#the only think i'm disappointed in is that they wimped out and made it longer in the back for the male model

[everchased]

the like. miniskirt action bg3 has going on with plate armor...... i don't hate it

[orv-random-quotes]

hey guys i made an analysis of the parallel between pinocchio-p's new song "With or Without Me" and yoo joonghyuk because i literally could not stop thinking about it after my first listen

it's under the cut as it's quite long

also warning for heavy spoilers. i kinda forgot what i mentioned but it probably might be good to avoid if you haven't read the whole novel and don't want to be spoiled.

“My timid self, hiding in an ant's nest

Quietly waits for the misfortune to pass” 

this is like how 0!yjh felt, standing in shock from the first scenario

“Gradually and gradually, my heart becomes dull

Gradually and gradually, my heart becomes dull”

as he continues to go through the regressions, witnessing his comrades’ deaths hundreds of times, he gets more apathetic. this is best shown by the 41st regression, where all he manages to say about lee jihye’s and lee hyunsung’s deaths are “In the future, sea battles will be a bit difficult,” and “I lost a good shield today,” respectively. it is not because he no longer cares for them that he says these hurtful words, but rather, that he cared for them too much. he cared for them too much and now his heart is hardened to protect him from attaching to his comrades repeatedly because he knows they’ll just end up dying.

“It feels like there's nothing I can do to change this world”

no matter how much he tries, he always ends up failing and coming short of ■■. he can’t do anything to change these outcomes, he can’t escape from the scenarios, he can’t stop the endless cycle of suffering.

“They point a gun at my head and test my allegiance”

“they” is anna croft. this sentence describes the 46th scenario in the 2nd regression, where anna croft betrayed yjh and forced him to become her servant, almost like pointing a gun at his head and forcing him to show his loyalty.

“Gradually and gradually, my heart rots

Gradually and gradually, my heart rots”

same like before. the horrible memories pile up one after the other into an insurmountable pile of trauma, the <Hellscape of Eternity>. the regression depression gets worse and worse.

“If I'm like this, nothing will ever come true

If I'm like this, I'll never be loved by you”

if he’s in this state, he’s never going to reach ■■. you can also connect this to KDJ and YJH’s discussion on the rooftop, where KDJ says this may be the last round you may be able to experience the conclusion “as a human being”.

“Shut up, I'm gonna live even if I'm a wimp

I'm invisible, but there's something I can do, right?”

even if he’s hopeless (or, like a sunfish, in kim dokja’s words), he feels determined to keep going. he must be the one to bear this eternity. him and him alone. he must be able to do something, right? 

“The world spins hatefully and indifferently

Even with or without me”

the world continues to go on, filled with destruction and sadness and ignorance, particularly instigated by the constellations. it will continue to go on like this, as it has never changed throughout any of his regressions. but, it still goes on without him. he finds out later on that his comrades continue to live on after he regresses. only he goes back, and the others move forward. everything will continue whether he exists in that worldline or not.

“I wish for a shooting star to the endless fighting

I wish for a ray of happiness to those who are kind”

i like to think that even though he is filled with only rage and disappointment for humans, constellations, and the whole world, that he still thinks this, at least in the early rounds.

“This merciless tragicomedy continues

Even with or without me - still”

“this merciless tragicomedy” references how this world is basically a show made by the constellations for their entertainment. their pain and tragedy and laughter only exists to fill the stomachs of constellations who don’t consider them worthy of respect.

"I have to do something - still

I have to do something - still"

he still feels the need to do something. fight the constellations, avenge his comrades, sacrifice everything he has to repay for his sins, reach ■■, he has to do something.

"The medal I dedicated my youth to win

Was taken away from me in two or three seconds

Crushed by the crowd of countless heroes"

the progress he makes in the several years each round can last can be immediately taken away by someone like Asmodeus, and the hundreds of constellations watching YJH would watch, captivated, egging the villain on as YJH watches his progress, his life being taken away yet again. he has to start all over.

"I eventually turn into a shellfish"

‘shellfish’ being sunfish. thank you kim dokja.

