#I'm pretty sure I got some details wrong | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ronearoundblindly · 7 months ago

Note

Some Steve for you to enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

Gurl, this f***ed me up! I wanted to try to make it a snippet of Item 107 or The Cinder King, but the muses were just like "you know what you need? emotional damage." So now here we have my first semi-legit period piece (which has zero useful era detail eh) and truly is just the carrier for skinny!Steve love. Hint: It's thirsty, smutty love with hardly any plot ANGST.

Hello and welcome to Lexi's most self-indulgent fic ever. It's got everything: crippling insecurities about my real-life stuff, horniness unmatched even if there were sex pollen shot directly into their faces, and everyone is touch-starved. \o/ Enjoy! WC probably close to 3k but idk because I'm too afraid to look back at it. *slams post button*

Turned away again, Steve "4F" Rogers steps out of the recruitment center to see you standing there, staring up at the posters promising glory.

People hustle around you, several even knocking into you, but you remain transfixed, invisible. You're clutching your purse like a lifeline.

Down one step, worn-through shoes barely hiding every seam in the cobblestone, Steve has to get closer because that's the direction of home and a lonely, empty apartment he can hardly afford. He has to pass by. He has to, but then he sees the amber light reflect on trails of tears down your cheeks.

He has to stop.

"Miss?" Steve clears his throat, his own arm smacked by a rowdy man who then swats at your ass just as Steve tries to get your attention again.

You jolt and turn to him in surprise, hand flying up to cover a sob, sweeping to wipe the evidence of emotion from your face.

Fast--faster than Steve really processes--he's shouting for the guy to apologize before the guy makes to advance, Steve presses himself between you and the asshole still laughing at disrespecting you, and then he--Steve--is getting shoved into the alley with you still at his back.

It's dusk. The alley is nearly black. Steve can hear you crying but he's slipped on the stones wet from an afternoon rain. He scrambles to right himself.

Amidst the cries, he hears grunts of anger and resistance, terror creeping into his chest as Steve thinks you're being assaulted.

"Piece of shit," you bite out. The silhouette of you hurling your bag at the man's face repeatedly is clear from where Steve crouches, backlit as you are by the movie theater marquee.

Then the guy is down on the ground, too, being stomped on by your two-inch heel. "Piece of fucking shit."

"Woah," Steve jumps forward to hold you back. "Woah, language, ma'am. Let's go. Just leave him."

He has a weak arm around your waist, but you kick at the man one more time for good measure, hissing "liar" before turning to follow.

Your hand in his, Steve hurries through the streets, picking the ones he knows are busier but maneuverable to make sure you're not being pursued. Each time he looks back, he sees your sinking face, more tears, more exhaustion, and he makes a flash decision.

He doesn't stop until he locks the door of his apartment behind you both, and you break down on the bare wood floor.

"You hurt? Did he hurt you?" Steve's boney knees land a few inches from yours and he leans over, his long fingers brushing over your pinned hair and stiff curls that dislodged in the commotion. "You're alright. You're safe here."

Where your legs crumple underneath you, your slip lays over your thigh, uncovered by the skirt pooling on the other side of your hip. He can see the outline of a garter strap and the top of your stocking beneath the silky material. Steve's always loved pretty, delicate things. He also loves the faint bulge of flesh around the restraints.

There's meat on your bones, something to hold onto, and he shakes his head, chastising himself for noticing all the wrong things about the crying woman in his home. His lonely, empty home.

Steve attempts to think of anything other than your body.

"Do you know him? What'd you call him a liar for?"

You sigh in defeat, hands flopping into your lap, and confess that it wasn't about him so much as a man not here anymore. Gone. To war. You tell Steve a rambling tale of excuses and snide comments, of a parting that left you wondering why that man--any man--bothered to be with you in the first place, of a surety that you weren't ever wanted.

"I thought he loved me but he lied."

Steve sits cross-legged in front of you now, enthralled and utterly confused. Why would anyone...?

"That's the worst part," you exclaim, voice cracking. "I don't know. I'll never know." Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "I heard today that he died. Don't know where. Don't know when. And I hate that I still care."

"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you."

All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches.

He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so...

"You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."

The words are loaded heavier than tanks and pack the punch of a bomb. He can tell you don't truly hear him by the way you shrink and shake your head out of his hold.

"Don't do that," he pleads. "Please don't hide from me."

"You don't know me."

"No, but I--"

"You don't even know my name!"

He sits back and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you, and I think you're beautiful."

"That's stupid," you lash out, bitterly spitting the half-hearted, heart-breaking words. "You must be an idiot, Steve."

It's not the first time he's heard it, but it is the first time he's not mad at hearing it. He believed those things, too, long ago, before his mom convinced him to see the possibilities in one's struggles. If you perceive it as an obstacle, it is an obstacle. Perceive it as an opportunity instead and use it. Those aren't her exact words, but Sarah Rogers has so many different ways of teaching the same fundamental lessons that Steve can't remember the phrases anymore.

He can remember the feeling. He remembers seeing both obstacles and opportunities.

"Is it stupid to want to touch you?" he whispers. "Because I would love to touch you."

The question is purposefully leading since he knows from your story that's exactly what you long for. It'll be more impactful if he shows you he longs for that too.

Slowly--so slowly--his hand comes up to your cheek again, his fingers tucking behind your neck.

"I don't want your pity." There's still bitterness but no power behind it. You gently shift closer and meet him halfway.

He's kissed girls before, he's fooled around, and he has, in fact, slept with one girl. They went all the way--twice--which means Steve knows what it is to be pitied intimately. He knows what it's like to want something so badly you don't care what the motivation is.

You deserve to know his motives.

"I don't pity you." His focus falls to your quivering lip. "I want to make you happy." He's close. He's so close his breath rolls warm over your face. "I want to make you smile."

A soft whimper leaves you just as his mouth arrives.

"I want you," he says into the kiss.

Instead of fighting, you grab at his jacket, pulling him until you're both falling into the stand lamp. You taste of salt and something sweet he can't put his finger on. Steve resolves to put that on the list of things to find out about you.

He keeps kissing you as you both fall, the lamp now wedged at an angle by the side table. Despite the tangle of tongues, Steve keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't quite have enough answers.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

Hesitant as he pulls away, gripping worn leather like your purse in the street, your eyes dart between his. You're a dream beneath him, but that sounds too selfish to voice.

"May I..." Steve is already panting "...get you off the floor? More comfortable?"

Maybe you haven't been able to say the words, but Steve doesn't need more convincing to know you want him.

He could tell from the way you pawed at him. He could tell from the multiple times you crashed him into the walls along the hall to makeout more. He could tell from the way you melted like hot butter at his every returned touch, but finally, you two made it to his bed.

He'd be embarrassed by the lumpy old thing if there weren't a curvy, luscious dame standing with wide legs at the foot of it, letting his tie slip through your hands as he sits stunned.

Steve swallows thickly.

"Let me see you." It comes out as more of an order than the hopeful question he intended, but when he sees the command shiver through you, he feels six-foot-six and powerful as all hell.

You two share the burden of unbuttoning all of your layers, spinning you a few times to release front and back and side to side. His hands spread and roam to relish each garment, each moment, until you're top half is naked.

He stares, fierce blue irises muted by the dim light on his bedside table, 'beautiful' on his lips every second you spend with your finger yanking the knot of his tie and sliding off the bond. When you lean to pop his shirt buttons, your breasts hang in his face.

Steve stops you by your wrists, peaking up at you through his long lashes as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He keeps thinking it--beautiful--while his tongue sweeps flat across pebbling flesh. Each subsequent swirl has you melting again, pressing more of you to his face, dragging nails up his chest, sighing long and deep. When he switches to the other side, your fingers bury in his hair. He takes his time to worship you, tracing his own fingertips around the hem of your slip and garters.

He doesn't get impatient, if anything Steve feels greedy for wanting more, for praying this lasts forever, for needing all you're willing to give.

His teeth graze your skin in wanton lust, and you flinch in surprise, knocking you off-balance.

You fall to your knees on the mattress, straddling Steve's slender body beneath your hot core.

"Sorry," you mutter, wriggling to stand, forcing Steve to wrap his arms around you and halt your retreat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can sit on me morning, noon, and night," he rasps. "I won't complain. I'll thank you, beautiful."

He groans pathetically when you relax, the grind of your ass making his slacks pinch tighter and tighter. Steve lets his head fall back on the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. The army might not want him, the world outside may forget he ever existed, but you see. He could get addicted to this feeling. He might get lonely without it.

Steve isn't strong enough to keep hold of you, but your weight never leaves, his erection still slotted between your cheeks. His mouth drops wide when your hips roll. Steve whines when you rise up enough to resume unbuttoning him. His lungs and heart go into overdrive, but even so, Steve doesn't want you doing all the work.

He flips you--using the sum total of his strength--and shuffles backward to stand, ripping the tails of his shirt from beneath his belt and shucking off his trousers. That part he could have been more patient for, but Steve smirks and brushes away the hair falling in his eyes, chest heaving from exertion.

He's pleased to see you watching him, ogling his body without judgment. You look like you want to eat him alive, and he is perfectly fine with that.

His palm lands on your knee to sneak higher beneath your slip, nimble fingers popping the clasps along your stockings and hooking through the band of your underwear. You lifting for him is all the permission he needs. Steve leaves your slip, garter belt, and stockings in place, and in a cheeky twist, he lets your underwear hang off one of your ankles, kissing your inner thigh, pushing your knees wider for him to fit.

He throbs in his boxers at the sight of your sex.

Nerves roil in his belly at the idea he is solely responsible for your pleasure. As he glances up to you, propped up on your elbows with a fearful and expectant gaze, he sees a poster promising honor and glory, a service to be proud of, and for the first time, he has doubts.

You see it in his eyes.

"Steve?"

He wants to participate and show that he's worthy of you.

This isn't about him though, and Steve Rogers is nothing if not dedicated anyone other than himself.

"Right here." He snaps back to reality, laying his hand to your thatch of hair and gently teasing his thumb along your folds. "I'm right here, beautiful."

It's an honor to touch you. He's proud of the moan elicited because he strokes over your clit rhythmically. The glory of watching you writhe is all his.

Steve's breath stays rapid as yours picks up. You're fisting the sheets, slick pooling beneath the pad of his thumb, helping him pick up speed. He dips into you, tests the breach while pushing his boxers down, and crawls over the edge of the bed. Like magnets, you guide each other higher till the pillows cradle you.

You're a broken record, repeating a desperate loop.

"Steve," you whimper.

"Won't ever lie to you." He captures your lips again. "Want you so badly. I'll want you all the time."

Steve doesn't understand why you won't talk to him, so he slows, eyes questioning and brow furrowed. You have to see. The light is right there.

Bottom lip trapped, you still say nothing, but your arms raise to his smooth face and plead in the silence.

He wants the same thing. He wants to feel. Not just the sting of rejection. Not just the slippery, rough stones through his shoes. Not just the empty ache inside. He wants to feel like someone cares whether he lives or dies.

You care even when you don't want to, but Steve can earn you, your care, your smile and your tears. He'll get up and come home to you every time. He needs you to come home to.

Otherwise, this is a lonely, empty apartment. Otherwise, he is a lonely, empty man.

Your hands bring him close, lips pausing just before contact while Steve sinks two fingers into you.

You gasp. His fingers curl. His thumb goes back to work. You kiss him with what little breath you can hold between muted cries until Steve notices your roving hands tug at his waist.

He wants the same thing.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve drapes your thighs over his, his slick fingers spreading you. He's mesmerized watching his cock disappear inch by inch, and the caress of your walls shuts down all other brain function. All he can do is slide against you, bent into your soft body, your breasts padding his jerky thrusts, the base of him perfectly laving the hood of your clit in the growing mess.

You're wet, and he's driven wild by the need to make you come. He tries to sit up again, to play with you properly, but he's stopped by the weight of your legs crossed behind his ass, the strength of your thighs anchoring him in place.

Steve takes huge, deep breaths through his nose because he won't last concentrating on how your body bounces and ripples, plush beneath his boney form.

You get wetter, looser in a welcoming way that spurs him to drive himself home faster. He sucks in air, though it's futile once his heavy balls start to seize.

Suddenly, you shout, stretching to push yourself completely flush with his pelvis, and he has to pull out, keeping aligned with the cut of you as aftershocks make you mindlessly hump him. Steve's cum shoots all over his belly and your chest, some drops dampening what clothes he didn't discard, stains of joy replacing stains of sadness.

His chest might explode. He's gasping, taxed beyond his naughtiest dreams, head lolling toward the ceiling with his throat high.

He feels your legs fall away, and Steve hopes for an instant that you embrace him even though he might suffocate in the process.

The envelopment never comes. The world is fuzzy and too warm beyond him.

He hears the sink in his bathroom turn on just as he lands palms-down on sweaty sheets. He tries every trick he knows to calm down. The water still runs after all the time it takes for him to recover and stand. The closer he gets to the doorway, the clearer the sound really is.

Sobbing.

"Beautiful? What's wrong? Did I--"

The faucet squeaks off, and you barrel out, nearly running him over, your arms covering your chest and your disheveled hair hiding your face.

"What are you doing? Are you cold?" Steve tries.

"I'm disgusting," you hiss in a mad dash for the pile of clothes on the floor.

He trips over his feet to stop you, corralling you as best he can, but you're quick. You certainly have fight in you. Steve only want to show you you do not have to fight him.

"Come back to bed," he commands hopefully, grabbing your wrist as you scoop up your wrinkled dress. "I should clean up, but please, please, come back to bed."

There is something broken and fearful in the way you finally meet his eye. He's torn apart, shredded down to nothing in a single look. That's not how a feral animal sees the world; that's how an animal, abused and betrayed, locks the world out.

Your protection is what you really took off for him. Your thick armor is what Steve got past.

"I didn't lie." He lets go of you and steps back as calm as his rasping breaths can manage. "I want you. I want you to stay." He wonders whether he ought to cover himself, too, because perhaps total vulnerability makes you more nervous.

So he presents himself as an opportunity, not an obstacle.

Steve finds his boxers a foot away and says one more time, "I hope you stay."

Unmoving, your eyes follow his walk to the bathroom, and in the split second he's looking down to turn the tap, you're gone.

Disappointment floods his system, but like all the other stamped failures in his record, Steve goes through the motions of caring for a body that thwarts his desire to live at every turn. In fact, it tries to die so often, he's always surprised to find himself here, staring at this mirror again, wondering why he gets back up.

He's also surprised to find you here, in the bed with the sheet pulled up to your chin, nodding to the side table where you've placed a cup of water.

The tiniest of genuine smiles curves your lips.

Steve's home is neither lonely nor empty anymore. He could cry.

A/N: this got so incredibly out of hand... I'm so sorry. But also, thank you for reading!

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #skinny!Steve #1940s!Steve #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader smut #pre serum steve

263 notes · View notes

in3rci4 · 11 months ago

Note

maybe you could do TBP boys x GN reader who is always serious and calm and doesn't have the habit of smiling, smiling for the first time

Thank you for the request and for giving an idea too 😊🥹 ! I appreciate it , hope it's not too bad ❤️‍🩹

" And then they smiled , that's what i'm after . A smile on their eyes , the sound of their laugher"

The title comes from a small piece of the lyrics of the song " Drift away" from Steven Universe

Prompt : The Black Phone boys reaction at the reader who's always serious and calm , smile and laugh for the first time

Characters included: Vance Hopper , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter , Robin Arellano , Griffin Stagg , Finney Blake

WARNINGS !! : Character x reader content , no use of y/n , idk what else to say , Gn ! Reader , Reader might have some backstory I guess ¿? maybe a mix of Fluff and Angst ¿? Some gonna be shorter than others , spelling mistakes

Vance Hopper

You two knew each other for some time now , you were home schooled not so long ago so you didn't had an idea of Pin Ball Vance Hopper reputation . The moment the teacher assigned the both of you for a project , you weren't walking on eggshells like everybody else did with him while talking , you didn't expect anything from him , for you , Vance was just ... Vance . That's the exact reason why you befriend him in no time , your non judgmental personality , and you were completely unaware he wasn't like this with anyone , anyone but you . Even if your words were nice and honest he noticed how cautious you were with your movements and expressions , he thought it was weird at first , your voice didn't matched with the look in your face in his opinion , but Vance got used to it pretty quick , he's not a smiley guy either , he was ... A little more grumpy person than you . Just like usual , in the weekend you would stay by his side watching him play his Pin Ball game , and also making sure he didn't beat anyone if anything went wrong with it , but those are details . You got hungry and decided to buy Mrs Ellen a small snack bag , when you went back to the side of the machine ( not too close to possibly bump it though ) he started to get close to beating his high score . You gasped in excitement and then he heard the sound of the machine saving his new record on the top of it . Vance let go of the arcade game machine and started to shake you excited as well by your arms , you doing the exact same thing with the snack bag still in your hands

" You did it Vance , you finally beat your high score !"

You said with a smile while laughing of enjoyment

" See !? Told ya , told ya I would fucking beat that shit , didn't I !? "

You kept laughing and smiling from the happiness of had seen it happening after so long , so many failed tries were worth for this day to happen . Vance in the other hand stopped moving your body to stare at you instead .

You were smiling , smiling in a genuine , happy and .... He would say in a beautiful way too . Is this how you look like when you're happy ? The real you ?

