#the post lunch break outfit questioning

[leslie057]

this really is what i feel like when i wear a blazer to work and my hair is even slightly curly

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[gargoy-ross]

The Vees with a s/o that likes to crochet + how they'd react if you gift them a plush of you two holding hands

First time posting on Tumblr, I know these are probably ooc. Gn reader, a bit suggestive on Val's. That's all, enjoy :)

Vox

Vox doesn't really understand your hobby, but hey, whatever makes you happy. Besides, he loves it when you run to him all giddy and exited to show off your latest creation. He'll let you sit on his lap while you crochet and he works. Just make sure your yarn doesn't get tangled up in the wires...

Giving him the plush

Keeping the gift as a surprise was hard, this man has cameras everywhere, but somehow you managed. And you're quite proud of yourself for that too. Now you're sitting in his office, waiting for him to get back from the meeting. You glance at the clock - it should end right about now.

As if on cue, Vox opens the door and as it slams shut you hear the most tired and annoyed sigh from him.

"Bad time?" You ask.

He shakes his head at the question. "Just a shitty meeting," He practically falls into his chair, "and an even shittier day."

He raises his brows and the annoyance is gone in an instant. "What's that for, doll?"

"I made this. For you." You smile awkwardly as you pass the box to him.

Vox carefully lifts the lid and takes the plush out. He examines it as if he wasn't quite sure what it was. The expression on his screen is unreadable, and his voice quieter than usual.

"You made this? You made... us?"

You nod and Vox's expression softens. He has already forgotten the stress from earlier.

"It's adorable. Thanks doll."

He smiles. Not the business man smile or the TV host smile, a genuine smile.

Valentino

Val thinks it's a waste of time. Why would you sit there, making stupid knots instead of, I don't know, spending time with him?! But, like Vox, if it makes you happy, he'll tolerate it.

Giving him the plush

You decide to present him with the plush one night after he's done with filming. So there you sit, on the couch in one of the backrooms in his studio, nervously fiddling with the gift. When Valentino steps in to the room he's surprised to see you. You don't usually spend time at the studio.

He's voice is ever so sultry when he addresses you. "Well hello sweetheart. Didn't know you were waiting for me." He then notices what your holding and snatches the plush from your hands, a teasing smile on he's face as he toys with it. "Oh my, what's this darling?"

You stand up. He cocks his head, making sure to hold the plush out of your reach.

"It's a gift. I though I'd be nice to give you something."

He's grin widens and he lifts your chin up with one of his hands. "Not exactly my style of a toy, but thank you sweetheart."

Velvet

Velvet would most be the most tolerant towards your yarn hording habits. She doesn't mind, as long as you keep your stuff separate from hers. If you have the talent, she might design accessories which she'll ask you to crochet for her. And, if you agree to it, she will make you a Sinstagram to show off all your creations.

Giving her the plush

Velvet is on her break when you decide visit her studio to give her the gift. You've put the plush in a gift bag hoping it wouldn't raise questions from her employees. While you don't think they'd make fun of you, you know how important the public appearances of you two were for Velvet.

It doesn't take long for you to find her, scrolling on her phone as she picks at her lunch. "I didn't know you were stopping by babe."

"I figured you'd be on your break about now." You say, handing her the bag. "This is for you."

She wastes no time taking the plush out. "Aww, you made us hold hands. It's adorable." She turns it around in her hands examining all the little details you've made. "You even got my outfit on point." She then leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad you liked it."

She has to soon get back to work, her collections need to be perfect for the next show, so you bid your goodbyes. Later that day you get a notification from your Sinstagram that you've been tagged on a post. You can't help but smile when you see the photo Velvet had posted to show off the plush.

[marinawolf]

Lena has her theories. Like a good scientist, she devises “scientific” experiments to collect data…it’s just convenient this is more exhilarating than outright asking the question to the appropriate person: is Kara Danvers a boob or an ass girl?