“Gradually and gradually, my heart dies

Gradually and gradually, my heart dies

It feels like it doesn't matter whether I'm here or not”

he begins to feel useless as the rounds continue to progress, as he knows the worlds will continue to exist without him. it doesn’t matter if he’s there, right? he’s only one person in the hundreds of thousands that experience the wrath of the scenarios.

“Dreams and frauds have the same face”

the people that could help him end up betraying him. anna croft, shin yoosoung, even his comrades when they become outer gods.

"Those who believe will all be saved

I, who can't believe, will not be saved?"

he’s still holding onto this belief that he can destroy the <Star Stream> and everything inside it by reaching ■■. but, he’s losing it as he continues to fail hundreds of times. he’s losing his belief in everything. in himself, in his comrades, in his ability to go on, in the constellations, in the stories…

“Who cares, my heart's still beating

How many years have I continued losing this fixed game?”

how many times has he regressed only to come back to the same subway? the same origin, the same story, the same scenarios, the same possibilities, just to go through it all again?

“After I've died, the sun will yet rise

Even with or without me - still

I have to do something - still

Even if I'm hated by myself”

even after he regresses, those worlds he left behind will continue to go on. he has to end the cycle, he has to reach ■■, even while battling the deeply rooted self-hatred and regression depression that lives inside him.

“Gradually and gradually, life begins to shine

Gradually and gradually, life begins to shine

Twinkling and twinkling, life begins to shine

“This nightmare will end”, I cling to a fantasy

Even if it's all meaningless”

and in the 1864th round, he meets someone. kim dokja. kim dokja who promises that he can take YJH to the end of the scenarios, kim dokja who tells him never to give up on this round, kim dokja who says this round will definitely be the last, kim dokja who makes him feel like life is worth living.

"Shut up, I'm gonna live even if I'm a wimp

I'm invisible, but there's something I can do, right?"

he has to continue to battle those memories, that voice in his head persuading him to give up. he has to tell himself to go on, to remind himself of kim dokja’s words at every step. he’s only one out of millions of people living through the hell of the scenarios, but he’s the only one who carries this <Hellscape of Eternity>, this curse, so he has to be able to do something.

"I wish for a shooting star to the endless fighting

I wish, please, for all the happiness to those who are kind

Even if I know it won't come true

Even if the world has already ended"

he knows this world is too cruel to offer kind people salvation. the world has ended, chaos has begun its terrifying reign, and morality and justice have no place here. those who are good will fall, and those who are evil will rise to the top. even the constellations of “absolute good” have committed atrocities beyond imagination. he knows the conflict and fighting will never stop, they can never stop because of the will of <Star Stream> which is constantly looking for a new story to devour. his views of good and evil are completely destroyed as he continues to live through hundreds of variations of hell, and the ones he thought were good turn out to be horrible, and vice versa. however, when he joins kimcom, he wants a happy ending for them. he does love them, so much more than he lets on, and he just wants them all to be happy, even though it can never happen.

[marslovesdaisies]

Look what you made me do || P.S.H

Summary: Lin Iseul is a formidable woman. Born in a family considered royalty in the underside of Seoul and armed with intellect to match her reputation, she moves in the city controlling her family's deals and breaking suspects. But when a man from her past comes back to haunt her, it sets off a chain of events far too grand for her to comprehend. People that she had buried with her dead friend's ashes have come to life, and at the center of it all is the most feared man in the city, Park Seonghwa. Can Iseul escape the dead's longing calls while keeping her own emotions at bay, or will she be sucked back in time to relive the worst moments of her life?

Minors atleast pretend to not interact.

WC: 3.2k

Pairing: mafia!Seonghwa x mafia!OC

Warnings: Death, murder, violence, gaslighting, manipulation, mafia themes, weapons, angst, gore, eventual smut. I'm new at this lmk if I have missed anything.

A/N: This looked fun, if you have any feedback I am willing to listen. Also I am horrible at naming this and my beta reader was no help either, so if you can come up with a name I will give you my firstborn.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 1

I looked in the mirror once again.

It would have been unnecessary, I knew I looked nonthreatening enough. I had picked my clothes accordingly. I cannot take any chances, I thought. I ticked off my mental list of all the things I needed. Normal jeans and shirt, check. Moisturized skin, check. Details about the location, check. Information about the wimp, check. Red lipstick, check. Running boots, check. Gun. I looked at the black beauty lying on the dresser. Stuffing it under my jacket, I moved to the windows. Check.