Maybe he should try to get you to smile more often .

Confused about the sudden change of attitude you asked him with a small giggle

" Vance , are you ok ? "

Yes , he would be ok , as long as you are with him for a little longer like this .

Bruce Yamada

He was a popular and loved guy , he didn't had trouble hanging with almost everybody in school, and Bruce didn't have to do any effort in finding someone to date either . And yet , a particular classmate of his , you , was the one that had all his attention . A person that minded their own business and never had smile in front of anybody before , and still looks like a magazine model .

Bruce wanted to get close to you for years , but he never had the opportunity , ironically , he never had the courage to go straight at you and tell how good looking you are , you look so serious that you kinda scared him , but not enough to stop liking you .

The biology teacher didn't had a clue how happy he made Bruce the day he paired you and him in a project for the science , finally he could have his opportunity , his chance with you . Dying of anxiety inside like his first baseball game , he asked you

" Hey , I know we never talked before and stuff , but would you like to stop at my house tomorrow to speed up things ? For the project , you know ? Maybe we could go out somewhere in the weekend if everything goes well "

Looking into his eyes and with suspicion in yours you asked as well

" As a date ?"

He wasn't expecting you to be straightforward as well , so he fidget with his fingers a little and with a nervous yet bright smile he said

" Yeah , I mean , if you want to of course "

The recess bell rang and everybody stood up to be free again , you grabbed your book and walked towards the door , but before you leave you said looking at him

" it's a date then "

With a smile that could've killed Bruce if he didn't want to stay alive to see you tomorrow , God bless the biology teachers man .

Billy Showalter

His dog Harper was Billy's loyal companion , a very well behaved girl too , never biting things that she shouldn't , no barking unless there's danger or she's commanded to , not jumping into people in excitement , in general , a really good girl . The mornings delivering News Papers are much better with her by his side , at that hour people are still processing their awakening and there's little people on the street , but the ones that are outside never got a complain about her , in fact , they usually want to ask for permission to pet her instead . Lately someone that he seen outside at early morning was you , sometimes with groceries in your hand , sometimes only walking by yourself . You were one of Billy's classmate , but he doesn't talk with anybody in it , at least not anymore , and you were no exception . Sometimes he founds himself staring at you and then snapping out of it , trying to ignore whatever feeling he had to do such thing , but something about you , that mysterious unexpressive charm , the stern look in your eyes , is something that he can't quite describe with words and is afraid of digging for a definition in his mind . Unfortunately for this boy one of those mornings you decided to walk your rescued male dog and Harper for the first time ran away towards the dog to meet him , both with waggy happy tails sniffing each other . Billy stops his bike at a mailbox and runs towards her , to you

" Harper ! Harper ! I'm Sorry , she's never like that , I don't know what's up with her "

The female dog comes close to you waiting to be petted , and you were more than happy to give her what she wanted

" it's ok , she's a really good girl , she just wanted to meet the new handsome boy here "

Billy knew you were referring about your dog , but his stupid brain still made his cheeks burn from the blush , why's he's being like this ?

Harper licks your hand and you giggle from the tickle feeling in your palm , you smile , and he smiles too . More pleased about the morning you said

" You want me to walk with you while you deliver your papers ? Then we can both take the dogs for a walk "

Something more mysterious about you was how quickly you made Billy accepted the fact once for all about his crush about you , maybe the moment your face light up with your smile had enchanted him

" Yeah , I don't mind , Harper hasn't seen that many dogs around anyway "

Harper always helping him in the simple things , she's for sure getting a special treat today after you're gone .

Robin Arellano

He may not seem like that , but he's a person with a good memory and remembers a bunch of people even they don't remember him ( Difficult to say since almost everybody in school knows his name ) . He remembers you from elementary school , Robin thought you were the cute one of the class , although his classmates prefer to call you the " quiet " one . He noticed how you never changed , always focusing on your studies and never smiling , not even for the photos , not even for politeness , always keeping your expressions neutral and seriousness in your way of acting .

Life crossed your paths the day a bully that didn't find his victim who didn't showed up in school decided to go after you instead , poor choice of decision , because Robin did , he showed up , and beat him up .

After he was done , he walked on his way to the boy's bathroom , but you stopped him , and Robin was deep down afraid he messed up things instead of making them better between both of you

" Robin ! "

Trying to keep his cool when he hears your voice behind him , he turns around and responds

" yeah ?"

Without finding more words to describe your gratitude , you kept it simple and said with a gentle smile

" Thank you "

Yes ! He did impressed you ! It was all damn worth it !

" No problem "

Robin walked again feeling like the main character of an action movie , and you smiled at him too ? You ? The good looking and serious you ? Nah he ain't forgetting this day for nothing !

Finney Blake

This year he wasn't sitting alone on the back on the class , well , he was still on the back on the class , but he was sharing his desk this time , with you . Finney had to admit it was hella awkward , I mean , he can't complain that much since it could be worse or Finney himself is too much of a shy guy to start a conversation or keep it on with a stranger . You , his desk mate , never talked to him , not even once , and your cold serious personality didn't make things easier , the two of you introverts , teachers never had to complain about the noise that you guys could make in class . A regular day in math class the teacher talked about the possibility of numbers being negative and being under the 0 , this got the interest of the students because it was something relatively new so far .

Finney murmured to himself casually

" Damn , not even numbers can't stay positive "

It was a bad joke ? Yes , but it was so unexpected he stole a snort and giggle from you , you had to shut yourself up with your hand or else more laughing would be heard by the teacher .

In Finney's opinion it was a terrible one , he's not even that funny , he was surprised yet amused at your sudden change of expression . Maybe he could push his luck a little further ?

" I guess we can't be negative if we just started "

You stopped from escaping a laugh from your mouth once again , maybe Finney couldn't see your complete smile , but your half closed happy eyes got his ego fly over the roof .

They say " stay with the one that makes you laugh "

So don't worry , laugh all you want from now on , he's good at math anyway , he can always teach you if you got too distracted for him .

Not like Finney minds your company at all .

Griffin Stagg

The day he saw you smile after 2 years of watching you keeping your face as unexpressed as possible , was the day a older group of bullies bumped into him , and God , he was so fine with being invisible for other students and not dealing with being a punch bag , that he tried to run away as fast as he could before they could do anything . But stronger and experts on making kid's lives hell , they quickly grabbed his shirt and started to mock him and test him in front of everybody in the cafeteria . Griffin didn't say anything , he couldn't , or else it would be worse , he knows that like the back of his hand . 3 tall dudes , 1 grabbing his shirt , 2 grabbing each of the boy's arms , it seemed like everything was lost , but you pulled up the one in front of Griffin by the shirt and tucked him to the ground . The two boys left pushed Griffin to the ground as well , and went straight to attack you .

But you dodge all of them easily .

After giving the whole cafeteria a show to watch , the boys got up and swore that it wasn't over , but you couldn't care less . You walked towards Griffin and offered him your hand , he stays still without knowing what to say or do more than stare in confusion , until he spoke

" Thank you ... For helping me "

With a big bright smile that didn't fit someone like you , so serious and capable of defeating 3 guys , you responded

" It's nothing , now get up Griff "

Griff ? No one has called him like that before . But , it doesn't sound bad , right ? He kinda likes the nickname .

#the black phone #tbp headcanons #tbp fandom #tbp #the black phone x reader #finney blake #bruce yamada #billy showalter #griffin stagg #robin arellano #vance hopper #finney blake x reader #robin arellano x reader #vance hopper x reader #billy showalter x reader #tbp griffin #bruce yamada x reader

785 notes · View notes

cloversnstrawberries · 1 month ago

Note

Can I request a platonic yandere Stars members (Wesker, Jill, Chris, etc) with a fellow stars member

If won't/don't do multiple people, could you do Wesker or Chris

All of your work has been very good and I love the layout of your blog and the actual work

Have a good day or night

platonic!yandere!S.T.A.R.S & S.T.A.R.S!gn!reader headcanons ! !

masterlist !

includes albert wesker, jill valentine, chris redfield, and rebecca chambers !

additional notes; hello!! i absolutely can do multiple people, and thank you so much for dropping this request, i had a lot of fun writing it :) and aaugudhg,,, i literally died when i read this,, you're so sweet (˃̣̣̥ ︿ ˂̣̣̥) i'm sorry i took so long to finish this!! i really wanted to make sure they all had a lot of content/were equal (more or less) in word count :D i also hope i got their characterizations correct,,

the dynamics for this is fatherly albert, big sister jill, big brother chris (+sister claire, because i find myself incapable of not including her), and little sister rebecca!! yandere found family dynamics.. yandere found family dynamics save me...

warnings; Overprotectiveness, possessiveness, jealousy, (very slightly) implied kidnapping(?), manipulation, guns, light violence/mention of, Reader being left out of the loop, isolation, and probably more that i may have forgotten :[ if you think there's any I should add, please let me know!! :D

w/c; Albert (3.0k) | Jill (2.6k) | Chris (2.9k) | Rebecca (3.3k)

Albert Wesker

Even if you weren't qualified for it, he'd have you on the Alpha team. You’d been shooting for a position in the Bravo team, but somehow-- someway, you managed to charm your way into the captains good graces, enough for him to put you in the Alpha team,

Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you're going on missions with them. There were a few times where you did-- only because his higher ups (Umbrella, though you didn’t know that’s who he had to answer to) forced Wesker's hand, saying that you'd need to be demoted if you weren't actually going out in the field.

No, you were usually stuck behind, doing paperwork. You weren't complaining-- not usually, anyways. Yes, it often got boring and repetitive at times; but it's leagues better than the chaos you'd had to endure on the few required missions you went on every now-and-again.

And even then, your captain claimed they were some of the more mild missions the team had gone on. If that was mild, you sure as hell didn't want to see what the extreme could possibly be.

All in all, you were pretty alright with being saddled with all the technical things-- there were some you couldn't do, like the personal recounts that members had to fill out after a particularly high-stakes mission; but you did a good chunk of it.

One time, when you were heading to the break room for your lunch-- passing by Wesker's office, you heard him being... unusually loud. Animated, you're sure; the frosted window giving way to the interior obscured the finer details, but you could still see how he paced back and forth.

His hand was pressed to his ear-- no, his hand was holding a phone; the kind that can detach from their bases, that he was pressing to his ear, and you could practically feel the agitation that was just radiating off of him in droves.

It's not your fault-- that your curiosity got the best of you. That you tucked yourself against the nearby wall and pressed your ear to the door. If Wesker ever found out that you'd been eavesdropping, then he'd surely demote you-- or fire you entirely, was the more logical conclusion.

Which gave you all the more reason to not get caught. Despite it all, you liked this job. You liked the people you worked with-- you couldn't bare the thought of losing this job, if only because of your beloved co-workers.

The door was thick, but your captain was loud enough that you could catch most of the conversation.

It seemed like he was talking to his higher-ups-- strange, the thought of him having to answer to anyone but himself. It makes sense, though-- now that you've come face to face with it.

"I'm not sending them with the others," was what you heard first. You wondered who he was talking about-- and what he wouldn't be sending this mysterious person to, that seemingly, all other S.T.A.R.S members were going to.

...Quickly, you realized the only logical conclusion was that he referring to you. Maybe it was a high-stake mission, and whoever held authority over him (God, that never stops feeling like a strange concept to you) was saying you hadn't met whatever mission-quota required to stay on the Alpha team.

Which checks out, seeing as you were trained for the Bravo team-- graduating in the same class as Rebecca Chambers, not a single lick of real-world experience under your belt; you got the job on the basis that it'd be smaller stuff. Easy stuff, something a rookie like yourself could easily do without much trouble or personal harm.

For some god-forsaken reason, Captain Wesker was certain you'd make a fantastic fit for the Alpha team.

Whoever his higher-ups were, didn't seem to agree with him at all. And you wouldn't blame them! The last mission left you so shaken that Wesker told-- no, demanded-- you to take PTO. Reluctantly, you'd gone along with it. he sent you away with a pat on the shoulder, telling you to relax-- not worry about work for the three days he'd allotted you.

You weren't even sure if he could do that, just hand you PTO out of the blue. But then again, he is your boss-- and you have no personal experience in being such a thing to anyone, so who's to say.

Suddenly, a crash sounded out behind the door-- you jumped, leaning just a little further forward to make sure nothing seriously bad happened--

One of the chairs opposite from Wesker's own, the ones he'd tell anyone from interviewees to employees to have a seat in-- had somehow tilted over, and the loud crash was from when it collided with the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume that Wesker had, in a fit of uncharacteristic (to your knowledge) and explosive anger, shoved the innocent piece of furniture over.

A funny though— your captain, usually so calm and collected, doing something as silly as shoving a over a chair because he was having a tough time with his boss(es),

Really, you should've pulled yourself back-- but you felt rooted to the spot, watching as the clouded, but still recognizable, figure of Albert Wesker was absolutely just seething inside the office-- even through the barrier, you could see how tightly he was gripping the phone. Any harder, and it'd probably turn to dust in his palm.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration-- but he was holding it very, very tightly; his jaw clenched so hard that you worried for his teeth. If it'd been you, your teeth would've cracked ages ago with how tightly he grinding them together.

"I don't care what the execs want, Birkin! They're not going. I'm not sending them in like the others." Huh. That was the first time you'd ever gotten a name to the mysterious, possible higher-ups of your captain. You don't recognize the name from the precinct-- or any branch of Raccoon City law enforcement.

Maybe not a higher-up, then? Perhaps an acquaintance, or someone on a similar level of work hierarchy as Wesker? Maybe even a friend, if you were feeling so inclined.

But that didn't explain why they appeared to be talking about something relating to S.T.A.R.S, about a mission that you (you assumed he was talking about you, but you could be wrong) were being completely barred from for seemingly no reason.

Then, Wesker laughed-- an incredulous sort of noise, equal parts angry as it was mocking to whoever was on the receiving end of this phone call.

"What's got him so riled up...?" You mumble to yourself, unable to keep in your confusion-- as soon as you realized your mistake, Wesker paused. You darted back, heart pounding-- you should just head for your lunch break already. you were afforded a generous 30 minutes, but you'd probably used 1/4th of the time allotted,

If you weren’t careful, you'd waste half, or maybe even the entirety, of your break; if you didn’t restrain your curiosity soon,

And yet, you didn't leave. Didn't turn on your heel and run away like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Warily, you stared at the door-- willing the knob not to turn, praying to whatever would answer you that your boss hadn't heard that little question you'd intended entirely for yourself.

When you pacing started up again, his heavy boots thudding against the scratched hardwood floor of his office-- you breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and continued the task at hand.

This time, you didn't dare lean forward to see what he was doing. Having learned your lesson, you stayed far from the window; but just close enough to hear clearly.

A heavy, heaving sigh came next-- and you could practically visualize it now, your captains ever-present sunglasses pushed up to rest on his head, disturbing his perfectly gelled hair just a tad-- fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"What am I going to do with them, huh?" He... was repeating what the other person, this Birkin, said over the phone-- you think. That's the only way you could make sense of why he could've possibly said that.

A few moments of silence followed, before Wesker-- tone eerily calm, such a stark contrast to the irritated-- no, dare you say enraged-- demeanor he'd had less than five minutes ago.

It was giving you whiplash-- Wesker didn't make much sense with his emotions and personal actions on a good day, when he was actively trying to make himself understandable to you and the other S.T.A.R.S members.

He must be pretty damn close with this Birkin person-- making no attempts to hide his strangeness, the almost cryptic and archaic way he experienced and expressed his feelings.

"Well, you know better than to think I'll spill it all over the phone, Birkin." The name was said more fondly, supporting the idea that this Birkin was a friend of your captains-- we all get annoyed with our friends form time to time, yeah? Maybe that was it.

Maybe... this wasn't even about S.T.A.R.S at all? Would that be considered a stretch? You aren't too sure, the nerves eating away at you eased at the thought-- the idea that Albert was simply speaking about his own personal affairs.

In the absence of your anxiety about being involved in whatever he was talking about, you felt an immense guilt settle, heavy and suffocating in the back of your mind.

You had half the mind to just turn on your heel and head back to work-- to eat lunch at your desk, and work twice as hard on your assignments that day. Either because you wanted something to take your mind off the fact that you butted in on your Captains personal life (something he's obviously very cagey about in the first place, god knows how he'd react knowing that you'd pried some information about it from listening into his conversation, while he stayed entirely unaware to your presence) -- whichever made the most sense. Both, if you were feeling like being honest with yourself.

But, the next thing he said made your blood run cold-- your muscles lock up and your spine straighten. You're sure you resembled a rabbit ready to bolt than a trained (albeit new) member of S.T.A.R.S.

"But I'll let you in on a little secret," His voice wasn't as loud as it was clear-- precise, and it felt as if he was directly addressing you-- but you knew that couldn't possibly have been it.

"I've grown rather fond of them, and I don't feel like giving them up to be one of our little lab rats.” After that ominous bit of information was dropped like a bomb on you, Wesker went quiet.

The person on the other side of the phone must've been responding-- within half a minute, Wesker continued speaking himself.

"I wouldn't call them a pet, Birkin. More like a companion. To call them a pet would suggest they're so much lower than me; which isn't true at all." For a split second-- despite all the... strangeness of his other words, and the context of it all (no matter how disjointed and incomplete it was with you), you let warmth curl around your heart and ease any aches and pains.