Let it be known, this popped into my mind because of your reblog of Supergirl daydreaming about Lena in the throes of passion (likely by Kara’s own doing 😉💋)

okay first, we have to admit that the creator of that post blessed us all. second, this was hilarious to write. I had so much fun. here you go:

It's for Science (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

Lena Luthor, the scientific genius and CEO of L-Corp and Catco, found herself embroiled in a daring experiment. The subject? Her best friend and secret crush, Kara Danvers. Lena was determined to discover one crucial piece of information: was Kara a boob or an ass girl?

Of course, Lena couldn't just outright ask Kara about her preferences. No, that would be far too direct and potentially awkward. Instead, she decided to employ her scientific mind to devise a series of "experiments" to collect data and draw her conclusions.

It all started innocently enough. Lena strategically chose her outfits, opting for outfits that accentuated her assets. She made sure to occasionally drop something in front of Kara, bending down slowly to retrieve the item. Lena even went so far as to discreetly unbutton the top of her shirt, providing a subtle glimpse of cleavage whenever she was around Kara. For science, of course.

But Kara, being Kara, was oblivious to Lena's attempts. Lena had, however, garnered the attention of many others in her office, who were captivated by her attempts, much to her dismay. However, Lena was determined to provoke a reaction from her friend, and she wasn't about to give up.

One day, during a lunch break at CatCo, Lena brought in an array of donuts. She strategically placed a tray of donuts right in front of Kara, leaning over Kara's desk, giving her a full view down her unbuttoned shirt. Lena's heart raced as she watched Kara's eyes widen with delight at the sight of the delicious treats.

Lena waited with bated breath, hoping for a telling reaction.

To Lena's dismay, Kara simply reached for a chocolate-covered donut without a second thought. Lena tried to hide her disappointment.

Later, at the DEO, after Lena had "dropped" her pen in front of Kara, Alex sidled up to her, sipping a coffee.

"Why are you bending down like a stripper in front of my sister? That's like the third time tonight."

Lena flushed her mind suddenly unable to formulate an explanation.

"Don't worry," Alex continued, laughing, "She notices. The first time, she actually walked into a glass wall. Luckily it was reinforced, so it didn't shatter"

Lena's heart leapt but still, she wasn't convinced. She hadn't seen Kara react at all, and as a scientist, she needed to see her results first hand to believe it.

But she refused to give up. She couldn't let a few failed experiments deter her from her quest for knowledge. It was for science, and she was committed to science.

It was during a cozy movie night at Lena's penthouse that she decided to execute her most daring experiment yet. As they settled onto the couch, Lena discreetly unbuttoned her shirt, exposing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. She observed Kara out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her reaction without being too obvious.

To her delight, Lena noticed Kara stealing glances her way throughout the movie. The sight of Kara's eyes lingering on her filled Lena's heart with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Perhaps her experiment was indeed yielding results.

As the movie progressed, Lena's heart raced, waiting for the perfect opportunity to reveal itself. She couldn't concentrate on the film, her mind consumed by the thrilling prospect of finally getting an answer to her burning question.

Just when Lena thought she couldn't wait any longer, Kara's hand brushed against hers in the darkness of the room. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through Lena's veins, and she turned to look at Kara, their eyes locking in an intense gaze.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kara leaned in and pressed her lips against Lena's, kissing her with a desperate longing that took Lena by surprise. The intensity of the moment left them breathless as they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I've been dying to do that all week," Kara admitted, her voice filled with a mix of desire and relief.

Lena's heart fluttered, her experiment having unexpectedly led her to this extraordinary outcome.

But still, she didn't know: Was Kara a boob or an ass girl?

--

Months later, as Lena lay in bed, her arms wrapped around a sleepy Kara, she finally asked the question.

And Kara's response made her heart flutter.

"I'm a you girl."