I looked at my watch. 9:03pm.

The outline of Gangnam was something that always calmed me down, the floor to ceiling glass panels far too extravagant to showcase a modest view. But this city hadn't disappointed, not in the least. The lights were kind enough to reach me this high up, a canvas of florescent stars. I inhaled it's magic as much as the separation allowed me to, aligning my thoughts.

This wasn't meant to happen like this. Two years ago, I had made sure that it wouldn't. My memory served me well enough to remember the events, but a few details were sketchy. Still I was convinced that I hadn't forgotten something important, so I would be fine. Hopefully.

The wimp I was supposed to meet tonight wasn't exactly strong, and he wasn't very important. Two years ago he may have been, but he was supposed to be dead by now. Yet here he was, alive if not well. Annoyed at the potential sloppy job I may have done on him, I breathed a huffed sigh and gave my bedroom a once over before proceeding to move out.

Too many thoughts. I was having too many thoughts about this. Calm down, Iseul. I breathed once. twice. One more time.

The soles of my shoes were soft and silent on my carpet. The hallway was the same as always, the wall a pale cream shade of my mother's choosing. I switched off the lights as I went, not looking back. There was no need to, I thought with a wince. Nobody would be there anyway.

The main foyer could not have come soon enough. I hated passing the closed bedroom door on the way. It had been closed for a while, a fact that did not forget to strike me everytime I saw it.

I enjoyed living without my parents around, who lived in a bigger house further away. Mother had hated my moving out as much as I had expected her to. It was unnecessary for her, but necessary for me. And I had liked this penthouse. Bought it with my own money. She had called me arrogant then, but had taken up on my offer to decorate it nonetheless. The house reeked of her choices, and I wondered if it could have been a little different only if the door to the bedroom had been open a little longer, just enough. I shook my head and moved on. Now wasn't the time. The time was never going to come.

I took the stairs to the parking, and decided to walk to the location. I would think on the way to the house the moron had suggested. I smiled to myself, noticing my insults for him changed every minute.

I threw the jacket I had brought down in the backseat of my car. Now, to the task at hand. I checked my phone for the directions. A dilapidated house, previously in possession of Lee Jong In. The man himself was supposed to be dead for two years, but the house had not been passed on. His son was dead, wife had disappeared.

I should have noticed this before, I cursed. Father would kill me if he found out, and so would Jun. The signs had been there for two years. Too perfect to be accidental. The man had disappeared and I was the last one seen with him. Had everything gone according to plan, he would be found at the bottom of the river. I had specifically asked for it.

Still a month later he had been pronounced dead, body not found. Not a lot of noise had been made, people had expected him to die sooner or later.

Then the signs had started. I had heard rumours about people looking for a woman. Lee Jong In was a vile man, moving around Seoul picking up shady girls and making shadier deals. A freelance negotiator, he called himself. Him being missing had sent a message in the underworld, of which my family was an integral part. Most had ruled it as a deal gone awry, especially with secrets being let out so easily those days. It was when a particular spy had been very active. Jong In made deals with gangs and suppliers on behalf of other people, with an almost exorbitant commission for himself. But since he managed to make the deals to turn out to be the most profitable for his clients, the money he pocketed didn't look like a lot in the long run. He worked for anyone who was willing to pay, and had no qualms. A lot of people wanted him to get dirt on others, and more often than not he was the suspect behind leaked information. It was all false, of course. But not many people knew that. Jong In was loyal to his employers, and proud of the fact. Which was why he hadn't taken the accusations very well.

When he had gone missing, with the last person spotted to be a woman, people had assumed it to be a crime for revenge or saving face. Then his son had turned up dead three days later. He had been tortured, face bruised and swollen. He was missing patches of hair, a few nails and with a lot of internal bleeding. It was later informed that he was alive when he had suffered. The boy had been seventeen then. I winced at the thought. He had been innocent.

I reached the house he had specified, taking a look around. I knew it was trap. But I also knew the man who had set it wanted me to know that it was. It wasn't obvious, but the opposite. Far too elaborate to have been set up by one single person supposed to be dead for two years, and too remote and particular to have small, unorganized groups working together like it looked out to be.

