Random Stories

To be an agent is to know which words to use.

To be an agent is optionally wearing shoes

To maintain an even gaze

Leave the strawberry on your plate

And be intriguing yet detached and unenthused.

*deep breaths*

COMMANDER ANTHONY RESTER/CARTER IS THE MOST CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED DILF OF DEATH NOTE!!!

According to the lgbtq wikia site, "Demiromantic is a romantic orientation on the aromantic spectrum defined as someone who does not experience romantic attraction until they have formed a deep emotional connection with someone. This connection may be sexual, platonic, or another form/combination of forms, depending on the demiromantic individual. Forming an emotional bond with someone does not mean that one is automatically attracted to said individual, as it just means there's now a possibility for one to feel attraction."

When I first heard this, I thought it was ridiculous. Doesn't evetybody have that? Then I did a little soul searching and looked back on my romantic experiences throughout the years. These are all based on personal experience, you may have different feelings than me. I just wanted to share because this is how I found out.

You don't understand celebrity crushes. "How can you have feelings for someone you don't even know?"

You don't like self insert x reader fanfics. You don't know the character personally and they know nothing about you, so why would this character have these deep feelings for you?

If you write fanfics, you always use or create OCs that pair well with the character in question. These OCs may be completely different from your personality, and they may not always be someone you aspire to be like, it's all about the character's chemistry over your chemistry.

You don't understand love at first sight. Your past relationships all formed after a year + of getting to know the person. When you first met your S/O (past or present) you didn't think much of them. Maybe they were just an interesting person or coworker, but as you got to know them, only then did you have those feelings.

There is a difference between romantic desire, romantic attraction, and personal chemistry. You find yourself wondering what a relationship would feel like, you read romantic stories and listen to music thinking "I want that," but you can't picture someone in your real life that you would want it with. Not because the person isn't awesome but because you just don't know them.

Additionally, chemistry and attraction go hand in hand. Once you've established chemistry, then you may feel that romantic bond.

Your idea of romance is emotional intimacy. Someone who trusts you with their deepest secrets and who you know inside and out.

When someone you don't know very well or perhaps is only a friend to you professes their feelings, you immediately want to abort the mission. You wonder how they even came to the conclusion that they like you because they don't know you.

You enjoy friends to lovers stories because they're relatable and romantic. You just don't understand why people dislike the friends to lovers trope or why they say the excuse of "I never saw them like that before" is unrealistic. You're more likely to fall in love with a friend than someone you met online, and that's what you want when you read a romance story.

While on the topic of online, the concept of online dating confuses you. You just wanna throw yourself into a situation with a stranger and hope you have chemistry? Romantic chemistry doesn't just happen after a single date for you.

I'd like to clarify that demiromantic does not mean you don't have sexual desires and attraction. While some demiromantics are also demisexual or even asexual, not all of them are. For me personally, I identify as a pandemic (thanks to @dorkbunny for that name), I don't mind one night stands or hookups because in my mind, sex and romance are completely seperate. Just because you experience sexual attraction (whether it's limited or you're hypersexual) does NOT disqualify you from being demiromantic, demisexual, asexual, or anything on the asexual spectrum.

If you have any other suggestions, write them in the comments and I'll add it to the list and credit you with the addition. This thing in particular was what kept me from identifying as demi for so long, so I wanted to make this part especially clear.

Content warning: Consensual penetrative sex scene, alcohol

“Vito,” I called. He looked up at me from his work. I rubbed his shoulder. “You look stressed honey.”

“It’s alright, doll. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Don’t say that, you know you don’t have to suffer alone.”

“It’s complicated, but I think we pissed off the wrong people.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” After a moment of silence, I said, “I’m scared Vito. We haven’t heard from anyone in a while.”

“I know doll. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“It’s not you, I’ve been worried about it for a while.”

“Let’s not worry about it tonight. What say we have a glass of wine, we put on the radio and dance, and we crawl beneath the covers later tonight.”

I raised the corner of my mouth in a half smile. “A glass of wine does sound good right about now.”

Vito got up and opened a bottle of wine. He turned on the radio, handed me a glass, and we drank and listened wordlessly. He cracked a few jokes, I laughed, I recounted memories, he chuckled, but conversation didn’t quite stick until our third glass of wine. A sweet love song came on and Vito stood and held his hands towards me. I finished off my glass and followed him to the middle of the floor. He swayed me for a bit, pressing kisses into my forehead and my temple. I pressed my cheek into his neck, my fingers grazing the end of his soft, charcoal hair. He smelled like smoke and cologne, his calloused hands rubbed soothing circles up my back. When he reached my neck, he turned my head to face his and he slowly brought his lips to mine. I could taste the wine against his tongue, feel his body heat wafting off him as his member poked into my pelvis. My fingers trailed down to the collar of his shirt and tore the buttons open to reveal his smooth, olive chest lightly peppered with black hair. I kissed his collarbone and his neck, suckling at his sweet flesh as I brought his shirt off his shoulders. He brought our lips together once more and we broke for him to slip my blouse over my head only to devour each other once fabric hit the ground. My heart surged into my chest and I gripped either sides of his face to pull him closer to me.