For a second, you'd imagined that-- minus the clear superiority complex, he could've been giving you this odd compliment. Could be complimenting you to his friend.

You knew it wasn't so, but you couldn't help but dream for it. You always craved Wesker's praise and approval, no matter how pathetic it'd be to admit that, it was the truth. Honestly, you're surprised you haven't accidentally called him dad before.

And if you did let something like that slip without catching yourself, you'd hand in your two-week notice yourself-- given that you don't die of embarrassment before you had the chance to.

He laughed-- you'd never heard him do that before. Sure, he’s chuckled before; and he'd snickered a few times, but never laughed.

You were shocked by how he laughed-- it seemed more fit for a cartoon villain rather than a specialized police force captain. Maybe that's why he didn't do it often? Previously, you'd just assumed he found very little amusement in most things; or was just physically incapable of laughing for some unforeseen reason.

He'd stopped pacing a little while ago-- you'd been far more focused on his words, that you hardly saw a point in keeping track of his movement, or lack of such.

But, oh god, did you realize it when he started moving again--

It sounded like he was heading toward the door.

"I know, Birkin." Your captain said-- his voice closer. Fear gripped your heart; you had to move, you had to move now, or he'd find you out and you'd be absolutely done for-- That's something you can't really get past in this line of work, eavesdropping on your bosses private conversations-- whether or not he was speaking with a higher-up or a personal acquaintance.

No matter what, if that door opened and he saw you-- then you could kiss your job goodbye, and probably any chance to get a different job in this field ever again.

Nobody liked a Nosy Nancy, did they? Especially not Wesker-- who'd snapped at nearly everyone (noticeably, everyone but you) who'd had the misfortune of even entering the goddamn breakroom while he was in there and taking a call.

He laughed again, far too close for comfort-- you had enough wits about you to stumble back; if he were to open the door now, your position wouldn't as incriminating as before. No longer bracing against the wall, ear pressed to the door of his office.

But still, not a very good look; you just standing there. But your curiosity would be the end of you-- it made you stay stuck to the spot, wanting to catch the last bit of the conversation, even if you didn't understand it at all.

"Yes, yes. I'll be sure to keep them out of your work. As long as you keep your work from them, You know how I feel about my things getting damaged." The knob began to turn-- and as the door began to creak open, the beep! from his phone signaling that the call was over--

You still didn't move, not until the very last minute; turning on your heel, you barely got a few steps forward before your heart dropped your stomach, at the sound of--

"How long have you been out here?" He... didn't sound mad. A strange undertone of... amusement, you think, colored his tone. Fear and relief flooded your body at once-- relief at the idea that he didn't know any better,

And fear that you'd have to either fess up, or lie to cover your ass.

"I just got here, sir." You said, lying through your teeth. It's moments like these, where the fact he's always wearing sunglasses makes you feel even more nervous then if he wasn't-- because, as it was, he was absolutely impossible to get a read on, expression wise.

Then again, there's no real telling if him losing the sunglasses would help at all-- but it still gave you immense anxiety. Not being able to see the look in his eyes, not being able to see any possible emotion he may hold in them.

A few seconds pass by, spent by internally queueing up your goodbyes to your fellow co-workers-- bracing yourself for the worse, for him the reveal that he knew you were lying; because obviously, he'd know. You were an awful liar, and he'd told you so numerous times before,

Though, always with a sort of fondness in his tone-- the kind he never seemed to spare to anyone besides you. At least when you're present, that it-- could be a completely different story while you out of the room.

...Probably not, given how your colleagues always seem to surprised by how 'soft' Wesker was with you-- it'd gained him the nickname 'momma bird', only whispered when you all know that there's not chance of him finding out about it.

"Hm," He said-- before stepping to the side, pulling the door with him, his arm outstretched, silently inviting you inside. You didn't take it, still so nervous-- had he seen you? did he see through your lie?

"Well then, aren’t you going come in? There is something you wish to speak with me about, yes? Or were you just checking in on my well-being?” Finally, you felt the pressing weight of absolute hopelessness lift from your shoulders, the tension visibly leaving your body all at once.

He quirked a brow at your silence, at your immobility-- you jolted, and nodded enthusiastically, scanning your brain for anything you could possibly talk to him about. You'd just been on your way to lunch-- that was it, you had nothing to speak with him about.

But he seemed... expectant. And you swore you saw a smirk on his face--

Well, it was better not to overanalyze it. You followed his 'invitation' (more like a command) and headed into his office; he gestured to the two chairs opposite of his own bigger, fancier one-- he hadn't picked the chair up from the ground yet, you realize.

You stood there for a moment, before picking it up for him. However, you sit in the other one. He gave you a token "Thank you." Before walking around the desk and sitting in his own chair.

Never in your life had you been so quick to bullshit some random, silly question-- that strange little smirk never left his face, but you opted to ignore it in its entirety. If you kept thinking about it, that'd only serve to make you even more anxious.

You didn't know it-- you didn't know how he was looking at you from beneath the sunglasses, like he was studying you. Like he was planning something-- and maybe if you had, maybe if his eyes hadn't been obscured and you would've somehow caught the concerning glint in them, then maybe you could've saved yourself a hell of a lot of trouble down the line.

Jill Valentine

When you first joined S.T.A.R.S, you and and Jill hit it off in an instant-- getting along like a house on fire, Chris jokingly remarked.

You could either be on Alpha or Bravo team, but no matter what, Jill latched onto you like nobodies business. Showing you around the office-- at times hijacking the tour your boss was giving, just so she could give it herself. She always got away with it because she was so enthusiastic about it.

If you were on Alpha team, she'd constantly be pairing up with you during missions; no doubt about it, she's keeping you as close as humanly possible. You don't have a choice in it.

Now, if you were apart of Bravo-- she'd definitely try to change that, to put a good word in for you to Wesker... only to get shot down, and for him to tell her that you were right where you were supposed to be. And unless you showed a 'great deal of talent he otherwise hasn't seen', then you would stay with the Bravos.

Suddenly, after that conversation, she started to drag you from your desk and take you to the shooting range-- like, daily. She'd try her best to help you improve anyway she could, including (but certainly not limiting) how to handle a gun, how to properly utilize a melee weapon against both an unarmed and armed perp, hand-to-hand combat, how to pin someone bigger than yourself down and keep them down,

and of course, her Specialty, lockpicking. You took to it like a fish to water, she said-- it was by far what you were best at among the things she tried to teach you at the point, and she could barely contain her glee at that fact.

However... it was a completely different story for the other things she tried teaching you. The kinds of skills that you develop naturally over an extended period of time, over multiple missions. Something you can't just... learn.

You weren't skilled enough in aim to hold a gun like she tried to teach you to, and in the same vein-- you weren't skilled enough in handling the gun to use the tips and tricks she gave you for aiming.

It was like a never ending cycle, where you couldn't do one thing, and when she tried to target it form another angle-- that didn't work either, because you couldn't do the first thing.

It was extremely frustrating for the both of you, particularly Jill. She did great at not showing it, though. She was all smiles as she gave you a pat on your shoulder, and said you'd get it eventually.

Eventually was the keyterm-- but Jill refused to believe that'd it'd take any longer than two weeks tops to get you up to Alpha team status.

That, evidently, did not happen. She had to switch tactics, and came up with the idea of doing more joint missions with Bravo.

Jill is very... protective, and at first, you thought nothing of it. You saw it as normal for this line of work, for her to be watching your back-- always checking in on you after missions, trying to push you to be your best, so on and so forth.

But then, you started to notice just how... far she could go with it. Apparently, if she was in the office and you were out on a mission-- she wasn't able to get anything done, and all she could do was just wait for you.

Her captain-- the head honcho, someone you don't like interacting with all too much out of pure, unexplainable primal terror at his very presence, often referred to her as 'your dog', 'your guard dog', your 'lap dog', or something else along those lines.

You wanted to tell him to stop, that it was degrading to Jill and just plain rude-- but you were too scared to stand up to him. It was silly, how a S.T.A.R.S member-- even if you were apart of the secondary team-- could go on missions and be just fine, but tremble at the idea of asking your boss to 'please stop calling your employee, my co-worker and friend, a dog'.

However, when he'd say it in front of Jill, she never seemed too bothered by the title.

If anything, she looked proud to be labeled as your guard dog-- one time, you asked her about it. Asked if it bothered her, and told her that if need be, you could probably sic the regular RPD police captain on Wesker if she was too afraid to speak up against it (God knows you were).

That conversation... didn't go how you were expecting it to. Actually it didn't go anywhere, not by your measures at least.

Jill laughed, said "Oh, that's just how he is!" and then completely switched topics, asking you if you'd watched Blade yet-- and if you wanted to tag along to the theaters with her to see it.

You didn't have the heart to steer the conversation back, so you just let her dodge it. But hey-- at least you got to see a movie out of it? Granted, she was probably going to ask you anyways, but still. It takes away a bit of the guilt you have for not pushing the issue, weirdly enough.

At some point, whether or not you get on the Alpha team doesn't matter anymore-- because somehow, for a completely archaic reason that nobody (including yourself) but the two main people involved could figure out, Wesker begins planning and executing more joint missions between the two teams.

It'd be a good thing, if you could just believe that this was entirely the A team captain's doing-- of course with the involvement of your captain as well, but he was much less involved from what you could tell.

But the thing is-- you just couldn't bring yourself to believe it. The proud, almost victorious looks Jill kept giving you on the first few joint missions-- like the cat who caught the canary, or a gladiator who just won the match of the century-- made you question if the decision had laid solely on Wesker.

During this joint missions, Jill was hard-pressed to let you out of her sight. Even when your captain suggested the teams go opposite ways; you always stuck behind. Maybe because you didn't want to worry Jill,

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because of the way her grip tightened on your hand, arm, shoulder-- wherever she was holding you-- tight enough to bruise (if you didn't have your tactical gear on, of course).

Whatever the reason was, whether it be one of the two, or an unseen third option, you never split off with you team on these joint missions.

Neither captains said anything of it-- sure, Marini would give either Wesker or Jill a strange, almost suspicious, look-- but he never commented on it. At least, he never commented on it with you.

It was strange, yes, but you chocked it up to her history in the military-- for lack of a better reason. Maybe she saw a rookie in need of help, and took it upon herself to help you any way she could; that much was evidenced by her rigorous training sessions she'd been subjecting you to until the joint missions started up.

But still, it didn't feel like... that. It didn't feel like she was simply a co-worker-- you saw her as a friend, and you're sure she felt the same about you; she never seemed to have viewed you as her subordinate, like you'd viewed her as your superior for a(n albeit short) amount of time.

You and Jill hung out all the time outside of work, completely unrelated to S.T.A.R.S at all-- movies, skating rinks, and carnivals; anything and everything interesting happening in and around Raccoon City, Jill was always sure to drag you along.

Then, it escalated to hanging out at each others apartments/homes. More often than not, it'd be her place-- it was nicer than yours, an actual home and not just a residence. There were pictures and posters hung up all over the place, her own personal touch having reached every corner of the apartment.

Sometimes, you'd forget how you met her-- that she was really just a co-worker, at the end of the day. You were fresh out of training, slapped right in the workforce, where you'd met Jill. You don't know how these things work, in all honesty, you never quite understood how to make friends past the kindergarten way of going up to someone, hand extended, and straight-up asking "Wanna be friends?"

Eventually, you progressed to practically living with Jill. It was unofficial-- but with how many sleepovers you two had, you were barely at your own place anymore. Hell, you had your own toothbrush at her place!

She didn't comment on it much-- the one time she did, you two were camped out in her living room; the couch pushed back, chairs pulled from her kitchen table and various sheets and blankets draped over them; pillows and cushions below, along with more blankets.

A pillow fort, to say the least. Right in front of her big CRT TV-- you were watching X-Files, something Jill had expressed interest in started, but only wanted to if you started with her.

You were dropped right at the start of Season five-- there was a marathon going, preparing for the new season that was preparing to release 'soon' (it never said a specific date, just an ominous 'soon' was all the network could afford at this point), but you two picked up on the little bits and pieces pretty quick, piecing it together with things from previous seasons that'd you'd hear here and there from others.

both of your were laying on your stomachs, propped up by pillows so you could 'sit up' comfortably, your arms braced against the floor, while Jill was more or less laying down, her chest resting on her folded arms as she watched the TV diligently.

When it cut to commercial, she turned to you, and out of the blue, just...

"When I was a kid, I always wanted a sibling, y'know?" You turned to face her, and hummed in acknowledgement, "Oh?" You said, prompting her continue the thought.

She turned back to the TV, mindlessly staring at the Mr Clean ad playing at the time-- but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere, she probably didn't even register when the ads switched, or what it had switched to.

"Yeah," She started off with, as the ad transitioned to Taco Bell "A little one, specifically. One I could share clothes with, give advice to," She turned to you again, a sly little smile on her face as her arm reached out and lightly-- playfully, barely any force behind it-- pushed you.

"Sleepovers in the living room-- all that jazz. The stuff they showed on TV and I read about in Babysitters Club." You felt a smile break out over your own face-- a warmth blooming in your chest.

Maybe this wasn't normal for co-workers-- to view each other as family, just like you two did; but you didn't care. Whether or not it was a normal thing remained unseen by you, but even if it wasn't...

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

...Even if Jill got a little too protective at times-- acting more like those dads in films, that'd come to greet their daughters prom date with a shotgun in hand and a violent threat on their tongue than the sister figure you viewed her as.

On one of your more low stakes joint-missions, one where you all had to track down a group of lost frat boys from the local university (who'd gotten turned around in the local forest while high, and cried about zombified dogs hanging around when you'd found them), one of the aforementioned frat boys had the grand idea of hitting on you.

His bad pick-up line was cut short as a gun shot whizzed by you two-- just narrowly missing his head, and loading itself into a tree about 30 feet back.

Understandably, he started freaking out-- he pointed to Jill, and yelled about how she tried to kill him. Wesker shot her a glare-- you think he did, couldn't really tell with the sunglasses, but the way he tilted his head gave you that vibe-- and Jill just shrugged her shoulders.

"I thought I saw a wolf." Was all she gave for an answer-- flimsy at best, an obvious lie at worst. Wesker let it go, though-- to your knowledge. Sure, he told her "This'll have to go in the report.", but when you read over the report later-- there was no mention of the shot Jill took at a 'wolf' during that mission.

After the mission was over and you'd got the group back to where they were meant to be, she threw her arm over your shoulder-- pulling you close and saying "That's why I don't like dealing with these college-types all too often, they always do this. Don't let 'em walk all over you though, 'kay? You deserve better than that." before she pushed off, leaving you with that... cryptic piece of advice.

It was a good piece of advice-- don't get me wrong! Jill was just... like that sometimes, giving you cryptic, almost archaic in nature, pieces of advice before bouncing off to somewhere else-- smiling like nothing was amiss.

maybe to her, it wasn't. But to you, these behaviors of hers weren't getting rather concerning. Maybe because they were becoming more frequent, or maybe because they were getting more intense. A mix of the both, honestly.

Still, you didn't confront her about it.

You kept having sleepovers with her-- to the point where you like, actually lived with her. You don't even remember what color your bedroom walls in your apartment were-- or even what the kitchen looked like.

Eventually, she asked you to move in with her. Saying it'd be easier, since you were basically wasting your money-- paying rent for a place you hardly ever visit anymore. Not many of your things remain, most were packed up and placed in Jill's guest/storage (or, what was once her guest/storage room, but you'd now taken it over) room. You could probably get all the stuff left in one trip-- except maybe the furniture, but even then, the furniture wasn't too much of a loss.

You'd be surprised what college students will put out on the curb at the end of the school year-- or, to be more specific, the private university students. Still, you were a little proud that nearly 95% of your furnishings had come from that method-- walking along the alleyway of streets with a lot of rental places for the local university's students.

It was a logical step and you knew it, officially moving in with Jill, that is. But the way she worded it was... odd.

"C'mon, what am I good for if I don't help out family?" She could've meant that figuratively-- if anyone else said it, then you would've defaulted to that;

But knowing Jill, that just wasn't the case. Hell-- you got called Rookie Valentine by one of the regular cops just a couple weeks ago, and when you went to correct them-- they just laughed and brushed you off,

"Fightin' with ya sister, huh? I used to do that-- with my dad, 'a course. Deny my last name 'n all that." Then, the cop gave you a pat on your shoulder and walked by you "Whatever you're upset about, it'll blow right over; trust me, bonds like you's two have don't go away like that."

Maybe it was stupid-- how quickly you folded, simply nodding your head; within a second or two, Jill had practically flown into you, her arms outstretched. She pulled you into a tight embrace. You reciprocated it-- no reason not to, after all.

But... hey, at least you don't have to deal with your landlord anymore, yeah?

Chris Redfield (and claire)

In some ways, Chris and Jill act pretty similarly when it comes to you. In others, they were near opposites.

For example, If you happened to be on Bravo Squad, he would much rather have you stay there indefinitely. He knows how mentally and physically tiring the Alpha team's work can be compared to Bravo's, which were pretty much just backup, in simplest terms.

He'd want to distance you as far away from Alpha teams work as he could manage. There's not point in putting you through that-- his way of protecting you is shielding you from it all by keeping you uninvolved, where Jill would much rather prefer to have you involved, by keeping you right next to her at all times.