I could see a few men at the entrance. The house itself was more of a barn, the living area minimum and the space used to make a miniature room to make deals unspotted. Too over the top. I calculated my chances. If I waited for the men, I would be searched. Weapons weren't an issue, but I did not want their hands on me. I wasn't planning on jumping in through the window either.

The area was remote. I couldn't help but think I had underestimated the situation. Surely Lee Jong In wouldn't be that active under the radar? I almost turned back. Called Jun, got backup. It was getting later than I wanted it to, but curiosity got the better of my judgement. I had to see who was so determined to set a trap especially for me. Not a lot of people knew what I did.

Sighing, I approached the door. The door must have been open if there were guards, so I walked straight ahead. The guards looked at me approaching, bracing themselves to talk to me but I moved past them and pushed the door. It swung in, just as I had expected it to. The guards may have said something but I didn't hear, choosing to move inside.

The man in question was sitting on a chair at the far end. Of course, I thought. The room was like any other closed room would be, unused and decaying. I took a few steps, and then stopped.

Something was wrong here.

I subtly looked around. The guards outside were unimportant clearly, the man at the far end hadn't so much as moved, and it was silent otherwise. Too silent. Thinking about it, Lee Jong In had his head falling to a side, like he was asleep. There were rafters above. Someone must be hiding there, I thought. The actual one in charge, who had set this trap. His men as well.

I checked my watch again. 9:47pm.

It was dark enough for the power players to come out. Why not have some fun then?

"Nice trap you've set here." I commented, walking to the almost lifeless Lee Jong In. My voice echoed in the hall harshly.

A soft groan, and movement of his head. So he was alive.

Something moved behind. The trap was being set in motion, I guessed. I halted a few steps behind the man. They must have wanted to catch a fly with all the nets they have hidden inside, I mused. I was confident there would be guns on the rafters, currently aimed at my head. Or knee, depending on their intentions. Two could play a game though, and I was more than willing.

"Lee, tell me. How did the water taste from Han river?"

The chair moved around, and I could finally see the man resting on it. I knew what to expect, but it still made me smile coldly. His eyes opened, trying to adjust to the light around. He blinked a few times, and finally seemed to register me. I could pinpoint the exact moment he recognized who I was, and his face contorted in pure rage. "You witch. You fucking witch, you're dead. You understand? Fucking dead." His voice was raspy, broken and coarse. He had likely been screaming. I couldn't shake off the parallel it brought back, with the younger Lee boy two years ago.

The man was tied to the chair. That explained the lack of movement. He was an old man, in his fifties. He looked haggard, stubble growing and eyes swollen. He had been beaten up worse than I had initially thought. The bruises were almost gone, but the ghosts remained. He looked at me with pure venom.

Something was even more wrong.

Perhaps I had been too cocky. I hadn't told anyone I was coming here, and my car was back at my penthouse. This ruined any chances of an immediate escape. A slight cold settled in my stomach. This could very easily blow up in my face. I took a deep breath once more.

"You look better than you did two years ago, Lee."

His eyes shone with the memory I was referring to, and another bout of rage gripped him.

"You witch, you did this. Didn't feel satisfaction with almost killing me for a wench?" A cruel laugh, interrupted by wild coughing. He must have a dry throat. "You know Lee, I do want to know why you think I am magical enough to be labelled a witch." I looked at his state, and then his face. "But I did not do anything."

He tried to hold my gaze but doubled over again, coughing what looked like blood. "Don't act so saintly, I had done nothing to you. You sent those men after me, yo-you...." What was he on about? We clearly weren't on the same page. I remembered the men outside. They hadn't so much as blinked at me. One had tried to say something but I hadn't paid attention. An idea began to form in my head. Had they beaten him up thinking I had hired them for it? Slight discomfort was beginning to form in my gut. I didn't like this situation. This was a better trap than I had anticipated. There were people using my name around. I had to get out, but I was sure my chances getting slim.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket to call Jun. Keeping one eye on Lee who was blabbering something, I dialed the number of my cousin.