[komohine]

hello oh my gyad you’re my favourite artist EVER. I love the warm tones of your drawings and the way you draw keith and james is so so pretty (you have 100% converted me to be a jaither) like seriously keith is gorgeous and the outfits you draw him in are ethereal. I have many questions ive been brewing for a little bit and you don’t have to answer all of them but feel free idunoo👍👍👍

1. in the college au, does keith have his cheek scar? if so, how did he get it?

2. what is james’ and keith’s favourite thing to do with each other in free time? in every and any au you have

3. how does wearing clothes bode for james in the android au? does every tiny string get caught between the metal or does he just not wear a shirt half the time? or the third more sinister option, fabric just doesn’t catch in the plating at all

4. what colour are keith’s eyes.

5. does james play any sports/instruments like every freakish extracurricular absent parent having kid ever?

6. thoughts on the keith neurodivergent headcannon?

7. would james ever introduce keith to his family? or is he no contact/they wouldn’t care?

8. do you headcanon keith with any galra features? if so, what are they?

9. favourite food and colour headcanons for the both of them?

10. do you think keith would have any piercings?

+ a singular drawing request, soggy keith (thankyu for reading c:)

Hello i love you guys take notes from this anon please ask more questions like this i wish tumblr allowed me to answer a question more than once but PLEASE ASK HUGE QUESTIONS LIKE THIS I LOVE YAPPING ‼️😄 I LOVE YAPPING ‼️😄

Also THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMEBTS HEEHEE 🙏 i try my very best to deliver fire content 🫡 which is why i havent posted a finished piece in a while… im cooking… 😈 also its way too late for me rn to get out of bed and draw so i will reblog this with soggy keith… sometime later…

Beware a huge freaking wall of text… but id appreciate it so much if anyone reads and responds to my headcanons and adds on 😄

1) TW: ASSAULT. i was debating this, and i think yes but its much smaller than the one he has in canon. He gets it in roughly the same way, an altercation with kuron (evil shiro, except kuron is just a major asshole who isn’t related to shiro but tries to take his place through manipulation. Keith (and everyone except james actually) fell for it). Keith eventually confronted kuron outside a bar after repeated attempts to get closer with keith during their night out and kuron got pissed and pulled a knife. Fortunately keith is also an mma legend and wiped kurons ass but he got a pretty bad cut on his cheek. James made sure everyone knew about what kuron did (james is hella connected because of his parents wealth and also bcs he was trained for a while to inherit his parents company. Also, James is an incredibly smooth talker and can convince anyone of anything. So kuron pretty much has zero chance at a job in the future cause he got blacklisted from everywhere lol). This is me painting sheith as the weird freaky violently uncomfortable shit it actually is lol 😄

2) canon compliant: literally anything that isn’t high risk and stressful. Cooking, reading, sitting on the couch watching bad horror movies and shouting out plot predictions and then laughing when they’re right. Because theyve had too much drama in their life. They really appreciate the times when they can wind down. Playing fetch with kosmo is also fun, because yk teleporting wolf, so they need to get creative to get kosmo to exercise.

College AU: similar, chill things. But because of james’ absolutely insane schedule and keith’s investigative work about his father’s unusual death, they don’t really get much time together outside of studying together, lunch dates (james always makes time for lunch. Well he tries, but he has notoriously bad scheduling luck so he’ll end up with back to back classes from 8 am to 9 pm, no lunch break, or random 2 hour gaps where he needs to go off campus to a diff location for his next class so he cant acc spend those 2 hours relaxing its just him fighting downtown phoenix traffic), etc. but they’re both pretty outdoorsy, so both him and keith like going camping when they can. Its a nice break for the both of them. Also james made keith run a marathon with him once. Keith barely survived, snd slept for 18 hours after, but it was fun! In return keith dragged james to his mma gym and tried to get him to do a kick (because james is one hell of a sprinter. He has sprinter legs. That should theoretically translate super well into an insanely strong kick) but james was too nervous. every time he stepped in the ring he’d just stand there awkwardly and not move. He did send one of those punching bags flying with a kick though after he worked up the confidence (keith was right!)