You two hit it off the moment you stepped into that office- of course you did, who didn't get along with Chris? He was a literal ray of sunshine, and every morning, you couldn't help but look forward to that beaming smile he'd always give you once he spotted you.

It was normal-- run of the mill. You two were just friendly in a way co-workers were friendly; you saw yourself as no different then everyone else, when it came to how Chris treated you.

But it was small things-- at first, but they began to pile up, and up, and up-- until you couldn't help but notice them. It's not like you're painfully oblivious to everything,

...Just this, you reason with yourself. Listen, it's not your fault you didn't realize you were a special case to Chris! You thought it was normal, how he'd always drop by your desk when you both had morning shift, and slide a muffin, danish, a doughnut-- whatever he'd gotten that day, over to you.

He'd always check up on you, make sure you were eating properly-- he didn't try to cover it up either, didn't try to pull the tried-and-true "You need the proper nutrients to do your job well!", he just straight up admitted that he wants you to be healthy. No ulterior motives-- just... wants you to take care of yourself, because that's what you're supposed to do, for your own good.

He's a very caring person-- you assumed that he had this same level of caring for everyone in the office.

One time, when Claire swung by the office during her winter break-- she immediately beelined it to your desk. It was a little intimidating, because for a split second, you didn't know who she was; to be honest, you were a little afraid she was here to yell at you for messing up on a mission somewhere along the line; either as a civilian or a higher up, even though she didn't seem too far in age from yourself.

But as soon as it clicked-- right before she got up to your desk, that she just had to have been Claire Redfield, Chris' younger sister, you relaxed just a bit. She was probably just introducing herself to the newest addition; after all, most everyone else seemed to know her personally, or have at least met her once or twice before.

She was pretty nice, actually-- you two had a good conversation, and you're pretty sure you left a good first impression on her. But meeting her-- how she greeted you for the first time, was what tipped you off to the fact that no, Chris does not go out of his way to make sure all his co-workers are eating well, or keeping up with a solid sleep schedule like he does to you.

"Hey, you're the new addition to the family, right?" is what she said, word for word. At first, you thought nothing of it; thinking that she was referring to S.T.A.R.S as a family-- Jill did that pretty often, and you'd caught Chris doing the same a few times before.

You nodded, and you two got to talking. She was nice to talk to-- lively and animated, and you found yourself falling into a comfortable sort of routine. It was as if you'd known each other your whole lives-- she knew a lot about you, but just stuff that you'd told Chris, or he'd picked up on in passing.

"Does he talk about me a lot?" You remember asking, anxiety tinging your tone. Claire clocked it immediately, and leaned over slightly, from where she was sitting atop your desk; and gave you a pat on your shoulder, as you sat in your office chair.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's all good things, and you sure as hell live up to how much he hypes you up during our calls." Yeah, you remember Chris saying he called his sister as often as he could. You were always impressed by how family oriented Chris could be. It was sweet, how often he'd talk about his sister.

A little bit of weight eased off your chest, as you let out a breathy little laugh "Hah-- that's good." You felt a little silly for being worried about it. Of course Chris told Claire about you, he's proudly boasted before that he tells her everything-- you were sure he treated the others no differently.

Even if you weren't on the same team as him. Even if, more often than not, he had to go out of his way to interact with you. You're sure Claire heard a lot more about the newest Alpha recruit-- you'd never spoken in depth with them, just passing "Hello"'s and "Good morning"'s as you pass each other on the way to your respective sections of the S.T.A.R.S office.

When there was opening in the conversation, you casually asked "Do you know anything about the new Alpha team recruit? I think their birthday is soon, and I want to get them a card." You were trying to take a page out of Chris' book-- being nice to everyone, going out of your way. It was a small operation in the grand scheme of things, S.T.A.R.S. It was best to try and make everyone feel at home.

Claire paused, her brows furrowed "...There's a new Alpha recruit?"

Why did that give you such a bad vibe? Why did it feel like an ill omen, you'd asked yourself at the time-- you quickly responded, unease curling in your gut for a reason you couldn't quite place at the time.

"Uh-- yeah, his name is... Mark, I think. He joined about a month ago, from what I know. Tall guy, ginger hair, seems to be in his mid to late 20s." Even as you described the man-- a very distinctive person, you think; there was no flash of recognition in Claire's eyes.

Claire seemed to think it over, before shaking her head slowly "No-- I don't think Chris has ever mentioned a Mark."

"Huh..." You said under your breath-- never mentioned him? They work together, on the same team-- you haven't been here much longer than Mark has. It set off alarm bells in your head, that he told Claire so much about you, and yet... she didn't even know Mark was with you guys in the first place.

There was a beat of tense silence between you two, then another-- until Claire suddenly said "How do you feel about roller skating?", obviously trying to divert your attention from the matter at hand.

You let her-- and you two fell into a conversation about roller skating, that eventually progress to ice skating, skateboarding, surfing-- those kind of activities/sports.

It had to have been at least an hour and a half before Claire got pulled away-- Marini approached you two, and shooed Claire off, like, literally. Made the motion with his hands and everything, as he told her "Redfield, you're distracting my team member. Go bug your brother."

Claire huffed, rolling her eyes as she pushed off your desk "Yeah, yeah. I'm going." It surprised you-- how casual she was with Marini, and disrespectful. But, she doesn't work under him, so you guess she has nothing to fear with upsetting him, since he isn't her brother's superior either.

...You just hope she's a little more delicate with Wesker.

Before leaving, she gave a quick little side hug, and told you "Catch you later, okay? It was nice meeting you.", you nodded and smiled, returning the hug best you could "Same goes for you. It was nice talking to you."

Claire laughed as she pulled away, giving you a light, playful punch in your shoulder "Hey, no need to be so formal. We're family now, I won't gut you for talking like an actual person.", Marini cleared his throat, and Claire rolled her eyes again-- leaving without another word to either of you.

She did, however, give you a little smile a wave, before she headed over to the A team's part of the office.

'we're family now', she said. Did that mean anything, or were you just overthinking it? She was just being friendly, you told yourself-- the Redfield's did this with everyone, you assumed.

After that, you and Chris started to go from work friends-- co-workers who were friendly with eachother, to actual friends. The first time you two hung out outside of work, was in a quaint little 24/7 diner near the RPD station.

The two of you had gotten off at the same time, 10 PM-- and Chris had dragged you along with him, saying that he wanted to get to know you more, without Marini or Wesker showing up at any given moment and telling their respective members to get the hell back to work, or for the member of the other team (often Marini to Chris) to leave the other alone, so they could do their work.

Chris always took it with a laugh and a smile-- but... well, it was stupid, you think. That look in his eyes couldn't have meant anything-- you'd never seen him look like that, but it was scarily close... hatred? No, irritation, it had to be. You don't think Chris is capable of hatred directed towards anyone short of a war criminal, in all honesty.

But at any rate, it's still an odd idea-- Chris being irritated at someone who isn't in the wrong. Objectively, Marini was doing nothing wrong; he was your boss, and he wanted you working while on shift.

But the way Chris would look at him suggested otherwise, like Marini had just kicked his dog or burned a belonging of his.

It was weird.

You forced yourself to-- well, not get used to it per se, the weirdness of it never went away, but you tried not to dwell on it too much. Tried to ignore it best you could, and while it was difficult, more often than not you could manage just fine.

Anyway-- it went well, hanging out with him at the diner. It was fun, and light-hearted; no imminent threat of the fun being broken up by a mission for work (while the chances weren't necessarily zero, they were very low while you two were off the clock-- unless it was like, a world ending sort of deal. if that was the case, then you'd have more problems at hand then getting called into work abruptly...), just you, Chris, and the local family diner that was done-up to look like a time capsule of idealized 1950s Americana.

He dropped you off back home-- insisting that you don't walk home so late. After that-- after he learned that you walked home after every shift, come rain or shine, and despite the time of day (or night), you always walked.

When Chris realized this-- every time you got off shift together, whenever he was available; he'd drive you home. You thought it was sweet, but... confusing to say the least.

Surely, he'd do the same for anyone else, right?

As the months passed and your friendship progressed-- where you hung out almost every weekend, completely unrelated to work in any capacity, it hit you like a ton of bricks that Chris wasn't just like that. Not to the level he was with you-- yes, he was kind and accommodating to everyone, but wasn't going above and beyond for anyone but you.

But... why? What was so special about you? How come he didn't do this for other new recruit-- that joined not so long after you, who was on his team. He definitely naturally sees/runs into the guy more then he sees you in passing.

It just didn't make sense, and no matter how much you thought and thought about it-- it never managed to get any better. You never understood it any further, and you all but gave up on trying to understand the reason behind it.

You could ask Chris about it, but then that'd be awkward, and you don't want to deal with that-- you don't want to seem like you're coming at him or anything. It might just be because you're younger, so assumed that sort of mentor role because he was in that position one?

By now, you've come to terms with that. That it doesn't make sense, and you'll probably never be able to make sense of it on your own-- and you were too scared of upsetting Chris to actually ask the guy.

So you kind of just... stuck in a loop. But that's fine-- because you had things to distract yourself with! Like your hobbies, and work, and hanging out with your friends;

...Maybe not the last one, thought. For some reason, all of your other friends have all but dropped off the face of the earth. You tried reaching out to one--

Only to find out that they were... in jail. It was a minor offense, but still. That wasn't like them at all-- it'd been their sister to pick up the call, and you'd been subjected to a very, very heated telling off by her.

She seemed to think it was your fault, that you sicced 'your brother' on them for some perceived slight-- one that you couldn't think of, and neither could she.

You tried calming her down, but it only ended with the call abruptly ending-- her screaming at you to "Leave my family alone! Yours has done enough damage to ours ot last a lifetime!"

Then it was over.

Whether or not you have brothers-- you know that couldn't be right. If you did have brothers, then you know they wouldn't-- or just didn't have the means to-- lock your friend up in jail for... whatever it was, you think it was some traffic related violation.

Something that you know can be easily staged-- Marini had told you so before, as you sorted through some old cases. These sorts of violations were usually a dead giveaway that the recipient had pissed off a cop, who wasn't above faking an offense to get back at them.

You could only think of one person who'd possibly fit that weird description-- Chris was sort of a brother to you, in loose terms. He acted brotherly with you, is what you'd like to call it.

Really, you want to confront him about it, but you don't have enough evidence.

He wouldn't do something like that, yeah? He's a good guy, he wouldn't fuck up someone's life by wielding his position of power over them for no reason at all. It had to be unrelated-- just a weird set of coincidence. You don't think you've ever told Chris about that friend, so how would he even know about them?

You didn't bother reaching out to your other friends-- hoping they'd reach out to you. It was stupid, your fear of getting an earful from a pissed off family member again-- or getting blamed for whatever happened.

So you just... well-- you wouldn't call yourself a coward, but Chris couldn't be it. He just wouldn't have done something like that, especially without clear reason-- it couldn't have been him.

Again. Nothing made sense-- it hurt, knowing you'd probably lost a treasured friendship for something you don't know anything about,

But at least Chris is there to ease your ills, right? At least he answered your phone call at 10 PM, and stayed with you for an hour after that, comforting you as you cried and told him that you didn't know what was going on.

he was so genuine as he comforted you-- even over the phone, which you knew had to be harder to do than comfort someone face to face-- that you ended up letting it go.

You ruled out the idea that Chris had been behind it all-- maybe because you really didn't think it'd ever been a viable explanation,

Or maybe, deep down, you know Chris could-- if pushed far enough-- probably be capable of something like that. Despite how you interact with each other, how you talk like you've known each other your whole lives, you'd known each other for under a year by that point.

But you selfishly hoped-- and presented this hope as fact to yourself-- that he didn't do it, because he really was one of your closest friends; especially since everyone else drifted away from you.

You couldn't lose him too-- or Claire, because you know that if a falling out happens with one, it's sure to follow with the other. They're like that, the Redfield siblings, as you've come to learn.

And you'd rather not be caught on the receiving end of Claire's world-ending death glare, thank you very much. You don't think you could handle it-- emotionally wise, that is.

Rebecca Chambers

Surprisingly, You'd probably be better suited on Alpha team when it comes to Rebecca.

Still, you probably graduated in the same class as her; however, you weren't a child prodigy like she was. You being older then her gave you leg up in the recruitment process, which landed you in the Alpha team and her in the Bravo team.

You may not have interacted with each other a whole lot during school-- no real reason, you two just never crossed paths all that often.

But after joining S.T.A.R.S at the same time, you two made a sort unofficial pact to stay together; despite being on two different teams, you'd try to look out for each other. For one, you were a little worried about hazing.

Was it a silly thing to be afraid of in workforce? Well, yeah-- but there was still a possibility. If any field of work would incite some sort of frat-esque hazing ritual, it'd be law enforcement!

So you exchanged landline numbers, and kept tabs on each other as much as you could. You took initiative a whole lot, and kept watch on both your and Rebecca's co-workers.

In the end, nothing happened. Obviously-- since there was such a miniscule chance it would, but the 2-3 week period of this, of constantly checking in each other (usually you to Rebecca, since Bravo members tended to be a little less mature on the basis of the less real-world experience and such; and she was young, an easy target in the eyes of people who didn't quite know her), built up a pretty solid rapport with the younger rookie. One that couldn't just easily fall to the wayside.

Even though you're on different teams, you still encounter each other pretty often. At first, it was a practical thing-- you checking up on Rebecca,

Until Rebecca started seeking you out for more normal things. Like to tell you about her latest mission, or a funny thing her captain did-- to exchange stories of your respective team members being absolute goofballs, so on and so forth.

it was nice, these little chats you'd have. They were never very few and far between, not even at the start-- Some were accidental, like bumping into each other in the break room, clocking out at the same time and having a little chat before heading out, so on and so forth.

But as the weeks went on, turning to months of working under the same roof-- If there was ever a moment where she could come find you, you better bet your ass she was there.

From the moment you stepped in the building in the morning, to whenever you came back from a mission; when you were getting ready to leave, Rebecca would do whatever she could to be near you. Sometimes they were conversations-- where you put your own thoughts and whatever into the topic, but sometimes it was just Rebecca explaining something she was interested in, or telling you every single tiny, microscopic detail of a story she'd already told you before.

You never stopped her-- it never hurt anything. Due to her being the youngest, people let her get away with it. As long as both your reports were turned in on time and done well, then what does it matter that you talk to each other while you were at it?

At some point, Rebecca would definitely just pull a chair up and do her work at your desk. Her own desk at the section with the other Bravo members went unused for long stretches of time-- you were fine with it.

Again, it was nice having someone to hang out with. She didn't talk to whole time, most of the time, you two lapsed into a comfortable silence as you did your own reports/paperwork at your own leisure. Sometimes, one of you would pop up with a little comment, spurring a response from the other-- but it never went much further then that, in those moments.

...That's when Marini cut in though. Saying it'd be better for Rebecca to head back to her own space-- to stop bothering you. You tried your damn best to reiterate that "No, she's fine. I swear, I work even better when she's here--" But a quick, withering glance from Marini made you reluctantly shut your mouth.

Rebecca looked heartbroken-- you met her eyes, and tried to convey your apology that way. She didn't look angry or upset with you, just sad about the circumstances. Understanding, that you'd done all you could in the moment, as she grabbed her papers and went to push the chair-- that'd you'd known as her chair for a few weeks by then-- into where it was actually meant to be, in an unused desk right by yours.

Marini was watching the whole time, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. You saw how Rebecca's hand trembled ever-so-slightly under her captains scrutinizing gaze, and you reached out to pat her hand comfortingly; stopping her in her tracks. "Hey, it's okay. I'll get the chair, you go to your desk, okay?"

She looked up, and you gave her a reassuring little smile. She looked kind of like a kicked puppy-- it tugged on your heart, made you wish you really could do more.

She nodded, and softly said "okay.", and you'd expected her to pull back, to straighten up and walk off. Soon enough, you realized that, for whatever reason, she wasn't moving as long as you kept contact with you.

You removed your hand-- she looked saddened by the loss, but took it in stride, as she turned and trailed after Marini as he (presumably) led her back to Bravo's section of the S.T.A.R.S office.

it's not like they were really separate from each other-- or even blocked off per se, not in a purposeful way. You were just stationed on the far side of Alpha's side, the little dividers interspersed here and there primarily blocked your view of most Bravo team desks.

However, Rebecca's was right on the edge between Alpha and Bravo's unofficial-official sides of the room, and you were able to still look over at her from time to time.

After that-- you considered going to Wesker about it, but you were certain he'd either do nothing, or throw thinly veiled insults your (and indirectly, Rebecca's) way. Something along the lines of "Do you think this is grade school? That I'm a teacher you can negotiate a seating chart with?"

No matter how much you cared for Rebecca, you couldn't bring yourself to face that possibility of the utter mortification that talking to Wesker would undoubtedly bring you.

Two weeks passed, before Wesker pulled you into his office. He told you to sit in one of the two chairs opposing his own.

You bit your tongue, stifling the burning question of "Am I in trouble?" and waited for him to start on his own.

Apparently, Rebecca's performance had been experiencing a sharp decline during you two's times apart. Instead of firing her, Wesker sought to find another route to it.