After the third time, I realized that he wouldn't be picking up. The reception wasn't that good either. I shot him an emergency message with the address to the location, and pocketed the device.

I looked at the insolent brat in front. "Why did you come back." He didn't respond. My patience was wearing thin, and I wanted to get out fast.

"Who asked you to come back??" He spit more blood, this time intentional. "You can hardly breathe, Lee but you still want to act difficult." I seethed. "Doesn't harm you much to listen to me now, so start fucking speaking."

He smiled at my tone. Probably knew I was getting unsure, the audacity. I grabbed his head, forcing his face to focus on mine. I was beginning to lose my temper. "ANSWER ME YOU DIMWIT!" He looked like he was planning to spit again, but I was quicker. A hard strike across his cheek. His head went flying left, the chair moving a little. I held his face once more. My fingers were visible imprinted on his right cheek, and my ring had carved a bloody slash across the bruises. He groaned without holding back. Must have hurt, I had hit him where the swelling was worse. I could see tears in his eyes. I pushed the small feeling of satisfaction at the back of my mind and asked him the same questions again, with no answer from him to my annoyance. He didn't look like he was fully processing his surroundings, probably was hallucinating. What was he so adamant for anyway?

I needed to change tactics to get him talking, and I needed them fast. I exhaled slowly and gave him a thorough look, assessing his situation.

"You know, your son was far more vocal than you are. Kid broke like a stick, whined all the way to his grave." He stiffened, as I had expected. I knew his son. His death had been a mess. "You don't know what you have done, bitch. I-" a splutter of blood. He must have a beaten lung or something. "-I " God I had missed this. Breaking people when they were down. They looked so helpless, they spewed empty threats, and loaded secrets. My blood was singing. This would have been interesting some other day, but I did not have much time.

I yanked his hair a little more harshly, deciding to press harder.

"Come on Lee, speak up now. The son was better, you know. Cried like a baby for his father to come save him and begged for his life. Told me everything I wanted to know, and I let him out."

"Don't speak about him, you witch." He managed to grit out in a threatening tone. Another illogical response, I noted. What was happening?

"Does it pain daddy so much? To know that his little boy screamed for him to save him while daddy was drunk, passed out on some whore's lap?"

He paled. I had hit the right spot.

"He did, you know. The boy who hated you so much wailed for you like a wounded dog. It was a pitiful sight," I shook my head, breathing in once, long and deep. I gripped his hair harder, and he whimpered. "his face was swollen and you could see how he looked nothing like your wife. She left you, didn't she?"

A hysterical sob gripped him. He was close. Close to breaking. His sanity was singing to me, begging to be shattered. One more blow. One more blow and he would be gone. "Come on now, Lee. Changie must expect better from his father. Tell me who brought you back," I went closer to his ear, a gentle whisper meant only for him. "tell me, and I'll tell you your son's last words."

And moments later when I finally heard a sound, it wasn't Lee Jong In who was openly weeping but a voice from behind me, one I had heard before. Many times, as I had spied on his men, broken them for information, broken them for fun. A terrible man working for an even more terrifying man. My blood ran cold as his voice echoed,

"I did."

A few seconds went in silence, before I felt a cold object at my head.

My body moved on its own, fight or flight instincts kicking in. I could feel everything in slow motion, a gun slowly being pressed to my skull as I tried to whirl and twist away from the barrel.

"Don't move." This was a different voice.

I didn't pay attention, trying to get myself in a better position when a leg kicked me hard enough to lose balance and fall. Two hands grabbed mine quickly, and struggling wasn't of much use.

I could still sense eyes on me from afar. Someone else was watching.

Lee was still sobbing, saying something, pointing at me. People were getting him out of the binds, dragging him to some dark corner. He wasn't my problem now, I had a bigger mess. I knew it had been a trap, but I hadn't expected these people to be involved. Fuck, only my phone was traceable. Once switched off, it would mean nothing.

Too many thoughts again. I had too many thoughts to think clearly.

Someone gripped my hands and yanked me up, not very gently. I collided with his chest, and expensive cologne wafted into my nostrils. "Now now, darling Iseul. Lets not get roughed up now. There isn't much you can do anyway." I tried to tug at his hands to loosen his grip, but he only held them tighter. I stilled a little, gathered my breath. Before he could open his mouth again, I intertwined my left leg with his right and yanked hard. He fell, not expecting the move but dragged me down with him.