Android au: uhhh kind of not applicable i fear. I cannot say why. But sometimes james lets keith clean his gun. When things get rough, he’ll let keith fix him up if there’s anything broken.

3) lowkey the sinister third option. Maybe they have some special super tightly knit fabric that’s impossible to catch on things. But also, the androids are designed pretty well, and are surprisingly devoid of super snaggy edges

4) violet. In human au, black, but im a firm believer of him having dark eyes that shine a dusty violet when the light hits them just right

5) canon compliant: TRUMPET AHHAH HES A TRUMPET PRODIGY no actually it makes me a little mad just how good he probably is at trumpet. Like gorgeous, bright tone. Huge dynamic range and lung capacity. Im so mad. Probably also piano. And fencing. He is also extremely good at sabre fencing. And i was saving this hc for later but wtv ill just repeat it: james was the one who taught keith how to wield a sword because i refuse to believe keith picked up his bayard and it formed into a sword just because. No man, its because james would beg keith to practice fencing with him and keith would finally relent and james would teach him pretty much all he knows. And keith remembered those lessons.

College au: track and field. Specifically, sprinting. James is acc so good at sprinting that he went to the olympics twice and won silver in the 200m the first time, and gold in the 100m the second time (lets pretend youssef flash (usain bolt counterpart) stayed home that year for whatever reason). And also ballroom dancing! Like waltzes and shit. Hes such a loser. And probably piano and trumpet too but they’re not so important lore wise.

6) YEEESSSS i also believe in james being neurodivergent in some way. No neurotypical man likes finance that much (my personal headcanon. Also in college au he does high level 1000 page math workbooks for fun.)

7) canon compliant: i havent thought that much abt james’ family in the canon universe. Tbh theyre probably all dead (hence why he reacted so harshly to hunk in that one scene) by the time he and keith get together officially so there’s not much he can do. He’d take keith to his sisters grave just to tell her the news (his older sister was the only person in his family of like 7 that gave a fuck abt him). During their garrison days, he probably never mentioned keith as a way of protecting him from his family.

College au: yes! He tried! Unfortunately his homophobic republican christian parents did not appreciate it. James really introduced keith as a last olive branch because he was alr so close to cutting them off, but their reactions were so bad he lost his temper in public (never before seen) and stormed out halfway through their planned lunch dragging keith by the wrist. And then he cut them off.

8) me personally no. If im being so fr every time i see galra feature Keith it always comes across as infantilizing in some way? 😭 like “ooo kitty ear keith!” somehow you are infantilizing both asians AND a completely made up race guys. The only real feature is maybe his funny coloured eyes? But galra eyes are yellow so uhhh… but i think internally there’s a lot more galra presentation. Like his heat/sickness tolerance, sleep cycle, endurance, etc.

9) i havent really thought of this, i have colours I personally associate with them but hmmm. (Canon compliant, but probably applies to all of my aus) Keith’s favourite colour? I dont think he would really have one specific one but he might list off some colour combos he thinks looks nice. Like red and black. Hes also not super picky, but he really misses his dad’s halo halo. James is too depressed to have a favourite colour. And he likes anything that is a painful experience while consuming. Like very strong and bitter black coffee, straight everclear, your most acrid cigarettes. Because he hates himself.

10) in my college au he has a snake bite! Only one though, on his right (our left) side. Also he has his lobes pierced. I dont think he’d have anything in canon compliant, just bcs his hair is already pushing the garrison guidelines and i dont think they’d let him pierce anything. Maybe earlobes, but thats it. Same goes for android au.

[iheartjeremygilbert]

The ultimate school guide

────୨ৎ────

with the new school year beginning in less than a month, everyone needs to start preparing. so I present to you ‘The Ultimate School Guide’. a guide to steer you to the difficult challenges of the upcoming school year.