"Would you say you two are close? Chambers and you?" He asked, and you had to question that yourself-- do you? You certainly see Rebecca as a friend, but a work one. Separate from a 'full-fledged' one, since you only see each other during work.

Finally, after a few suffocating seconds-- sat across from Wesker, his elbow resting on his desk as he held his face in his hand. You could feel him staring intently, even if you were unable to actually see that that was the case.

"Yeah-- I'd say we are. Why?" And then, that's when he told you about her performance, and presenting you with an opportunity that you took readily;

"How about you take a sort of mentor role for her? It seems she's having trouble acclimating to the workforce, which I wouldn't quite blame her for. She may be a child prodigy academically, but ultimately, she lacks the experience someone of your age does."

Immediately, you nodded-- before pausing, and asking "Have you talked to Marini about this?", and Wesker shook his head "No, I thought it'd be best to discuss this with you before going to him. Knowing Marini, he'd probably be less then stoked by this. I wouldn't want to go through the trouble of readying him only for you to decline the offer."

"...Yeah, makes sense." Was all you said-- You stayed there for about 15 more minutes, before being excused.

As you opened his door, a question crossed your mind. On a whim, you turned and asked "How long will it take, do you think?" You feared you might've been too vague at first, but Wesker seemed to know exactly what you meant, answering with his own "It shouldn't take too long at all, perhaps a few days at the most. I'd like to have this system integrated as soon as possible, before Chambers' performance rate drops low enough to where I have to consider letting her go."

You nodded, internally praying to whatever could be out there that she could keep it up for a little longer- long enough for your captain to talk to hers, to get this sort of mentorship up and a running so she can get back on track.

True to his words, three days later, and you walked into the precinct with your desk having been moved around; the empty desk besides yours had been moved, your desk turned sideways and the unused desk pushed to meet with yours.

It was set up to have someone there, no longer empty, it had a lamp, a computer, and some organizers and office supplies on it. Obviously, Wesker had gone through with the mentorship-- and when Rebecca came in a few minutes after you, her bus having been a little slow than usual, she was absolutely ecstatic.

She was talking a mile-a-minute, saying she didn't actually think Wesker would go through with it. In the end, she gave you a celebratory little hug; and you didn't hesitate in returning the favor, wrapping your arms around her and giving her a light squeeze before releasing her,

She took a few moments longer to unwind her arms from your waist, but you didn't mind. You were sure she was happy to be sat next to you.

Wesker never called you in about Rebecca's declining report quality/performance again, and that led you to believe that the issue was completely resolved.

Marini would come over sometimes, pull Rebecca off for a mission or something that needed the entire Bravo team present to hear. Every time, you would see her off with a little encouraging gesture. At first, it was a simple smile or squeeze of her hand-- then, the occasional hug.

But now, she borderline refused to leave with anything less than a hug from you. It wasn't bothersome-- it was comforting, actually.

And all was well and fine for a while-- until Alpha started to be called away for more and more missions, leaving your desk unoccupied more often than not.

While it didn't seem to be taking a toll of Rebecca's work performance, she was looking a little worse for wear. She was always so worried-- you didn't understand it, but you tried your best to be accommodating. The missions you went on were hardly dangerous, sometimes you'd be pulled in to answer a larger scale call about nuisance-- it always got like this around this time of year, Chris had lightheartedly told you before.

Move-in day for the local university brought a lot of traffic offences, and RPD usually outsourced some of these to S.T.A.R.S; rush week brought about a lot of nuisance complaints, frat parties obviously needed to be broken up from time to time-- things that the RPD were meant to do, but their hands got so full that S.T.A.R.S ended up stepping in where need-be.

But what worried you was, as weeks passed by with this uptick in missions, Rebecca was starting to seem so tired. Like she wasn't sleeping properly, and she was stiff and jerky in her movements.

Like she was sore. like she overexerted herself, and you asked her about it. She gave you the same bright, cheery smile as always-- and just said she was training harder than usual.

You didn't have the heart to go any further with it, just telling her "...Okay. Just make sure to take care of yourself, and don't push it, okay?", and she'd eagerly nodded, promising you "I will! Don't worry about me."

That didn't help anything, because she seemed to get worse-- during her off day, you bounced on over to the Bravo team's side of the room, and asked one of her teammates "...Hey, have you noticed anything strange with Rebecca recently? Has she been doing okay on missions?"

And Forest, the one you'd approached-- didn't look too worried at all. "Huh? Oh, yeah! She's been doing great! better than usual, actually." You made a questioning little noise, thinking over what that could possibly entail.

"...Has she been doing a lot of overtime, too?" And Forest paused, thinking about it "Uh... Yeah, I think she has."

"And has she told you why she's doing this?" Forest shrugged, giving you a little smile, none the wiser to Rebecca's less than stellar state, no doubt. "I think she wants to get on your team-- I know she's been hitting up the shooting range more than usual. Probably aiming for a different position than medic, 'cause Alpha doesn't really have a need for it."

Okay that... explained a lot, but did nothing to ease your worries. You thanked him, before heading back to your own desk; you made up a plan to confront her on it the next day, but the right chance never presented itself.

The first time you two hung out outside of work, was after she collapsed right before heading off. Just... fell right into yourself arms-- exhaustion and overexertion having taken its toll on her. You hadn't been able to ask her about it, before she keeled over from it.

You bit your tongue, preventing yourself from mumbling a little "i told you to take care of yourself..." but decided against it. And you'd stood there for a little while, just holding her-- then, you shook her awake, gently.

"mm?" She questioned, her eyes fluttering, and you asked "Rebecca, how do you get home? Do you walk or take the bus?" You don't feel good about leaving her on the bus like this-- hell, you don't even know if they run this late, the clock hung on the wall shining proudly, proclaiming it to be 11:07 PM.

But if she walked, you literally wouldn't ever forgive yourself if you made her go through that in a state like this. She mumbled her answer-- Walk.

Goddamnit.

"...I'm gonna have to drive you home, you okay with that?" She huffed, and leaned further into you. "'Kay." It's not like you feel good about this either, per se, it was just the best option at the time.

So, you carefully set her in the passenger seat of your car, buckled her in, shut her door and headed to your own side. You managed to get an address out of her-- a better part of town, thank god, so that made you feel at least a little better.

Through the whole thing, you had to keep yourself from trying to poke and prod about it all. About her pushing herself to her limits-- seemingly to join your team. It made you feel bad, guilty; as if you were the cause behind it.

Realistically, you probably were.

When you got to the quaint little one-story rental Rebecca resided in, you were just as careful to get her out of the care as you had been to get her in.

You helped her along and up to the porch; she took out her keys, but just before inserting them, asked you to stay. That she'd feel more comfortable if you stayed. You got a closer look at her face, under the glow of her automatic porch light, and realized how she was a little... thinner.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna make you some food. That okay?" You tried to frame it as a command at first-- but went back on yourself mere moments later. This was her house after all-- if she didn't want you cooking, then you couldn't do much about it.

She gave you an almost... mischievous little smile before chirping back an "Okay. That's fine by me." Before inserting the key and letting you two in.

You ended up cooking her something simple-- it wasn't a problem of she didn't have the food, that she wasn't eating. She just either forgot to between all the training, or didn't have the energy to make anything. That's okay-- you suppose you understand it, even if it was to such an extreme that you worried deeply for the younger S.T.A.R.S member.

And then, she asked you to stay the night. You two set up camp in the living room, with you on the couch and Rebecca on the trundle-esque pullout below; and watched some late-night TV (namely Murder, She Wrote; which put you right to sleep no matter what). When you two woke up-- you'd been the first to rise.

You were stiff from sleeping in your work clothes; it was off day, thank god, but it wasn't Rebecca's. Despite any apprehension you might have about it, you got up and set yourself to getting a good breakfast ready for her. You let her sleep as long as possible, before nudging her awake, a plate of pancakes in one hand, and some maple syrup in your other; since she had the half-used bottle on her countertop, beside of ready-made pancake mix, your assumed she was pretty fond of the breakfast food.

her eyes lit up, and sprung up to hug you-- the plate almost slipped from your hand, but you managed to narrowly escape tragedy as you readjusted your grip, and hugged her back best you could, with your hands full and all.

You pushed the trundle bed back into the couch while she added syrup to her hearts content, then you two sat down.

Really, you wish you could've just let her eat in peace-- but you had to confront her about the cause behind your impromptu sleepover. You two had a long, productive talk about it; about how she should care for herself more.

It ended in a truce, where she wouldn't do so much overtime or train so much it exhausted her, if you two hung out outside of work hours. Because at the core of it, that's why she'd wanted to get on Alpha. So she could be with you, even on missions.

You thought it was sweet.

And in a way, it was-- but... maybe not as textbook sweet as one would assume. You two were nearly inseparable, joined at the hip less than a month later. You stayed over at each other's places a lot-- and you started to view her as more than a friend, far more like family than anything.

You had silly fights-- bickered over dumb stuff that didn't mean anything in the end, you play fought, you poked fun at each other; really, it was no fault of passerbys to think you two were a pair of siblings; that you were her older sibling as you helped her tie her ice skates before you two went out on the rink.

That wasn't the problem-- you didn't mind it. However, you did start to notice how people seemed to... swerve you two. How you became more and more isolated, little did you know, that was entirely on purpose.

Rebecca cared for you a lot-- cared for you like an older sibling. She just wanted to keep you safe-- can't get hurt if she's the only one you interact with, right?

#yandere resident evil x reader #yandere albert wesker #yandere jill valentine #yandere chris redfield #yandere rebecca chambers #yandere headcanons #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #albert wesker #jill valentine #chris redfield #rebecca chambers #platonic yandere resident evil #resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere resident evil #my writing #requests open #reqs open

121 notes · View notes

rekino2114 · 4 months ago

Text

Cute ways the jjk girls (+ genderbends) use jujutsu in your relationship

A/n:I initially had this ideal with fem!gojo, but then it expanded to other characters. Let me know if you have any ideas for a part 2 or something with other characters

Also I kinda did something similar with fem!inumaki here if you're interested

Fem! Gojo

Lapse blue

Y/n:Hey babe, do you mind grabbing me that glass of water?

Fem!gojo:sure thing sweetie

[She uses blue to make the glass float toward you, but the water splashes on your face]

Y/n:......

Fem!gojo:s-sorry

Infinity

Y/n:Come on, tori, I already told you I'm sorry

[You try to hug her, but infinity stops you]

Y/n:Can you please deactivate your technique?

Fem!gojo:No way! You ate my last mochi. That's basically the same as cheating. I'm not letting you hug me

Y/n:[sighs] I'll buy you some other ones ok? And some more cakes

[Gojo immediately turns off infinity and hugs you]

Fem!gojo:Thanks, y/nnnnn! I knew you loved me

Six eyes

Fem!gojo:Hey y/n, what happened?

Y/n:what do you mean?

Fem!gojo:Your shoulder, it's all hurt and purple

Y/n:.....how did you know? I'm wearing a sweater

Fem!gojo:I have really good eyes remember?

Y/n:oh yeah, I forgot about the six eyes, sorry I got hurt during a mission and just didn't wanna bother you

Fem!gojo:it's never a bother for me, I'll just call shoko and bring you an ice pack

Fem!sukuna

Heian era form

Y/n:Kuna.....is this really necessary?

[It shows you being carried by 2 of sukuna's arms while an other one is stroking your hair]

Fem!sukuna:Of course, are you saying you don't like this?

Y/n:No, I do it's just......why?

Fem!sukuna:uraume said I should try being more affectionate with you. This is how I do it.

Y/n:I guess your arms are pretty comfy

Fem!sukuna:good, I don't want to hear you complain

[She kisses you while you blush harder]

Yuki tsukumo

Star rage

(Tbh I forgot if this is exactly how the technique works)

[You're trying to open a jar, but it's too tight]

Yuki:Do you need some help, baby?

Y/n:Yeah thanks

[You give her the jar, and she opens it without problems]

Yuki:here you go

Y/n:Thanks

Yuki:could I get a kiss for that~?

Y/n:[giggle] sure

[You kiss her cheek, and she smiles brightly]

Yuki[talking to herself] yes! I know using my technique was worth it

Y/n:......what do you mean using your technique?

Yuki:o-oh nothing

Y/n:Wait, did you put mass in the lid so I couldn't open and jar and you'd get a kiss?

Yuki:..........noooooo what are you talking about? Hehe

Y/n:If you wanted a kiss you could have just asked for one you know?

Garuda

Y/n:...........yuki, can you tell your shikigami to stop following me?

Yuki:Why? It's not that bad

Y/n:it wasn't but I think it's taking it a bit too far

[Garuda completely wraps itself around you]

Y/n:see

Yuki:that just means it likes you, just like me

Y/n:....I guess that's nice then, but it's still kinda uncomfortable

Yuki:ok, I'll tell it to stop, we both know you very much prefer my hugs anyway

Yorozu

(I've decided i wanna write for her too, I'll add her to the masterlist now and I chose her instead of mai not only because her creation is better but also just because I kinda like her more)

Creation

Yorozu:y/n! Look what I made for us

[She shows you two rings with your names engraved on them]

Yorozu:it took me a while, but I finally did it! Now we will be bound together even more than we already are

Y/n:Oh thanks, that's so sweet....even if we aren't married yet

Yorozu: Those are just details. What's wrong with thinking ahead

Y/n:hehe, alright

[You start to take the ring with your name on it but she stops you]

Yorozu:Oh no, darling, you'll be wearing the one with my name so that everyone knows you're mine, and I'll wear the other one so that everyone knows I'm yours

Y/n:Oh, that's....sweet

Yorozu:I'm glad you think that, I can't have anyone thinking my darling is free to take, here I'll even put it on you myself

Fem!megumi

Ten shadows:divine dogs (and mahoraga)

Y/n:Please, gumi, I swear I won't ask you anything else ever

Fem!megumi:[sighs] you're really like I love you.....alright

[She does the hand sign and summons the dogs]

Fem!megumi:Go smell y/n and find their hoodie

[The shikigami do what she said and start searching for it]

Y/n:Thanks, you're a lifesaver megumi

Fem!megumi:you're welcome just don't get used to it

[The dogs eventually find the hoodie and give it to you]

Y/n:Oh, thanks so much to you two too. You're such good boys

[You start petting them while megumi gets closer to you]

Fem!megumi:wait minute.....that hoodie isn't it nobara's? Why does it have your smell on it

Y/n:oh no I can explain she just gave-

Fem!megumi:I don't need any explanation. With this treasure I summon

Y/n:wait no stop it!

Fem!geto

Cursed spirit manipulation

Gojo:Hey, geto, what are you waiting for? We're gonna be late for the mission

Fem!geto:don't be so impatient satoru, I'm just waiting for y/n

Gojo:Come on! Your partner can wait, I just wanna get this over with

Fem!geto:if they don't come, I'm not going either

Gojo:fiiiine, you're the only thing that makes missions interesting anyway

[After waiting for a bit geto looks at the sky]

Fem!geto:oh looks like they arrived

Gojo:hm?

[They look up to see you riding rainbow dragon]

Gojo:You made them ride on your curse?

Fem!geto:they were gonna be late and asked me

Gojo:that's so cool you have to make me ride on it too sometimes

Fem!geto:[sighs] I suppose one time is ok

182 notes · View notes

stormz369 · 5 months ago

Text

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 11

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: angst, little to no comfort yet

wc: 2.2k

Chapter Selection

Dick: heeeyyyy Jay?

4:03pm

Dick: … Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay??? Bruce is asking questions about your relationship.

4:45pm

Jason: And I'm ignoring them.

4:56pm

Dick: Well don't! It's important.

4:57pm

Jason: Not possible. It's not his relationship.

5:02pm

Dick: Look, I know you don't like sharing details with us, but Bruce is wondering how serious this is. Like … is she coming to the next Wayne Foundation Gala? Should we expect her at Christmas? Are you gonna tell her about your night job? These are things we kinda need to know

5:10pm

Jason: First of all, I'm not going to the next gala, so why would she? Second, it is way too early in the year to be worrying about Christmas.

5:15pm

Dick: … And the job?

5:25pm

Jason: … When do you tell someone something like that? We've only been together for a few months, but at the same time we've been together for /months/. It simultaneously feels too early and too late…

5:29pm

Dick: Yeah … you're asking the wrong guy, dude. I've only ever dated people “in the business” as it were … Tim might have some insights on that one.

5:31pm

Jason: Yeah, that's not happening.

5:38pm

Dick: Which leads us back to TALK TO BRUCE.

5:40pm

Dick: … DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ON READ YOU LITTLE SHIT!

6:30pm

Bruce: Call me

8:30am

Bruce: Jason, I just have a few questions for you.

9:30am

Bruce: Jason!

10:45am

Jason: Jesus Christ, B! Dick told me about your questions, I don't know what you want me to say! I have no answers for you, ok? This is all new, just let me figure it out!

10:50am

Bruce: As long as you're considering how best to approach the situation. I'm sure you realize you do not want someone else to tell her these things before you have the opportunity to. If you are serious about this relationship, sooner will be better than later.

11:02am

Jason: Believe me, I know. My worst nightmare is her finding out because some asshole tries to kidnap her. I know that us being together puts a target on her back, and if she doesn't know it's there she's at even greater risk. I know all this. It will be handled soon.

11:30am

Bruce: … That sounds pretty final; are you planning on ending things before something goes wrong?