Vito took slow steps backwards until he was against the bed. He threw me onto the mattress and worked at his belt as I pulled my own pants and shoes off. Once he was completely naked, he knelt between my legs and slipped my stockings off, kissing my calves and ankles. He worked his way up my thighs, each press of his lips erupting my skin in warm tingles. He kissed my lower lips, running his tongue up my hood and around my clit, the very motion sent my back arching. His tongue worked wonders, sending shuttering orgasms through my body within minutes. His hands gripped my thighs as he worshipped my womanhood, I wanted nothing more than to return his favor. When he finished, he licked his lips of my cum and returned to me, kissing my neck and lips. I turned him onto his back and kissed down his chest, his stomach, and down to his growing member. My fingers tickled him before I slowly licked the tip. I assured to give as much care and love into his manhood as he did me, taking my time to taste him inside me again and again. He pulled out of my mouth and coaxed me up to him, then he flipped me over and towered over me. He pressed a breathtaking kiss into my lips, his fingers working my hair off my face and running against my cheek. He aligned with my opening and slowly penetrated me, I adjusted to his size then he slowly rocked his hips. His lips worked down my jaw, nibbling at my collarbone and leaving tiny hickies on my breasts. I lost my breath as a rolling orgasm took over my body. My nails dug into his back and up his neck and he pushed through, groaning through his own pleasure. My love for the man inside me grew immensely as he brought our lips together, gliding his tongue along the inside of my mouth. He worked his fingers between my legs and gently rubbed at my clit while his hard member worked at my g-spot. I pulled away from his lips only for him to attach to my neck, and I let out the loudest moan.

“Scream for me, doll.” He said.

Hi guys. So...where have I been? I know I promised to have the Vito Scaletta fic completed but a few things have gotten in my way. First and foremost, my mental health. You probably don’t know but suffer from a plethora of mental health issues. I’ve been in treatment for a little over a year now and I’m still learning how to live with it. The only things that brought me happiness were my fandoms, my writing, and my friends at school. Then Covid hit and schools went online. I recently came into a great job opportunity which will change a lot in my personal life, including how much I will be able to post here. I’m tutoring for a school district now and it’s a five day a week gig. Even so, I will always have time to write. However, I am beginning to reconsider what I post on here. 

I am a writer first and foremost, it makes me who I am. Naturally, my stories change and evolve as my skills and the fandoms I write for change. And as my writing as changed, so has the complexities of the stories I choose to write. At times I find myself outlining entire plots that take place outside of the universe they were originally from. And as such, these stories become less fanfiction and more fiction. I want to keep posting on here but I’m unsure what as many of my stories have very complex plots that diverge from the fandoms entirely. So much so that I feel I could make them into full fledged novels. I want to be a published author, that’s my ultimate dream. So I can’t share certain things for risk that either someone will steal my story or I spoil my story entirely before it’s even published. 

Albert Wesker x Reader 

AN: Thank you all for the wait. This chapter wasn’t initially going to kick off the fanfic, I was intending to make most of the events in here oneshots. But I thought, why not just make them all chapter one. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing! 

          I entered the gym holding an ice pack over my eye. Wesker was lifting weights with his shirt off, alone at the bench press. Cocky as ever, wanting to show off those muscles of his. I’ll admit, the first time I saw him in this state it caught my eye. Those rock hard abs of his still managed to make my nethers tingle, but you learn to keep your composure after seeing them for the hundredth time. I hung over the bench press with a sly smile plastered to my face. “Hey hot shot.”

          He stopped for a moment, turning his head to me. I could tell behind those sunglasses, his eyes went to the ice pack over my eye in an instant. This assumption was confirmed when he asked, “What happened?”

          “Huh? Oh, nothing.”

          He stood and carefully took the ice pack away from my eye. “Who gave you that black eye?”

          “It was nothing, Wesker. Just a sparring match gone wrong.”

          “Tell me who did this.”

          “Why do you care?”

          He scoffed. “I don’t, I was just wondering what face I should see in my mind when I imagined you getting your ass kicked.”

          I shoved his hand out of the way, replacing the ice pack over the bruised area. “For you information, just because Miller managed to land a good hit doesn’t mean I completely lost the match. He walked away with a nice fat lip of his own.”

          Wesker shook his head, no doubt rolling his eyes under those dark shades. He sat back down on the bench.

          “Y’know you look like a douche, right?”

          His head snapped to me. “Excuse me?”

          “You know I’m right. You’re wearing sunglasses in the gym when you’re all by yourself in here.”

          “Not entirely alone, you’re here nagging me too.”