I have divided this post in a couple categories to make it easier to understand.

supplies ᯓᡣ𐭩

I have created a list of things you need:

school bag

notebooks

books

pencil case

planner

emergency kit

water

lunch

binders

rulers

pencil case

pens

pencils

three highlighters (one for things you understand, one for things you understand a little bit but need a little more help with and one for things you don’t understand)

eraser

tipex

calculator

tabs

sticky notes

sharpener

emergency kit

pads/tampons

hair ties/hair clips

hairbrush

lipgloss/lipbalm

bandaids

mints/gum

deodorant

extra underwear

wipes

any time of pills you might need

hand sanitizer

Things to do before the beginning of the school year˖࿐

2 weeks before school starts

deep clean and organize your room. and I mean everything. from your closet, to your school cabinet organize everything.

shop for back to school clothes

1 week before

finish school supplies shopping

plan your daily schedules

do your laundry

pick your ‘first day of school’ outfit

the night before

pack your lunch

set out outfit

pack bag

set an alarm

take a shower

the morning before/the first day

eat a good breakfast (breakfast is the most important meal of the day)

take first day pics

don’t forget to do your little first day tik tok transitions

try to memorize your schedule

study tips ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I have gathered some study tips that actually help:

before you even start, make a list in the order of things you’re to do/topics you’re going to study. then you will be organized and won’t be stressed on what to study first

learn things your way. I know there is like millions of study methods that claim to work, but you do you

actually try to understand things and don’t just memorize them. keep information in your long term memory by actually understanding them

reward yourself. let your brain correlate rewards with studying, that’ll motivate you to study even more. these rewards can be of different values depending on the difficulty of the task

study 30-40 minutes and then take a 5-15 minute break. it’s scientifically proven that the human brain gets tired when overworked for over 40 minutes. but if you feel like you can’t reach the 30-40 minute mark, stop and take a break but after that get back on your feet and work harder

put your phone away. don’t just put it in arms reach. put it in another room so you it won’t distract you

school tips ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

deep clean. every sunday clean your school bag and at the end of every month deep clean everything

sunday is the day you get ready for monday

write important dates somewhere. this is where the planner comes in handy

do your homework/assignments the day they’re given

when homework is assigned write down the date that’s assigned and the due date

pay attention in class and ask questions

get a calendar. it will help you keep track of everything. you can also put sticky notes on the important dates

join clubs. I’m not kidding when I say half the friends I’ve made the last school year I meet in clubs.

personalize your notebooks/binders with stickers

routines જ⁀➴

school day morning routine

wake up early. you’ll have plenty of time to get ready. set up a song you like as an alarm. also set two alarms (one five minutes after the other) incase you don’t wake up the first time

make your bed. then you won’t want to crawl back into it

go to the bathroom. brush your teeth, do your skincare, take a shower if you need to etc.

make yourself a little drink. make yourself coffee, tea, matcha etc.

start getting ready. get dressed and don’t forget to accessorize, do your make up and do your hair

breakfast! the most important meal of the day, it should be simple but filling.

pack your waterbottle and lunch. you should pack your bag the night before but your water and lunch in the morning

and out the door you go

school evening routine

wash your hands. first thing when you get home wash your hands because you’ve touched things, throughout the day, that very probably aren’t clean

hydrate. drink water

unpack. unpack your pencil case and the homework you were assigned that day and set them aside.

change. change from your outside clothes to inside clothes. something more comfortable

snack and drink. make a snack and a drink for studying

studying and homework. get your snack and drink, your pencil case and homework then I recommend studying for an hour. you can work 25 minutes, take a 10 minute break, study again 25 minutes. it’s all about balance

relax. after that take 1-2 hours to relax. read, watch a tv show, text your friends etc.

gather your supplies. pack your bag before dinner time. refill your waterbottle and put it in the fridge

dinner time!

extra homework. if you didn’t finish your homework before take the time to do it now

no phone. stop scrolling on social media about 2-3 hours before going to bed. take this time to do things you like

sleep tight!

character inspo ༄˖°:･

in this little section, I’m writing about characters you can take inspiration to be like, for the school year. this contains: Elena Gilbert, Bella Swan, Spencer Hastings, Hermione Granger and Rory Gilmore.