11:41am

Jason: That would be the smart thing. The selfless thing. And I've considered it, I really have. … But I just can't. I don't want to. Can't I have just one good thing? Just this one, and I'll never ask the universe for anything else.

11:50am

Bruce: Jason, of course you can have good things! … But you need to find a way to tell her, before circumstance takes the choice from you.

11:58am

Jason: Working on it

12:04pm

Bruce: Good. We'll see you both at the gala next month then.

12:09pm

Jason: I think the fuck not!

12:10pm

Bruce: It's your turn, you have to come. And if you think that girl doesn't want to be shown off on your arm we'll need to revisit your training, because your observation skills are slipping.

12:15pm

Jason: … This kind of thing is exactly why I didn't want to introduce her to the family.

12:19pm

Bruce: Is it so hard to buy your girl a dress and spin her around the dance floor a few times?

12:30pm

Jason: If any of those socialites flirt with her I won't be held responsible for my actions.

12:33pm

Bruce: You will not threaten, attack, or arrange an attack on anyone at the gala.

12:37pm

Jason: Of course not

12:40pm

Bruce: That includes after they leave, Jason!

12:43pm

Jason: … Damnit.

12:50pm

“Thank god you got the security system in place, huh?” she chuckled a bit mirthlessly as they watched the news. The night before, Jason had installed new security measures around her apartment; better windows with strong locks -and bullet proof glass, but she didn’t know that-, motion detecting cameras on the balcony and front door, and stronger locks on both doors. Perfect timing too, because Bane’s escape from Arkham had just been announced.

Jason pulled her closer, stroking her back, and kissed her forehead. “Not gonna let anything happen to you baby. You just stay inside for a few days, ok?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders; “can’t. Gotta go to work tomorrow…”

“... Please don’t. … Please, I’ll take care of your rent, just don’t go out there until the bats have him back in Arkham.”

She looked up at his face, frowning a bit. “Jay, we can’t let them hold us hostage in our own homes. He could be out for months, it’s happened before. Hell, if he doesn’t do anything immediately and someone else starts making trouble, he could be loose for years before they get around to him. Besides, it’s not like you’re not going to work while he’s out.”

This was it. This was the moment; he was going to tell her. The only reason he was going to work was because his work was putting Bane back in Arkham. Say it. Say it right now. … She needs to know, just say it. This is the moment… Maybe she’ll stay inside if she knows, then she’ll be safe. Say it. …

“... then … let me take you to work? And pick you up at the end of your shift too.”

“... Just for a few days.” She nodded, kissing his cheek.

He sighed, stroking her shoulder, and held her close. … Coward.

A week later they were sitting on the floor in her apartment, legs crossed, knees touching, both wearing short sleeve shirts. Jason's wrists were resting on his knees, so she could see his arms. He refused to look in her eyes; this was too awkward.

The point was to slowly get him acclimated to the idea that she was a safe person to show his scars to. His forearms had some of his less gruesome scars, mostly cuts and a few old burns, and he was already less uncomfortable with her touching him there, so it seemed like the most reasonable place to start. She gently squeezed his hands, looking down at them. Not touching yet, just sitting with the fact that they were there.

“... Can I ask how you got them?”

This was it. This was the moment; he had to tell her now. Tell her. Tell her where they came from. Tell her what you do. Do it. Right now…

“... Um … well, …”

He was trying to find the right words, how to start this conversation. But all she saw was hesitation. So she squeezed his hands, smiling gently; “it's ok if you're not ready.”

It really wasn't. He knew it wasn't; she deserved the truth, she needed the truth, and she needed it soon. But it felt like too big of a thing to just say all of a sudden, and it was so easy to accept the easy out. He squeezed her hands back, smiling weakly.

“... I love you.” Just give him a little longer, he silently begged the universe; he'd tell her soon, just not today. Give him a little longer.

“I love you too, Jay~” God, how he hoped that would still be true when he finally told her…

“What do you think?” She spun on the pedestal, showing off a green dress. Jason and Steph had taken her to get a gown for the gala; Jason would have been happy for it to be just the two of them, but she insisted she needed a girl's opinion too.

Steph grinned. “I love that silhouette on you. … But the color ….” She waved her hand in a ‘so-so’ motion.

“What's wrong with the color?” She frowned, looking down at herself.

“Nothing, you look beautiful.” Jason smiled softly.

“But it'll look like Christmas!” Steph exclaimed.

She tilted her head, frowning. “Christmas?”

Steph nodded emphatically; “Jason only has one tie for these events, and it's red!”

“Oh! Well then I need a red dress!” She grinned, gathering up the skirt and running for the changing room. “I wish you had the tie with you to compare …”

“I can find a picture!” Steph grinned, going through her Waynebook photos.

Jason blinked a bit, not fully sure what was happening. “... Y- … huh? … you wanna wear red?”

She reemerged, grinning; “Of course; I want everyone in that room to know at a glance that I'm your girl~” He blushed bright red, letting her take his hand and pull him toward a selection of red dresses. Steph smirked a bit, following along to help find a few dresses that would match his tie nicely.

She blushed brightly and giggled at the soft groan that emanated from Jason's throat when she came out in a dress with a high slit and off the shoulder sleeves. Steph smirked; “That sounds like a yes to me.”

“Hmm…” She shifted and squirmed a bit in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection. “I dunno about this one…”

Jason stood behind her, offering her his hands. “Why not? You look incredible…”

She blushed more, taking them. They stood in the mirror, him behind her and to the side a bit, her hands resting in his like he was leading her onto the dance floor. “I dunno, … the slit is really high, and the off the shoulder sleeves sit in a way that draws attention to my arm fat…”

Jason frowned, gently squeezing her hands. “And?”

She chuckled a bit, looking at his face in the mirror. “What do you mean ‘and’?”

“You're gorgeous. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise it's because they're jealous of how effortlessly beautiful you are. You're going to be the most stunning girl at that entire stupid gala. Really, getting to see you outshine all those hoity-toity-stick-up-their-ass bitches is going to make it worth going.” The sincerity on his face almost made her believe it. She giggled, turning toward him.

“... I haven't danced since P.E. in middle school…”

“We'll practice. Come on, let's practice.” He gently guided her away from the mirror. He guided her hand to his shoulder, then held his hand by her side, hovering a bit. “Can I touch?”

She nodded, grinning, and his hand finally rested against her side, gently guiding her in a simple waltz. Neither of them was particularly graceful, but Jason had the most basic steps memorized from years of being forced to attend Wayne functions. They stared into each other's eyes, mesmerized by the adoration and security they found in each other.

The trance was broken by Stephanie's coos of; “Aww, you two are adorable~”

Jason cleared his throat, smiling softly. “So … this dress?”

She looked in the mirror again, fanning out the skirt a bit. “... You like it that much?” He nodded, unable to tear his eyes off her, and she grinned. “Ok, this one then.”

Steph spent the next hour helping her find shoes that she'd be able to walk and dance in before they were finally able to check out.

That night at her place, Jason offered her a plate and kissed her cheek. She was, inexplicably, excited about the gala, she had fun picking out a dress, and now he was going to butter her up even further with her favorite dinner. She beamed, leaning into the kiss, and blinked in surprise as he sat behind her, gently pulling her to lean against his chest.

“... Babe?”

He hummed softly. “Yeah?”

“... You're … this is good?”

He nodded, arms wrapped around her waist, and kissed her shoulder. “This is good. Eat up~”

She grinned, trying not to vibrate with excitement, and ate happily. “Mh~ it's perfect~ thank you~”

“Of course~” Everything was falling into place. It had been a perfect day. There was no way she could be angry that he'd kept this from her for so long, right? She'd forgive him. She'd understand, and she'd love him anyway. She would… right?

Although, maybe he shouldn't be sitting so close when he told her. If it scared her, she might think him being behind her was a threat. And with him touching her like this, she was trapped against him. He didn't want her to feel trapped. He needed to find a casual way to let go of her, and get to the other side of the room so she would know she was safe when he told her … but he was so comfortable here … maybe just one more minute like this.

… Besides, it was better not to ruin her dinner. … Actually, maybe he shouldn't do it today. He didn't want her to associate the meal with this news, after all. Plus, they had the gala coming up, if she was upset she'd feel beholden to him, to go together even if she was upset. He didn't want that. No, maybe he should do it after the gala.

… Yeah, after the gala…

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus

#fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd #dc #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #first person pov #wayne family adventures #no use of y/n #multi chapter fic #Can I Get Your Number?

187 notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 4 months ago

Text

The 2016 Blurbs

These are the rest of my writings from 2016. Each blurb is less than 1k words, so I decided to just combine them into one post.

Some of these are angsty, some fluffy, and some just plain silly. There is only one with sexual content and it's in Harry's POV. Please take these for what they are. I do not consider these anywhere close to my best writing lol (though I have always been proud of the Pumpkins & Princesses one).

We're Not Fine based on a prompt, sad, 642 words

You sniffed as you stared up at your ceiling, waiting for Harry to call you back.

For weeks you'd felt like you were drifting apart. You didn't see him as often as you used to, your conversations were cut short, and even his texts seemed vague and uninterested. You'd experienced this kind of behavior before. Eventually the guy would stop communicating with you altogether and you knew it was over. You hoped to hell this wasn't going to happen with Harry.

I think we should talk

That was the text you'd sent him earlier that day.

Okay, he'd texted back. What do you wanna talk about?

He'd waited a while to respond, making you anxious.

I'll call you later. We can talk then.

You'd blown it. You knew it deep down in your soul. You backtracked in your mind trying to recall every little detail, every thing you might have done to make him not want you anymore. Maybe you didn't show him enough that you cared. Or maybe you smothered him. Maybe he wanted space and you hadn't given him enough.

As another tear fell from your eye, you heard your phone ring.

"Hi," you said when you answered it.

"Hey." He didn't really sound excited to talk to you. Just from that one word you got the idea that he wasn't in the mood and wanted to get this, whatever this was, over with.

"What are you doing?" you choked, deciding to make small talk to prolong the inevitable.

"Nothing really. Just ate dinner."

"Oh." You swallowed hard, trying to think of something else to say. "You've been pretty busy, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "And I'll be busy for a while."

You cringed like you'd just been slapped. That was a brush off if you'd ever heard one. You shut your eyes and wiped the tears from your cheeks. Then taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly.

"I miss you," you finally admitted.

Silence. Harry's line was quiet until you heard him sigh. He wasn't going to say it back. The truth hit you in the chest. You began to sob softly.

"We're fine, Harry," you muttered. "Please tell me we're fine."

"We're not fine."

Shit.

"What happened?" you asked.

"Nothing happened," he said, enunciating the word. "It's not one thing."

You took a shaky breath. "What did I do? Tell me."

"Baby..." Harry sighed.

You wanted to scream at him, but you felt like your throat was closing up.

"You didn't do anything," he added.

"Is...is there someone else?" You bit your lip, afraid to hear the answer.

"No."

"Great," you mumbled sarcastically. "Just great."

You almost wished there was someone else. At least you'd have something and someone to blame other than yourself.

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

"I'm just...I'm not good enough for you."

"Baby, no. Please don't think that."

"Stop calling me baby!" you finally managed to yell.

Harry was quiet again for a minute. "I'm trying to tell you it's not your fault. Or anything you did. We've just grown apart."

You tried to hold back the tears that were welling in your eyes, but it was getting more and more difficult.

"Haven't you noticed it too?" Harry added softly. "I know you have."

"I'd hoped I was wrong," you admitted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Yeah...me too."

"I still care a lot about you."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at the ceiling. "Sure."

"I mean it," said Harry. "But...you don't have to believe me."

You laid in silence again until you decided it was time.

"I guess this is it, then. Goodbye, Harry."

"Bye, [Y/N]. I really am sorry."

"Yeah."

Before you could change your mind, you pressed the button to disconnect the call. Dropping the phone next to you, you finally let yourself cry.

Bad Dream sad + fluffy, 859 words

The house was dark. You could barely see two feet in front of you, let alone find your way to the wall to reach the light switch.

"Harry?" you called out, but you got no reply.

You tiptoed slowly until you reached the staircase. Feeling along the wall, you finally found the switch, but no light shown when you flipped it. You cursed under your breath, your heart racing with anxiety. You hated being alone in the dark.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, you felt for the banister, pulling yourself up the first step, then the second and third. It seemed as though the staircase was never ending, but finally you reached the top. This time you knew you had to find some source of light. But as you turned and faced the right side of the landing, you heard a sound.

"Harry?" you called out once more, only this time your voice sounded different - strained and unfamiliar.

Taking a step forward, you heard the sound again. Curiosity and adrenaline fueling you, you began to walk faster, no longer afraid of the darkness. Reaching a door at the end of the hall, your hand found the knob and turned it slowly. You felt like your heart was in your throat, beating so loudly you could barely breathe. Easing the door open however, the sight you saw made your heart drop to the floor.

"Wh-wha-what?" you stammered, unable to get a full sentence out.

You couldn't see the girl he was with, a faceless woman, but it didn't matter. It was another woman nonetheless.

"H-Harry?" you choked.

Turning his body to face you, he gave you a look of contempt.

"Oh. Hey," he said with no feeling whatsoever. His tone was cold as stone. You thought you might throw up.

"What are you doing?" you asked stupidly, knowing exactly the answer to your question.

Harry chuckled, his bare chest shaking. He raised a brow as his hand slid down the back of the faceless woman that clung to him.

"Exactly what it looks like," he replied, not trying to deny a thing. You almost wished he would so you could call him on it.

You felt the bile rise to your throat, swallowing hard to push it down. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, your body shaking with a mixture of sobs and anger.

"You asshole!" you shouted before turning around and running for the stairs.

You half expected him to run after you, but he didn't. Although tears obstructed your vision, you managed to find the staircase. Your body continued to shake as you heard yourself cry out his name.

"Harrryyyyyy!!!"

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, shaking you.

"Baby..." you heard someone say faintly. It sounded really far away. You blinked your eyes open, trying to focus. Where were you?

"Baby, you were dreaming," the voice said louder.

"Harry?" you turned over, grasping at his chest. "Oh my god, Harry!"

Wrapping his arms around you as you cried, he kissed the top of your head.

"Oh love, it's okay," he cooed. "You had a nightmare."

"Please don't leave me," you whined, your body still shaking as you buried your head in his chest.

"What? What are you talking about?"

You continued to sob, thinking about the horrible dream. It had felt so real. How could anything so awful feel so real?

"Please..." you repeated. "I love you so much."

"Oh, baby," Harry murmured, "Look at me."

Swallowing hard, you lifted your head. His handsome face shown only concern, no sign of the hateful look he'd given you in your nightmare. But the memory still shook you to the core.

"I love you, too," he said as he stared into your eyes. "Now what's this all about?"

"I don't know," you sniffed. "I just had the most horrible dream."

"Obviously," he narrowed his eyes, sliding his hands under your ears. He gently wiped away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "Wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head vigorously. "No. It's too unbearable to repeat."

The idea that someone you were madly in love with and who was supposed to love you back could act the complete opposite was the last thing you wanted to experience. Even if it had been just a bad dream, there was no way you think about it again.

Harry nodded, placing a soft kiss on your nose. "Okay. We don't have to relive it."

He kissed your lips then, making you sigh, slowly beginning to feel relaxed.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Water?"

"I just want you to hold me," you muttered.

The corners of his mouth curled up into his signature smile as you felt him pull you closer. "You got it."

Resting your head on his chest, you breathed in his scent, a beautiful calm coming over you. You kissed his skin softly, bringing your hand next to your head.

"It's okay," Harry said again, his fingers raking up your back.

His breath tickled your hair as you listened to his heartbeat, soothing you until you fell into a deep slumber.

What If It Stinks? based on a prompt, super corny, 562 words

You pushed the door to your apartment open with your elbow, juggling bags of groceries. You'd just spent two glorious weeks away with Harry, so you'd stopped at the store on the way home, knowing your refrigerator and cabinets needed restocking. After running a couple errands of his own, Harry was going to meet you at your place for dinner.

Placing the bags on the counter, you began to unload your groceries. Halfway through the second bag, you heard a knock on the door, alerting you of Harry's arrival.

"Hey, don't I know you?" you teased, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.

"I think I've seen you somewhere," he smirked. "Was just a couple hours ago, right?"

Pulling him inside, you shut the door behind him.

"You're just in time to help me put all this away," you said.

"Oh, fun," he remarked sarcastically, following you into the kitchen.

You handed him a bag for him to get started on while you continued unloading the contents of your bag.

"Um...babe?" you heard Harry ask.

You turned to see him standing with the fridge door open, his head dipped to look inside.

"Yeah?" you inquired.

Harry crinkled his nose. "Did you clean this out before you left?"

"Before we left for our trip? I think so. Why?"

Coming to stand next to him, you watched him lift his hand and point. "What's that?"

You felt your stomach churn when you looked at the container. "Oh no," you grimaced.

"What is it?" Harry repeated as you grabbed the aluminum foil covered baking dish and pulled it out, setting it on the counter.

"Salmon," you groaned.

"That's been in there for two weeks?"

You nodded, feeling the color rise to your cheeks. "Damn."

Harry made a noise behind you like he was gagging.

"I guess I forgot," you admitted shyly.