A loud thud could be heard, but he rolled on top quickly. I opened my eyes to be face to face with Bang Jae Min, a high ranking member of Ateez. "Why are you here." I managed to grit out. A gentle laugh from his side. "Come on, Iseul. Stop struggling. I am sure Seonghwa would like to pay his regards to you in person."

I stilled. This was the worst case scenario. If Park Seonghwa was the one behind all of this, I was in a huge, huge mess. I already regretted coming here. I had been too confident. If Jaemin was here, it could only mean trouble. Jaemin whispered in the ears of Ateez's eight constantly. His influence was significant. And he represented the will of Park Seonghwa. A powerful, powerful man. Cold dread and horrible sweat was the last thing I felt as a needle pricked my neck and I collapsed in Jaemin's hold.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

A/N: I really don't know what I was thinking doing this, but if you read this and would like to continue, make sure you tell me about it. I'll probably add warnings later, I am so new to this I still need to figure out half the stuff myself. Happy reading!

[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚��

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[comelylust]

Workmates

That's right I deliver what I promise, Request through my discord, Anon asked for some Miguel with plot so I made a plot attempt haha. if you find spelling or grammatical errors sorry I do this from a tablet 👀read the warnings 👀.  

Warnings: Smut content, +18, street fights, mentions of alcoholic beverages.

 "Ugh I really can't stand it" You mention this to your boss with an irritation in your voice, pacing back and forth with both hands on your head "how the hell are you two friends?! it's so... agh"  

Seeing how frustrated you were all your boss did was scoff at it, he continues to clean the glasses and arrange them on the shelves in the back, he looked like he really didn't care that two of his workers don't get along as well as he would like.  

"You're just stressed, go take a break" Your boss laughed, gesturing towards the employee door where you already knew who was there, Miguel, chances are he was listening to everything, instead instead of embarrassing you your anger continued to rise.

"He's a nice guy, you're just not used to his temperament."  

He's right, you still don't know him well enough just a couple of months ago you moved to Spain for personal reasons, but let's say things were getting difficult and you decided to venture to a new destination in search of opportunities, at first you didn't know where you were going, you were coming and going without a previously planned route, this didn't bother you at all you felt better about yourself above all you felt free for the first time in your life.  

On one of your countless trips you heard a group of strangers talking about a certain wrestling tournament which caught your interest. You decided to join that event after they finished their talk, grabbed your stuff and headed to a new country.  

When you finally arrived in Spain the first thing you did was to look for a temporary job, difficult at first you didn't have the necessary documentation to back up your identity, yeah shit, it wasn't the best idea to leave with nothing but your passport.

You continued your search now in the slums of that country, hoping that someone would offer you help, instead the only thing they offered you was endless fights showing the wimps not to mess with you, earning you a little respect from the locals.  

"Strange" You thought "People usually loathe people like me".

It didn't take you long to figure out the reason why the inhabitants were so used to subjects of your ilk. Miguel Caballero Rojo, a subject without a shred of compassion when it came to street fights, was brutal and violent making his opponents regret it on the spot.

Going to where he always made his appearances you found on the way an old cantina: on the outside it was crumbling, but the old letters of the place were still visible. Entering with your best hard face you asked about that mysterious man, without receiving a clear answer, again you let out a disappointed sigh and a pout formed on your lips.

"Hey, don't be so sad" A middle aged man catches your attention offering you a drink which you cheerfully accept "You're not from here are you, cutie?" Your eyes widen like saucers when he found out you're just an outsider, without taking the drink away from your lips you nodded.  

"Well, I need a bartender so why don't you stay for a while while you wait for him" He offers the old rag along with the apron, you were in doubt, but you really needed this job, the opportunity to work and hit on a guy sounded exquisite without hesitating a second longer you made your decision.  

"Okay I accept, just for a while".  

"I'm Daniel by the way" The old man who is now your boss mentions it.

You worked in that bar for the next few weeks, you didn't do much, just make drinks and take out old creeps trying to be smart. Now the main issue, if you met Miguel, yes, he really looked violent, and yes he had hated you.