Elena Gilbert: the vampire’s girlfriend

dress more like a 2010s’ vibe. Henley tops, tank tops with lace, flared jeans, your vampire boyfriend’s jacket, converse, boots, a lot of accessories etc.

get a diary. Elena narrates her life through her diary and writes her days there

bag. Elena wears a one shoulder minimalist brown bag to school

be confident. Elena is like always confident and doing what she wants, not letting anyone stop her

wear minimal make up. we can see that Elena doesn’t go to school with a full face of makeup. so just a little concealer to hide your dark circles that were formed for staying up all night with your vampire boyfriend, a little lipgloss or lipbalm and mascara

hair. wear it straight and down. Elena puts her hair in a ponytail to get it out of her face and curls it for events

your place. have like a coffee shop or a grill (like the mystic grill) where you go with your friends to meet up. become a regular there

always happy. Elena always finds the good in everything, so do the same

Bella Swan: the vampire’s lover

read!! Bella is always reading. it’s like a form of escapism for her

music. she always has her headphones with her

minimal make up. Bella is like the mysterious girl that doesn’t wear makeup and is different

be different. instead of always wanting to stay with thr popular group she’d rather read a book. so do things you want not what others want

dress more like a 2010s’ vibe. same as Elena’s style but make it a little bit darker. dark colored henley tops, flared jeans, your vampire boyfriend’s jackets, converse.

hair. Bella’s hair is sometimes middle parted, sometimes side parted and sometimes she just wears a headband

personality and habits. Bella is curios but clumsy, she is an introvert with a habit of biting her bottom lip

everyday actions. do well in school and be helpful around the house (Bella is always helping her dad around the house with chores)

Spencer Hastings: the academic weapon

dress classy and old money style. Spencer is wealthy so she dresses the part. with her plaid skirts, sweaters, jewelry and her hairstyles she manages to wow Rosewood

study study study. Spencer is so intelligent because she loves to read and to actually understand school material.

sports and clubs. between studying and fighting for her life because of A, Spencer overworks herself with field hockey and debate club

hair. Spencer straightens her hair with a curling iron and curls it at the bottom. she also just straightens her hair fully sometimes. she puts it in a ponytail when she is working on an elaborate plan to catch A

be smart and act smart. Spencer always has a witty response to everything.

Hermione Granger: the brightest witch of her age

hair. Hermione’s hair is wild and free, she doesn’t straighten it but puts braids on it

smartness. we understand that her character is all about wit. she knows her stuff because she actually learns and understands it

clothes. sweaters, jeans, a good pair of sneakers, t-shirts and nice dresses for events is what Hermione’s wardrobe consists of

don’t let people put you down

advocate for justice! Hermione makes an organization for the lives of elfs. you can join different organizations to help people

be mature. act your age and not like a child

respect rules…but don’t be afraid to bend them

do what is right not what makes you popular

Rory Glimore: Star Hollow’s favorite girl

(this about season 1-2 Rory)

hair. Rory sometimes curls her hair but most of the time it’s straight. and she styles it with all kinds braids

clothes. since Rory and Lorelai share a closet their styles get mixed. Rory mostly wears earthy tones, sweaters, long sleeves, flared jeans are a must and she accessorizes.

take a book with you everywhere

have goals. like actual achievable goals

make lists. wether they’re pro and con list or a list of stuff she needs to finish, Rory always writes down her thoughts

personality. she is genuine and kind, but doesn’t let herself become a doormat. she doesn’t care about popularity or drama

school life. finish your homework on Fridays, pay attention, understand things rather than memorizing it etc.

cherish relationships. go to your grandparents once a week, gossip with your mom, go out with your friends etc.

paint your toenails red

have movie nights

go to events. every time your town might have an event, goo!!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ♡ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Tysm for reading

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ♡ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hello I saw your post about super villain y/n can I request about the supervillains fighting over who kidnappes reporter yuu today when villain y/n just swoops in dragging yuu away while grim taunts the villains idk

It's been a long time since I wrote for that Au...! Thank you for requesting it! A HUGE shout-out to @britishassistant because it's their Au and it's one of my favorites!