Cringing, you slowly began to lift the aluminum foil before stopping and looking back at Harry. He already had his hands covering his mouth and nose.

"What if it stinks?" you asked.

"Don't worry, it will," he replied, his voice muffled.

You cursed under your breath again as Harry grabbed one of the grocery bags and held it open for you.

"Toss it in here," he told you.

Lifting the foil once more, you ripped it off the dish like a Band Aid. Then as you held your breath, you emptied the soiled fish into the bag.

"Ewwww!" you exclaimed, practically dancing on your tip toes as your flailed your arms.

"That's foul," Harry added, tying the bag closed and dropping it into your trash can. "We can't leave this in here."

"I guess I should take it to the dumpster," you said.

"I'll do it."

You watched as Harry grabbed your trash and headed out the door, a look of disgust on his face. Still completely embarrassed and annoyed with yourself, you got to work scrubbing the baking dish, using more dish soap than would normally be required.

Once it was clean, you started putting the rest of your groceries away, though the stench still lingered in the air. You called yourself every stupid name in the book before Harry returned.

"Ugh," he sounded as she shut the door. "That was awful."

"I'm so sorry," you muttered.

"No worries," he said. "But let's fumigate this place and go out to eat instead."

I Swear I'm Not Scared based on a prompt, fluffy, 649 words

Harry's face seemed to glow in the moonlight as you stood next to him, your fingers intertwined. Although he looked out at the ocean, you couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from him.

You'd been dating for a while, but lately you'd started getting the feeling that things were moving forward, that they were getting serious. Your heart nearly beat out of your chest every time he looked at you. Something was different in his eyes, and you'd begun to wonder if he might be getting to close to saying those three words.

Catching you staring at him out of the corner of his eye, he turned and grinned at you.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice deep and calm.

You shook your head. "Nothing."

"That's your response every time I ask you," he joked. "I reckon you need to come up with something else."

You felt yourself blush, grateful that the night kept it from being obvious. You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"Just like being here with you," you said.

Sliding his hands on your waist, Harry pulled you closer.

"Me too," he whispered before lowering his mouth onto yours.

Just like every kiss before, your stomach flipped and you felt a warm sensation all over. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back hungrily, a spark igniting every time your tongue met his.

When you finally broke from the kiss, Harry's gaze burned into yours, his eyelids heavy.

"[Y/N]," he murmured, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Yes?" you asked breathlessly.

"I..."

Oh God, was he going to say it? You practically held your breath as you waited for him to finish his sentence. You watched him swallow hard before taking a deep breath of his own and letting it out slowly.

"I hope you're feeling what I'm feeling," he finally spoke.

"What are you feeling, Harry?" you blinked.

Harry chuckled nervously, his hands running up your back. The ocean breeze whipped his hair and you lifted a hand to tuck a strand behind his ear.

"I feel myself falling for you, [Y/N]," he admitted softly.

Staring into his eyes, his expression was completely serious now. You knew he was waiting for you to speak, but you weren't sure what to say exactly. You lowered your gaze to the cross laying on his chest, focusing on it before you heard him clear his throat.

"Don't get quiet on me, baby," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Um..." you stammered, your body suddenly shaking. Harry noticed, rubbing your arms when you dropped them.

"You feel it too, don't you?" he inquired softly.

You weren't sure why you were trembling so. It wasn't like you hadn't been thinking the same thing. Of course felt it too. But you'd felt it before, and had gone through enough heartbreak.

"Falling on love is so frightening," you finally muttered, looking down at your hands.

"It can be," Harry stated, sliding his hand under your ear, making you lift your head to look up at him. "But I've been feeling this for a while now. And...I swear, I'm not scared."

Your face lit up at his words. "Really?

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

You bit your lip, gripping the hem of his shirt in your fists. You felt your body relax as you allowed your chest to press against him. His hands cupped your face as he gazed into your eyes.

"Fall with me, love," he pleaded. "I'll catch you."

Sliding your hands up his chest again, you nodded. He pulled you into a deep kiss, his fingers tangled in your hair. You tasted the salt air on his tongue as the tide rolled in, tickling the sand across your toes. It was the perfect moment, the perfect kiss.

When you finally let him go to look at his face, you knew.

"Okay," you whispered.

Cheated angsty + sad (obviously), i believe the prompt was "what a shocker, you have an excuse", 751 words

"You were with someone else that night, weren't you?" you choked.

Harry had seemed distant to you for a while now, and you'd suspected that there had been another woman. One particular evening you had tried calling and texting him, receiving no reply. Even the next day when you'd finally gotten a hold of him, his words were short as though he was trying to hide something. You'd decided to brush it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, especially after he'd told you he just wasn't feeling well and wanted to be alone and catch up on some sleep.

Harry glared at you for a moment before looking at the ground. You knew then that your suspicions had been correct. Still, his next words were harsh and felt like a knife twisting in your heart.

"Yeah," he muttered, "I cheated."

You stood frozen, unable to move. You wondered how you were still breathing. Harry's confession crushed you to the bone. Surely this wasn't happening. It had to be a dream.

You tried to move your lips, to make out a word or two, but you couldn't seem to get out anything past a "wha."

"I'm sorry," Harry finally added. "I didn't mean to."

You raised your eyebrows, finally finding your voice.

"Didn't mean to?"

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Why do people always say that?" you threw up your arms. "Nobody means to cheat. They don't go out thinking 'I'm gonna find some girl to screw, I really feel like cheating tonight.' It doesn't happen like that, Harry."

He stared at you, swallowing hard. "You're right," he nodded. "I'm sorry."

You wanted to tell him to shut up, to scream at him, to tell him to go to hell. But you remained silent for what seemed like eons, watching him pull his hands out of his pockets, run his fingers through his hair, scratch his face, and shove his hands back in his pockets again. He was nervous. As he should be.

"Who is she?" you finally whispered. When he opened his mouth, you lifted a hand. "No. Never mind. I don't wanna know."

Grabbing your bag and swinging it over your shoulder, you mumbled a curse word under your breath as you turned for the door.

"Wait!" Harry called after you. "Where are you going?"

Swinging the door open, you didn't bother to look back.

"Where the fuck do you think I'm going? I'm out of here."

You walked outside toward your car that you'd parked out front. You hadn't realized Harry had followed you until you opened the car door and tossed your bag inside.

"At least hear me out," he said, making you jump.

"Hear you out?" you asked incredulously, turning to face him.

Harry nodded. "Let me explain what hap-"

"Oh what a shocker," you threw up your hands. "You have an excuse."

Harry stared at you again, his mouth a tight line.

"Let's hear it then," you rolled your eyes. "Do tell!"

He dropped his shoulders, his eyes on the ground again. You swallowed back the tears that had begun to rise in your throat, just wanting to get this over with. When Harry stayed silent, you spoke again.

"I'm waiting."

He lifted his head to look at you then, a pathetic plea for sympathy on his face.

"Let's see if I can help you," you began. "You were drunk, she was all over you, giving you attention and you liked it. You succumbed to her advances, even though you were thinking about me the whole time. You regretted it afterwards, wanting so bad to call me and hear my voice, but you felt guilty and afraid."

Harry gazed past you, no longer able to make eye contact.

"Something like that," he muttered.

"Give me a break," you rolled your eyes again.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop!" you shook your head. "Just...stop."

You turned and climbed into the car.

"Baby, I-"

"Bye, Harry," you interrupted, no longer interested anything else that fell from his lips. "Don't call me."

Slamming the door, you turned the key in the ignition. As you drove away, you watched him in your rearview mirror, standing in his front yard. You weren't sure how long he stood there after you turned the corner, nor did you care. You wiped away a single tear that had escaped down your cheek, the only one you were willing to let fall over him.

You've Gone to the Bathroom Fifty Times Today based on a prompt, fluffy, 858 words

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your dress and smoothing out the fabric with your hands.

"You look beautiful," you heard from behind you.

You grinned in the mirror as Harry came up and wrapped his arms around your waist. You lightly brushed the backs of his hands with your fingertips as you leaned into his body. Feeling him hum against your neck, you suddenly felt a twitch. You threaded your fingers through his, pulling his hands away from you.

"Be right back," you said.

"Again?" he frowned, dropping his arms.

"Sorry," you called as you hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

As flushed the toilet, you replayed the scenario in your head. The moment you would tell him. How you would tell him. You'd had it sorted out for the past week. You thought you had it down, that everything would work out smoothly, without a hitch.

Only today you'd started feeling incredibly nervous. You were worried that he'd started to catch on. You'd made so many trips to the bathroom, surely he had to think something was up.

You heard a knock on the door then, making you jump.

"Babe!" Harry called from the other side. "We're gonna be late if we don't leave now."

"Okay!" you answered. "I'm coming."

After you washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, you felt it again. Then you shook your head and opened the door. Harry cocked a brow as he looked at you in question.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you nodded, grabbing your clutch from the bed that matched your shoes. "What time are we supposed to be there?"

"Twenty minutes," he replied.

You sighed, knowing you would probably be at least ten minutes late as it was. All because of you.

"Let's go," you muttered, following him out of the bedroom.

The dinner party was already in full swing when you arrived, just like you'd anticipated. You cursed under your breath as Harry lead you through the doors to the dining room, his hand on the small of your back.

"It's okay," he assured you as he whispered in your ear.

The fortunate thing about your tardiness was that you'd missed cocktails. You had already decided you would politely decline when offered any, but at least now you could just sit down and not have to awkwardly mingle with a glass of water in your hand.

Ten minutes into the meal, however, you stood and excused yourself. This time Harry gave you a quizzical look, but you didn't have time to explain before rushing to the toilet. You did manage to hear him say that you'd been under the weather, no doubt trying to give his own assumption to the other guests.

You hated this. This was supposed to be a wonderful, magical night. It was only a couple hours before you were going to tell him. But you hadn't anticipated feeling like crap.

Finally cleaning up, splashing a bit of cool water on your face, you opened the bathroom door to see Harry leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing out here?" you inquired.

"Checking on you," he said. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving a tight-lipped smile. "Sure."

"You've gone to the bathroom fifty times today."

You chuckled nervously. "Fifty? That's a lot."

"C'mon, love," Harry urged, pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "Just been drinking a lot of water. Makes me have to go."

He stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands. Then he gazed into your eyes, making you melt and breaking your defenses like he was always so good at doing.

"Do you have something to tell me?" he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, looking down at your joined hands. Harry's thumbs ran across your knuckles, silently urging you to speak.

"Wh-what might that be?" you stumbled.

When Harry didn't reply, you lifted your eyes again. His seemed to be twinkling, though his mouth had yet to curve into a smile.

"Baby, are you..."

Though he didn't finish his sentence, you knew precisely what he was asking. You bit your lip as you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes. Harry's face lit up then at the unspoken confirmation.

"You are?" he choked.

Still unable to speak, you nodded silently.

A smile now spreading across his face, Harry cupped yours in his hands before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

"I'm so happy," he half laughed, half cried against your mouth.

This wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, in the middle of the hallway at a dinner party. But seeing him so completely giddy with the knowledge, you couldn't have picked a better time or place.

"Let me hear you say it," he sighed.

"Say it?"

You looked into his eyes again which were now utterly dancing, and you knew what he meant. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his nose.

"I'm pregnant, Harry. I'm having your baby."

Harry giggled with glee before resting his forehead against yours.

"Our baby," he whispered. "You're having our baby."

Shower in Harry's POV, 560 words

I turned on the shower, stepping back to allow the water to heat up and flow freely as I undressed. Every muscle in my body ached from my neck to the balls of my feet. This film was taking a lot of out of me, but I never complained. I knew how lucky I was.

The bathroom filled with steam, clearing my nostrils and fogging up the mirror. Stepping underneath the nearly scalding water, I dropped my head, allowing the stream to hit my shoulder blades. The water immediately darkened beneath my feet, the mud from the day's scene dissolving and running down my back. I felt my muscles loosen, the tightness easing slowly from the water pressure.

I leaned my head back then in order for the shower to wet my hair before turning around and doing the same with my face. Shutting my eyes, I exhaled deeply as the water flowed down my chest. I wasn't sure if I'd ever been so exhausted, even after a day filled with interviews or a concert where I'd deliberately given my all because I'd been under the weather. I felt like I could collapse on my massive hotel bed and not wake up until the morning. And after this shower, I planned to do just that.

Once I was satisfied with the removal of all mud and dirt, I turned around once more, reaching for the shampoo. I washed my hair gingerly, half chuckling to myself that it had been nearly three months and I was still using too much shampoo, temporarily forgetting that I no longer had long curls. After rinsing my hair, I grabbed the soap. That was when I noticed it. My semi-erection. Shit.

It wasn't like I was turned on. A man doesn't really need inspiration to get hard. Sometimes it just happens. I tried to ignore it as I lathered my body with soap, the suds forming on my arms and chest. When my hand slid down to my stomach, however, I saw my dick twitch and felt a burning desire I hadn't been prepared for. Dropping the soap in the dish, I let my right hand roam down and encircle my cock which was now fully erect. My hand slid up and down the shaft a few times as I watched the precum collect at the tip. Biting my lip, my left hand held up the shower wall next to me, the shower stream still beating against my back.

Fuck, I cursed as I began to pump faster, the mix of friction and slipperiness doing me in. My thumb grazed across the head of my cock repeatedly and I heard myself let out a deep groan. My chest rose and fell with each quick breath.

I swallowed hard as I felt myself get close. Then with barely two more jerks of my wrist, I came, a guttural moan escaping my throat.

My mouth fell open as I tried to get my bearings and catch my breath. Then standing up straight, I grabbed the soap once again, finishing the rest of my shower.

When I stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, wrapping a towel around my waist, my eyelids were heavier than ever. Opening the door, I dropped the towel and collapsed onto the bed.

I don't think I'd ever had such a good night's sleep.

Pumpkins & Princesses fluffy, 850 words

Your eyes popped open to near darkness, the only light seeming to come from the hallway, underneath the door. You groaned, rolling over, your hand reaching out but feeling nothing but mattress on Harry's side of the bed.

"Baby?" you called out, your voice groggy from sleep.

When no answer came, you sat up, turning on the bedside lamp. You were indeed alone in your room.

With a confused pout, you tossed the sheets aside, climbing out of bed. Nearing the doorway, you thought you heard voices. Your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door, noticing that the light was coming from your little girl's room.

Stepping into the hallway, you heard a giggle, followed by the sound of Harry's voice.

"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities..."

Stopping in your tracks, you sucked in your lips. Tiptoeing very slowly, you crept to your daughter's bedroom door which was cracked open and peeked inside. Harry was dancing around the room, a stuffed animal in each hand as he sang the song from The Jungle Book. You covered your mouth with your hands to keep from giggling. When he'd finished the song, he knelt down next to the bed.

"Do another one, Daddy," your daughter demanded.

"Alright," said Harry, choosing several more toys and lining them up.

"Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, it's home from work we go..."

Your child continued to giggle as Harry made the dolls bounce on the bed while he sang and whistled. For the last four years watching Harry interact with or show affection to your daughter always lit you up inside. But this...this had to be the best thing you'd ever witnessed.

You continued to stand in the hallway, not wanting to interrupt the father-daughter bond they were having. Harry continued his Disney sing-along with "I Just Can't Wait To Be King", going directly into "Hakuna Matata".

"It means no worries, for the rest of your days..." he sang.

Your daughter was bouncing on her bed, trying her best to sing along. You almost lost it when she mispronounced "philosophy", biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"Alright pumpkin," breathed Harry when the song was finished. "You need to get to sleep now."

"One more, Daddy!" she whined, defiantly lying back in her bed as Harry covered her with the blanket.

"It's late, love," he argued. "Way past your bedtime."

"Pleeeease!" she begged.

Harry sighed. "One more. But it's gonna be a slow one to calm you."

Your child beamed up at her father, the same dimple in her cheek. "Okay."

"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat..." Harry began the first phrase of "Part of Your World".

"Daddy!" your daughter exclaimed.

"What?"

"That's a princess song!"

"So?" Harry shrugged. "I can sing a princess song."

"You're not a princess though," she giggled.

Harry's eyes widened, feigning offense. "Yes I am."

You turned your head, once again trying to keep your composure so they wouldn't find out you were eavesdropping.

Your little girl giggled harder. "I thought I was a princess."

"Okay, then," Harry nodded. "I'm singing a princess song to you."

"Okay," she finally agreed, shutting her eyes.

Harry continued the song, ending after the first chorus.

"I'm not sure I know the rest, pumpkin," he whispered, giving his little girl a kiss on the nose.

"Mummy does," she said.

"Hmm," Harry nodded. "Mummy knows a lot of things."

"Yes," your daughter agreed. "She's a princess too."

Harry chuckled. "That she is."

"She's like Ariel," she added with a yawn. You could tell she was fading.

"Your mum's a mermaid?" Harry raised a brow.

"Uh huh. Like the one on your arm."

"Ah, I see."

"She's magic."

Harry patted your daughter's head, giving her one last kiss on her forehead.

"I'll agree with you there, kid."

When you saw Harry rise from the floor, you quickly ran back to your bedroom. As you crawled back into bed, you realized your cheeks were wet with tears. You swiftly wiped them away with the back of your hand just as Harry emerged from the hallway.

"Hey," he said softly. "What are you doing up?"