          “Don’t be an ass.”

          “Am I wrong?”

          “Shut up, you’re getting off topic! Why don’t you just take ‘em off? It’s not like me knowing your eye color will make much of a difference.”

          “You’re a pest, you know that?”

          “It’s my job to pester you. Now are they coming off by choice or by force?”

          Wesker stood and towered over me. “You know damn well you would lose this fight.”

          “Oh please. You think I’d let you outsmart me? Besides, you wouldn’t lay a hand on a lady, would you?”

          “Are we talking about a lady or a bitch?”

          I reached up and took the frames of the sunglasses, no protest so far. I lifted them from his nose and brought them in front of me. Staring back at me were a pair of warm, brown eyes. When I looked closer, I realized they were actually dull orange. I couldn’t contain the short gasp that passed my lips. He took his glasses from my hands and replaced them, then wordlessly returned to his workout. Before I could respond, my watch started to beep. My que that my break had ended. I quickly changed into my work uniform—white button up blouse, black slacks, and my lab coat—and I departed for the labs. As I walked through the hall, I pinned my name badge to my lapel and tied my blonde hair into a bun at the crown of my head.

          After a long day in the labs, I retired to my quarters. We had a field mission later that evening, so with my later afternoon cleared, I decided to go on a quick hike around the complex. I traversed through the upper halls, passing Miller as I left. He scoffed as he laid eyes on my face. “Your eye looks fabulous,” he said.

          I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I know right, it’s a new fashion statement. I like to call it ‘Abuser’s Violet.’”

          “Whatever, I still call a rematch.”

          “You’re on, see you on the helipad.”

          I went down to the foyer and before I opened the door, I heard hushed voices echoing from upstairs.

          “Wesker.”

          “Miller, a word?”

          “Yes sir?”

          “So where’d Martinez get that black eye of hers?”

          “Huh? We sparred earlier today. What’s it to you?”

          “I want you to stay away from her.”

          “Wesker, we work together. You can’t be serious!”

          “I’m warning you, if I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

          “Y-Yes sir…my apologies sir.”

          Both sets of footsteps left the hall, so I exited the front steps of the mansion and jogged through the forest. The smell of fresh air brushing past my nose freed me from my chaotic life, at least for a moment. All that occupied the atmosphere were thumps from my feet against coarse dirt and the hum of songbirds. I had become accustomed to the rustling of leaves in the forest years ago when I first came here, so it was more comforting to me than anything. It let me know I wasn’t alone. Normally, the natural sounds allowed me to clear my head. But this time, my mind raced faster than the jackrabbits in the forestry. All I could think of was the voices I heard in the hall.

          “I want you to stay away from her. If I see you near her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

          Why would Wesker care about Miller and I sparring? He didn’t care about anyone but himself, right? Besides, he’s too invested in his work to notice anyone. Women and men alike showed subtle romantic interest, but he always turned them down. At most, he came across as an older brother to Birkin and I, albeit a distanced older brother in college with Birkin and I being kid siblings in middle school. He’s always been distant, why would he care now?

          Before I knew it, I was at the top of a massive hill overlooking a brilliant sunset over the forest. The sky above ran orange, and the tops of the trees were peppered gold. I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked down at the trees. I heard footsteps behind me and I whirled around, taking a fighting stance.

          Wesker shook his head. “At ease, soldier.”

          “You ass! Don’t sneak up on me like that! What are you doing here?”

          “I believe I am permitted to hike the outskirts of the complex, or was I unaware that you owned the forest.”

          “You following me or something?”

          “I was in the area, heard your giant footsteps and decided to see who was spying on me.”

          “Don’t get cheeky,” Before I could finish my statement, the alarm went off on my watch and I shut it off. “Whatever, we should get going if we want to make it to dinner.”

          “Lead the way then. Since you own the forest, you must know it be heart.”

          I rolled my eyes and walked ahead of him, but he quickly mathed my pace. “By the way, what was all that with Miller?”

          “I beg your pardon?”

          “You didn’t have to intimidate him over a little sparring match.”

          “Maybe he should learn not to hit a woman.”

          “Y’know what I think? I think you care about me more than you let on.”

          “What on earth gave you that impression?”

          “Why else would you care so much? You’d think the idea of me getting an ass kicking would be the happiest news in your eyes.”

          “Why are you pestering me all of the sudden?”

          “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.”

          “Listen Tweety Bird, when are you going to realize that I don’t care?”

          “I told you to stop calling me that!”

          “Then either grow a couple of inches or quit being a nuisance.”

          “That would be my other hobby, annoying you is just so much fun.”

          We made it back to the mansion and entered the dining hall. Birkin was already at our normal spot. As usual, he was poring over a file rather than paying much attention to his food.

          “Put your file away, William,” I said, “Your soup is getting cold.”

          “You’re not my mother, Victoria.”