When he first walked into the bar he was fuming, his nostrils flared, his muscles tensed and the fingers on his hands were crusted with dried blood, in short he's pissed, to add more to the mix you lunged at him with incredible speed that even Miguel himself was taken by surprise.

"What the fuck" He exclaims as his head face down is resting on the dirty floor, you crossed his wrists and paralyzed him with a knee on his back "Get the fuck down, what's wrong with you".  

"It's nothing personal just that I liked the idea of defeating the best fighter in this neighborhood" You licked your lips forming a fuzzy smile of joy. Miguel tries to move, but you strengthen your grip, raising your hand now in the shape of a fist ready to punch him in the Spaniard's face, until someone interrupts you.

 🌒🌕🌘

 "Sorry Daniel" You fiddle with your fingers as the pout returns to your face along with a blush forming on your cheeks. "B-but you already knew what my plan was!"

"Plan?! What's going on Daniel, are you conspiring with this Chiquilla?" Miguel points at both of you accusingly, scratching the back of his neck furiously.

"Eeh, who are you calling a chiquilla, brat?"

"The only person who is behaving like a brat is you" The two begin a verbal sparring match with overly childish insults. Daniel for his part lets out a loud sigh catching both of their attention.

"You both are behaving like brats, Now Miguel she is the new Bartender she will work here for a while be nice" The last sentence was thrown remarking that she will behave "Same goes for you, Be nice he is your co-worker"

"Coworkers!? That if ever!" Both mention at the same time throwing each other murderous looks.

And here we are back where we left off at the beginning. Working with Miguel was annoying, he is always drunk, when he is lucid he gets in a bad mood and even starts fights for stupid reasons, the problem is when you have to interfere when things get too intense, this didn't bother you, you were annoyed by the idea of saving his ass.

Instead of thanking you he starts a useless fight questioning why you helped him and all the crap you decided for your and Daniel's mental health more than anything else for your boss it's better to ignore him.

But what happened?  

You were not a sports fan, much less a soccer fan, however since you arrived to this place the only thing that the bar TV broadcasts was soccer, getting used to it, you noticed that Miguel on special occasions wears a jersey of his favorite team, your lips curved into a cheshire smile at the prank you were going to do, your plan is only to support the opposing team for no apparent reason, this would annoy Miguel as a "revenge" for what he had put you through.

Tonight you put your new plan into practice, you borrowed a t-shirt from the opposing team that is playing tonight, you put it on by buttoning every button, oddly enough this shirt highlights your beautiful figure, accentuating your breasts and molding to your abdomen/torso, you hope no one notices this, but who the fuck cares, you look great.  

The bar is more crowded than it normally is, you complained about the smell it smelled too much like Cologne, alcohol and sweat hopefully your brain will adapt to it. You headed to your work station serving the drinks to their respective buyers. Until you saw him come in of course with his charming outfit, fuck, you have to admit the man is hot, his manly appearance and his well toned and thick muscles soaked with a light layer of sweat would make anyone drool, unfortunately this was his only virtue.

He gave you a small smile and of course foolishly you returned it, you shook your head forcibly bringing yourself back to reality and remembering the reason why you had decided to do this in the first place.  

"Are you kidding me?" he approaches you intimidating as always, the difference is this time his voice framed mockery as if he knew what you were trying to do.

"What are you talking about, I'm just working" you bite your inner cheek avoiding emitting a laugh, You poured him a pitcher of beer waiting for him to forget the topic of conversation.  

"Yeah right, I know what you're planning, cutie" He takes a long swig of the drink wiping the rest of it off with his arm "And it's not going to work" He winks at you you roll your eyes so much you're able to see your brain, it really is unbearable.

As the night continues, Miguel continues to make fun of you and how your "shitty" team is losing, the strange thing is that you ended up joining him, drinking the whole keg of beer answering his comments with sarcastic remarks.  

You were wrong to think that his only quality is being a handsome man when you noticed that his resistance to alcohol is quite high happened exactly with you, your resistance to alcohol was the best, however, the drinks were doing in you a kind of aphrodisiac turning you hotter as you kept talking to Miguel.