You bit your lip, but it was all you could do to keep from crying again.

"Baby..." he cooed, crawling onto the bed next to you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shook your head vigorously. "Nothing's wrong at all. Everything is absolutely perfect."

Harry gazed into your eyes for a moment before pulling you to him in a tight hug. Your head fell on his shoulder as you embraced him.

"I love you so much," you declared in his ear.

"I love you, too," he echoed before pulling back to look at you again. "You sure you're okay?"

A smile spread across your face as you nodded. "Never better."

Harry cupped your face in his hands, giving you a tender kiss. Just as your lips separated, his own grew into a smirk.

"You heard me singing Disney songs, didn't you?"

You giggled, giving him a quick peck. "Yes, I did. And it was the best thing I've ever heard in my life."

The Lilac Jumper fluffy, 833 words

"I'm gonna miss you," you whispered.

"I'll miss you more," he said.

Pulling you into a tight embrace, you inhaled the scent of him as your nose pressed against his sweater. His favorite purple sweater, or as he called it, his lilac jumper. To you it smelled like lavender, though that may have just been a mental association you tied to it because of its shade.

"Please don't forget me," you teased.

"C'mon, love, how could I forget you?" Harry's voice vibrated through his chest.

You raised your head to look up at him, his eyes dancing, his dimple dipped in his cheek. You returned his smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"All those adoring fans," you continued, "how can I compare?"

Harry's smile faded as he took your face in his hands.

"I love you," he said.

Your eyes blinked several times as you stared at him. Harry had yet to declare his love for you, although several times you'd thought he was going to say it, only to be left a bit disappointed when he didn't.

"Wh- really?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Color rose to your cheeks as your smile grew.

"I love you, too," you practically cheered.

Harry lowered his mouth to yours, kissing you passionately. His hands slid to the back of your head, your hair threading through his fingers. His lips were soft, yet firm as he kissed you with fervor. You must have stood there for several minutes until you heard his phone ring in his back pocket.

"Sorry, love," he muttered, separating from your lips. "I have to go."

You felt horrible. It wasn't that time of the month, but you had horrible stomach cramps and a headache that hadn't gone away in two days. You weren't sure if it wasn't something you ate or not. But after throwing up for the third time today, you finally resolved to taking a shower and sipping on a cup of tea.

When you got out of the shower, you returned to the bedroom, feeling a little bit better, knowing you needed to get something in your tummy. Your body shook from the cool temperature in the house, and as you rummaged through your drawers to find something comfortable to put on, you remembered.

With a sigh, you opened your bottom drawer, pulling out Harry's purple sweater. You brought it to your nose, taking a deep sniff. Yep, lavender. You pulled it over your head, shoving your arms through the sleeves, then grabbed a pair of black leggings. Leaving your hair damp, you sauntered into the kitchen to make the tea, then sat on the sofa with your phone.

It was just about time for Harry to FaceTime you.

Sipping on your tea, you grabbed a nearby throw and covered yourself with it. You scrolled through a few emails and instagram pics on your phone until you saw Harry's name commanded the screen, requesting a FaceTime call.

"Hi, baby," you said meagerly.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted, his gorgeous face smiling at you. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," you shrugged, still not feeling a hundred percent. But you didn't want to bother Harry with that. However, you couldn't fool him. He sensed something in your tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you insisted. "Just haven't been feeling that great. But I'll be okay."

Harry raised his brows. "You have a cold?"

"No, stomach bug or something. It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing," he argued. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

You shut your eyes and shook your head. It was so like him to be concerned.

"I'm okay, Harry, really. It's just been a couple days. If it persists, I'll go to the doctor."

"Promise me you will," he said.

You nodded vigorously. "I will. Now tell me about Vancouver."

"Gorgeous here," Harry grinned.

"Yeah? I always wanted to go there."

"I'll bring you here sometime," he offered.

"Is it cold?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Which reminds me, I wanted to ask you... I coulda sworn I packed my lilac jumper. But I can't find it. Did I leave it there?"

"Um..." you sounded, holding out the M.

"What?"

With a sheepish grin, you lowered the blanket covering you, revealing the purple sweater you were currently wearing. Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Are you mad?" you asked him.

"No," he replied. "But why do you have it?"

"I um...I selfishly didn't want you to take it with you," you admitted. "I like it here with me when you're not."

Harry's expression softened. "That's sweet. But why that jumper?"

"Because you were wearing it that day," you explained softly.

"What day?"

"The day you first told me you loved me."

Harry sighed and you could see him sit back in his chair. "I love that. It's wonderful."

You blinked, feeling relief. "So you're not mad."

"Of course not," said Harry. "You should keep it while I'm gone."

"Good," you beamed.

"I love you, [Y/N]," he declared.

"I love you too, Harry."

Seven-Tiered Cake: The Interview written in interview style with Harry and Y/N, fluffy, 948 words

Singer, songwriter, actor, and one-fourth of the pop band One Direction, newlywed Harry Styles and his bride, Hollywood baker [Y/N], sat down to chat with us for a bit. In our exclusive interview, the couple discussed marriage, Monday movie nights, and a seven-tiered wedding cake.

Interviewer: Hi, thanks for coming.

Harry Styles: You're welcome. Thanks for having us.

Int: So let's get right down to it. How long have you two been married now?

HS: [Looks at y/n] A little over...

Y/N: Three months.

HS: Yeah, a little over three months.

Int: And how are you liking it so far?

Y/N: It's great!

HS: Wonderful!

Int: Tell me about the wedding. I know most of the world have seen the loads of pictures, Y/N in your gorgeous gown, that enormous cake. It was all so beautiful.

Y/N: It really was a beautiful wedding.

HS: Nothing compared to her, though [smiles at y/n, squeezes her hand]. She was the most beautiful.

Int: Were you nervous?

HS: No.

Y/N: Oh, I was. I was a mess [laughs].

HS: She didn't show it though.

Y/N: [Looks at Harry] I might've been most nervous about the cake.

Int: Let's talk about that cake. Rumor was that you made it together.

Y/N: We did. It was Harry's idea.

Int: Really?

HS: [Chuckles] Don't make me say it.

Int: Make you say what?

Y/N: You know your fans wanna hear you say it.

HS: I used to be a baker.

Y/N: [Laughs and leans over to kiss Harry on the cheek] They're gonna love you more now.

Int: So tell me about this cake.

Y/N: So, it was one I'd made before, only it was just a four-tiered cake. But Harry had the wild idea to have it be taller for our wedding.

HS: It was seven tiers.

Int: Why seven? Is that a lucky number for you?

Y/N: No. I just refused to make it more than that.

HS: [Laughs] She was chicken.

Y/N: Damn right, I was. It had to be carried in pieces by four people. If once piece fell, it would have been ruined. I just couldn't deal with more than seven. I wanted five. But I compromised.

HS: It made it there safely.

Y/N: Yeah.

Int: So how was it, making it together?

Y/N: [Looks at Harry] That part was fun. We had to make close to a hundred flowers out of fondant.

HS: [Smiles] We managed. We work well together.

Int: I'm picturing a lot of flour on the nose, cake batter on the ceiling, that sort of thing.

HS: [Laughs] It wasn't that messy...was it?

Y/N: I dunno, it was pretty messy. I was cleaning my kitchen for hours after.

HS: But I helped.

Y/N: [Puts hand on Harry's leg] Yes, you did, baby.

Int: You two are so cute. Which leads me to my next topic. You seem to be the quintessential couple to many, but I'm sure you also get some backlash. How do you handle that?

HS: Like with everything, you have to stay grounded. Keep your private life as private as possible. Any other opinions people have, let them have them.

Int: How do you feel, Y/N?

Y/N: I just kind of stay away from the drama. I know it's out there and people are talking, but they're not living my life. I choose to ignore it. They're gonna say what they want anyway. But I'm in this marriage, not them.

HS: I just hope enough people will understand how I feel about her, so eventually they'll feel that way about her too.

Int: What do you think makes a happy marriage?

HS: Um...ask me that in five years [chuckles]. No, really, it hasn't been that long yet. Or long enough for me to be an expert. I just...I just know how I feel. And I know she feels the same.

Y/N: I do.

HS: We like the same things. We want the same things.

Int: Do you want children?

HS: Oh, definitely. It's not something we're focusing on right now, but we definitely want kids someday.

Y/N: Right now we're having fun being kids together [smiles].

Int: What do you guys like to do for fun?

HS: We um...we have movie night.

Y/N: Every Monday.

HS: We decided we needed at least one night a week that was for us. We could always go out if there's a party or event, but with both of our schedules, most of the time weekends are pretty busy.

Y/N: And Mondays usually aren't.

HS: So we decided on having movie night on Mondays.

Int: Have you made every Monday?

HS: [Looks at y/n] I think we might've missed one here or there. If I was in London for something and she didn't come with.

Y/N: Yeah but that's rare. I don't think we've missed many.

Int: Who gets to pick the movie?

HS: [Points to y/n] This one.

Y/N: I do not! Not always.

HS: [Shakes head] Doesn't matter to me. I'm fine with whatever she picks.

Y/N: This is why we get along.

Int: Clearly. So, Harry I hear another film is in the works?

HS: Yeah, but I'm not allowed to talk about it yet.

Y/N: Ooh secrets.

Int: Fair enough. Well, thank you so much for chatting.

HS/Y/N: You're welcome.

Int: Best of luck to you both, and I hope you'll come talk again when the baby bug kicks in.

HS: [Chuckles] Okay, we will.

Thank you to anyone who has ever read any of my silly little fics.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

169 notes · View notes

spaceistheplaceart · 1 year ago

Text

Splatoon AU anyone?

rewatched some HLVRAI and also have been playing a lot of splatoon... so HERE YOU GO ! ! ! more details and some lore under the cut... not too long, I wanna keep some things for future posts ;)

Okay so BASICALLY

Gordon Freshman (wip name lol) is exploring/researching a lost human civilization, one of the last on Earth before all of humanity was wiped out. He finds in one of the buildings various tubes of cryostasis... with a variety of species. Some of the tubes are too frozen over to see inside.

He somehow gets frozen too, and his brain is connected to a virtual network where all the other frozen people reside. The network is pretty nice, but if you ever try to escape, or do something 'wrong', a challenge/test gets thrown at you like in Octo Expansion. Basically, this place is Keeping You Here.

Turns out, Benrey (one of the humans in the colony who froze himself just before the big blast, but the machine malfunctioned and never unfroze him... basically keeping his mind intact, but his body unusable) is the one controlling the place and he's really lonely after... oh... y'know... 10,000 years of isolation... so he's determined to make sure his new friends do not leave.

feel free to ask me anything abt this au ;) ALSO IF ANYONE HAS GOOD NAMES FOR THE CHARS LMK. So far all i got is Gordon Freshman, Bubbles (lol) or Bubbly, and Coomer's name... well... Salmon Names have unusual conventions, but man I'm warring with myself not to call him Doctor Super Punch Out!! For the Nintendo Entertainment System.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatoon 2 #octo expansion #hlvrai #hlvr #benrey #dr coomer #tommy coolatta #au #hlvrai au #splatoon au #op art #salmonid

682 notes · View notes

brucewaynehater101 · 10 months ago

Note

I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.

So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.

Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.

So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.

That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.

Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.

I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.

I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.

I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #young justice #young just us #thank you for the ask!!!!

374 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 5 months ago

Text

This Week in BL - We In A Slump, but help might be coming from a very strange source

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Sept 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - I don’t have a lot to say except that the plot is somewhat predictable but the show is still very engaging. War is fantastic. I’m enjoying it a hell of a lot.

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 10 of 12 - The second leads are getting better in this one. I understand where they are coming from, which makes their conflict so much more understandably painful, and honest to a friends2lovers trope. The main couple is kinda standard college relationship drama, but they are cuties.

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - How is Ohm so damn gorgeous? Meanwhile, babies’ first argument. And it’s sponge bath time. Q has got to be wondering if Min is as meticulous with all kinds of care and attention to detail all......the......time. Somebody here in the hellhole said something about this being "the most BL to ever BL." And I think they’re right. At least right now. Although, watch out, we got us a new contender from the east.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - I do love the continuation of the perversion, in a good way, of the punishment trope from last week's episode. Oh, has the show finally remembered its title? NO SINGING.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 7 of 10 - More kidnapping and an attack and now there’s a girl involved and somebody’s going to China and I don’t understand anything! And I don’t really care. Is this how the actual book originally went? Because it’s wild. Also TOO MANY of flashbacks. I guess they got a bit of a boyfriend era, and the claiming during the water fight was cute, but otherwise...... meh

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 15 - One shouldn’t make comparisons, of course, but all I can think about is how amazing Captain was as Noh in the original series. Thus this show is mostly just making me want to rewatch the original. It’d be an interesting twist to have Aim be queer instead of a damaged cool girl slut. Was the helmet hand letting go a foreshadow of the iconic bookstore hands letting go? Also, I gotta say for the second episode of a series there are already too many flashbacks. Why are they using filler when they have so much content crammed into so few (comparable) episodes for a series? It’s annoying. Stop it.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 4 of 5 - This show has some interesting, if heavy handed, things to say about shipping and trolling, but also predatory/proprietary female behavior. It’s fascinating to see it tackled head on, if handled in a profoundly clumsy manner. I’m not sure how I feel about it. That said, most of this episode was actually an advertisement for a resort in Phuket.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I'm getting What's Wrong with Secretary Kim? vibes from this show. Only this is WAY more bullying. It’s very old-fashioned 90’s billionaire romance novel only gay. It’s never a good sign when I’m watching two boys kiss and I really want one of them to just bite the other ones lip off instead.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - No ep this week.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 8 of 10 - Gosh it’s so frikin adorable. Baby got sick. He has SUCH A CRUSH. And such a courageous little confession! Yay! Can’t wait for next week.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ep 1 - sure, yes this is, in fact, just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again. And yet...... There is a REASON this leapt into the standings guns blazing. So it’s high school set but it's stepbrothers trope. (My, aren’t we popular this year?) I know, but I NEVER get tired of this trope. We got us Bach (BV's sullen tsundere) and Dat (babygirl meets bully). It’s GREAT how the brothers' dynamic is entirely different at school than when they're at home. My ear isn’t trained for Vietnamese, but I think Dat is using different pronouns depending on his location (his personality entirely shifts when he’s at school). I’m not sold on the Bach character, although I always trust BV to serve in the end (at least we know the kisses will be good), but Dat is utterly in love, a touch spicy, and reasonably complex. The surrounding cast is good too, my favorite pretty boy is there playing top dog (woof), and one of the besties is out gay (YAY!). The plot of the show is...... well...... absent. Nothing happened. But if we are aiming for Love Sick slice of life style BL, I'm game. Subs are appropriately terrible and confusing. But I like it A FUCK TON so far, so I’m gonna keep it in rotation. Nice to have Vietnam back in play. What a shocker.

2024 has been a year of upsets.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 3 of 10 eps - I weirdly enjoyed the farcical music and the utter absurdity of the court case. I also liked how it highlighted what a good team these two are. Frankly I don’t mind a bit of an antihero sleazy lawyer + conman, it's engaging. I’m getting wholesome out of Thailand. I don’t really need it from Japan at the moment. Also I don’t believe for one second our conman actually is serious about the relationship. Conmen gonna con. I'm reminded of the scorpion and the frog fable.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 8 of 12 - I love Orca so much. I do not love the autotuned version of Orca, but I knew what I was in for with this particular show, it's in the title after all. I did laugh a whole lot when Laing used kha. Hon, I don't think that word means what you think it means......

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 11-12fin - I never thought I’d say this, but the pacing was off in the penultimate episode. Taiwan, and its chronic misuse of flashbacks strikes again. That said we eventually got a "lock in" trope and Wang being the biggest little flirt shit in the cafe OMG!!! Of course, you shouldn’t use a girl to torment your bf, but it was so well done, I can’t really complain. Meanwhile, teacher kisses. And now I understand exactly why they’re present in this narrative. Clever. Bummer of a burden on that ending though. I cannot see how they’ll manage to stick this landing. [That was ep 11]

AND NOW EP 12 - doomey doomey doom

Not the water bottle trope! Argh the teenage lust of it all. Just stop it. Wang is so smart he knows exactly how bad he has to be to leave the class. And his bf certainly knows that too. And......

......

So that was not an ending and I’m not happy about it and no one is surprised. Even I’m not surprised. I’m just disappointed. Even tho I suspected this was where we were headed I'm disappointed. That’s it. That’s all I got. How do I review something that was such a crushing let down?

Conclusion:

Based on a Mou Mou novel + the Your Name Engraved Herein team, this is old-school coming of age BL and it was bloody fantastic. Tsundere seme to beat all tsundere (smartest + tallest + bestest at everything but people) meets socially-ept cutie smart-ass uke. They're living together by end of ep 1 and start kissing by end of ep 2. A stellar tense slow burn stepbrothers trope that ate my life and than just belly-flopped the finale. What I'm left with is epic levels of disappointment and well...... at least nobody died? My standard "fatally flawed" rating for any BL is 4/10 so I guess that’s what I’m giving it.

Before you ask me for the stats: Taiwan does not have a history of second seasons. I went ahead and ran the numbers and the odds are certainly not in our favor. I put the chances at 2%.

Yes, I contemplated a revenge rating of 2/10 but even I'm not that mean.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.