-

[Yuu has no date life]

Based on the imagine above!

-

-

Knocking on the door to the apartment. You impatiently tap the heel of your shoe, holding the box of mini cakes and red roses.

"J-just a second (Y/N)!" Yuu called out behind the door, a bit of whisper-shouting and shuffles being heard after.

The well-known reporter had asked your civilian self on a date, so you decided, "Why not?" The two of you planning to meet at their home and make the date as you go.

Here you were, standing outside, waiting, and feeling like a fool. The sky had just turned into a warm sunset color, and you could have sworn your pretty bouquet of roses was starting to droop.

Leaning against the door, you stare down at your nice attire for the evening.

"So... While we wait, uh.. Talk to me about your day?" Yuu's voice was heard once again through the door. You perk up slightly, smiling happily, recalling the odd events happening during the day.

-

You weren't one for fashion, but you wanted to look nice. It wasn't every day you went out with someone as famous and cute as Yuu Radcliffe.

Your villain suit was on the board list of what you could wear... But you chuck the idea away, deciding to head into the city and find something nice.

Browsing through the clothing rack of a store more expensive than the machinery you made for evil schemes, you pause when noticing a tall lean figure a few steps away from you.

'Oh shit, they look so cool..'

Trying to be as chill and not creepy as possible, you go over to them.

"Hi.. I.. Like your clothes, where'd you get them?"

The person turns around, a pair of black sunglasses and a hat adoring their figure.

"Custom made, designed by me."

"Wow really?!" You get closer to them, looking over them once more and showering them with compliments by the second!

They smile at your fluttering, enjoying the way they were given attention without the need of even knowing his true identity.

"Hey, can I ask a personal question?"

"You may..."

"(Y/N) that's my name, but... Does this suit or dress look better?" You ask, holding up the two sets of clothing shyly.

Your clothing rack buddy lowers their shades and shoots you a look.

"Neither, dear apple."

You soon find yourself modeling with your new found clothing rack buddy. With him mostly choosing outfits that would suit you nicely.

Even paying for your outfit and deciding what cosmetics you should apply, he even gave you his number!

-

You smile at the warm air surrounding you when you step inside the bakery. Breathing in the intoxicating scent of bread or cake. Walking up to the counter, your grin becomes bigger towards Trey. Whose family owned the tasty establishment, but from the small conversations they've had with each other. Trey had somewhat of a second job like you, yet you doubt he knew that you were a villain for fun.

"Hey Trey, mind if I order a small box of mini cakes?"

"Your lucky I got these out of the oven," he replied with a soft laugh. Heading behind the counter to the kitchen.

"(Y/N), it's good to see you." A voice states behind you, turning around, you stare down at the well-off pharmacist. "Dr. Riddle! It's good to see you too, you' on a lunch break?" You ask, noticing his face become a lighter shade of pink on his pale skin.

"Ah, yes actually. How can anyone resist Clover Bakery," Riddle joked. Causing you to let out a small chuckle.

Trey comes back with the box of mini cakes and tells you your total, handing you a receipt once you finished paying. Waving goodbye as you and Riddle step out of the way for the next person in line.

"I didn't know you liked Trey's mini cakes as much as (favorite food)." The red-headed stated quizzically when noticing the small box in your hand, along with a few bags of items you had possibly bought during the day.

"They're not for me, I'm meeting someone today, thought I would surprise them... Ya'know?"

Riddle frowns at the idea of you hanging out with someone other than him, but he controls himself. Wishing you a pleasant evening and a promise of the two of you heading to the city gardens for tea and tarts.

-

Hearing full-on arguing and yelling, the door busts open as The Royal Flush and King were seen holding onto Yuu's arms while Charon and Leviathan were looking around the simple apartment.