"How about...if we go to the back" your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked you play again with your fingers waiting for an answer, instead he didn't give you one he just grabbed your bicep with his hand and dragged you to the employee only room.  

Before partially closing the door, his free hand wrapped around your jaw pulling you closer to him in a hot kiss, intertwining their tongues licking every part he could, he pushed you into the room closing the door behind you. He connected his lips this time on your neck leaving you with purple and bite marks.

 He held your wrists guiding you to the lounge chair obediently sitting there, still kissing you enjoying your taste despite the bad beer you had chosen.  

"Apparently you're not a rough girl anymore" Separating slightly so he could speak.  

"H-hush don't ruin the moment" You turned into a red, stuttering mess, all Miguel did is smile at you and get up from the seat, your mind raced hoping he wouldn't leave.

"On your knees" His hoarser than normal voice made you shudder and let out a low moan, he had never been so dominant and you would be lying if you didn't say you didn't like it. You quickly went down on your knees looking up at him with eyes clouded in lust.

"Fuck" Solo said unbuttoning his pants, you helped by pulling them down along with his boxers "I'm going to punish you for being a spoiled brat."

 You finally released his cock from its confines, you gasped at the sight previously you could picture it, but your mind didn't do it justice, it's big with veins that framed its outline the red tip was already dripping pre-semen, you licked your lips and included its head between your lips, giving kitten licks.

 "Stop teasing" He growled, you opened your mouth wider with your tongue hanging out, shoving his cock in your mouth touching your throat, you looked up as you gagged which made him let out a guttural gasp.

You pulled back pulling his cock partially out before thrusting harder into your throat, you moan and the vibrations you throw are so delicious he can't take it. Getting rid of his remaining clothes he continued to pound your throat rapidly as he watched your face fill with tears and you try to breathe through your nose so you don't choke.  

"Will you stop teasing?" your eyebrows flex in anger, but this action doesn't last that long, still gagging on his cock you nod energetically. "Good girl."

Thick, hot ropes sprouted from his cock covering your mouth, trying to swallow as much as possible. Inhaling and exhaling heavily catching your breath, you struggled to stand up before Miguel lifted you up placing you face down on the couch climbing behind you, your instinct was to raise your ass and spreading your legs apart, giving him a perfect view of your already slippery pussy.

 Miguel looked at you with carnal hunger re licking his lips as he looked at your innocent form, his palm slapping against your ass in a thud, you squealed as you felt another series of spanks follow leaving your buttocks red.  

 "Remember it's your punishment pretty girl."  

He rubs his fingers over your wet folds and plunges a finger inside you, you yelp at the sudden action pulling away, Miguel firmly holds your hips so as not to go any further and continues to plunge his fingers stretching your tight walls.  

"Easy I'm getting you ready" Miguel works on your sex pulling his fingers in and out "She's too tight".  

Your legs trembled with excitement and your moans echoed in the room loudly, before you could come he pulled away from you collecting your essence smearing it on his long shaft lubricating it.  

The tip of his cock rubbed between your folds teasing your entrance, you moaned needy moving close to him.

"Don't tease" you pout and he teases you, he pushes his member slowly into your pussy. The sensation of your walls squeezing his cock made him throw his head back as you rolled your eyes at the bliss of being filled.  

Miguel pulled your hair back into a ponytail using it as leverage to go faster and deeper, the lewd noises you make are music to his ears instigating him to move.

You could feel every part of his thick cock and how it exquisitely hits that rubbery spot inside you, through your mouth overflowing saliva and your eyes still rolling back. Your walls tremble giving hints of your come.

"Cum on my cock pretty girl" his voice a few octaves lower brings you to the edge, a lewd moan escapes your sweet lips and he quickens his pace chanting your name between curses, his load shoots inside your sex painting them white.

He pulls out of you and you both catch your breath. When you realize what has just happened your face turns red and you try to hide it between the cushions of the couch. Miguel notices this and pats your head.

 "So..." You say shyly.

"Then I'll ask you out, mi amor."  

"W-what?!"  

"Ha, I really love your temper."  

"Idiota" this wasn't the plan nor much less the expected result but you're happy.

I must improve on the fast way it ended haha I hope you liked it.