Poison Queen scowled at the attire the reporter was wearing as Snake Charmer and Tsunotaro noticed you.

Tsunotaro strides up to you, his presence more domineering than the other villians.

"What makes you think yous earned a place to even be in the reporters' presence?" He hissed darkly, raising your chin to stare at him instead of Yuu.

"I.. I wanna to get to know them, that's how things like that work. Sure maybe I'm not "worthy", but I'd like to try."

You state plainly, shrugging your shoulders. Having known Tsunotaro when you were in costume, so you weren't that scared by him.

The villain hummed, letting go of your skin, "I see."

Gazing back at your roses, you came up with a idea.

You out one rose towards Tsunotaro, who looked shocked at your gesture you grin sheepishly.

Heading to the other quiet super-villians. You hand them all roses, saving at least two for Yuu and leaning one on the counter for Yuuken.

"Is it cool with ya'll for me to steal Yuu for a date?"

They all look at each other, then back at you. Letting go of Yuu as they stumble next to you.

"When I come back. All of you. Please leave my house."

-

{Ta-da! I hope you enjoyed! I'll be writing a bit more twst again so get ready! For my batman fans, I got something amazing for yall too!}

[babe-a-tron-queenthousand]

🔎Detective Headcanons Dump☕️

(+ board thing)

as stated on various pinterest icons and in the wiki, it’s conflicted on her name. for a while she was thought to be called sarah, but the drone that’s actually sarah is the one that said “mr doorman, there’s been an incident.” however, she’s still referred to as sarah. there’s so many conflicts. but as a compromise, i’ve been calling her sara. (little secret- it’s a name i no longer go by. the sarah/sara beef is REAL. that H has caused a massive divide in the sara/sarah world.) (no joke i actually had a HUGE rivalry with a “sara” until i realized i was nonbinary and changed my name LMAO)

-and yes, she has beef. (maybe a bit of homoerotic tension.) (QPR.) (if a rivalry lasts a long time you are no longer rivals you are gay. /ref)

-as mentioned in the other post: there’s other name options too.

A) she purposely never tells anyone her name unless they are closer friends, as she’s a very down-to-business woman. “My name’s not important right now, but this case is. Now back the hell off, this is a crime scene.”

B) her peers purposely never name her correctly and call her something different every time. plot twist- they never even asked for it, and it kinda drives her insane. “Mary, you seen my lunch?” “Any notes, Sara?” “Lissa went missing at that crime scene.” “Shirley’s on her lunch break right now.” she enjoys people trying to guess her name. they’ve probably gotten it right once or twice, but she won’t tell them. >:-)

C) or they just call her “detective”, but this plays into option A a lot.

D) like B, different name each time. but she’s the one who tells people a different name, instead of them trying to guess. at this point she’s collecting names like pokemon.

-“mister doorman, there’s been an incident🤓”. she thinks sarah’s dorkiness is adorable. the two are quite close. maybe a QPR.

-she’s an arospec lesbian (i’m not just projecting here, i came up with this headcanon before i realized i was aro lol)

“do we even have fingerprints?”

-despite it being her job, the reason that she asks this question is because of different models. the drones we see on screen have the little dents in their fingers, but it’s possible that other models don’t or have different shapes.

-in my head-canon, gasoline is the drone equivalent to coffee or energy drinks. don’t talk to her until she’s had her gasoline. i have a whole list of headcanons for different machine fluids (grease, antifreeze, coolant, etc) i have more headcanons for those, but i’ll probably post them later.

-from what we can gather of her personality, she’s very blunt, sarcastic, and gets annoyed quite easily but doesn’t make much fuss. something will bother her but she’ll still keep a level head.

-also, think khan’s demeanor in the brief scenes we saw him in episode 7. “Part 2A, check the perimeter”. straight to business, doesn’t fuck around

-if she hadn’t been killed by eldritch J, she’d probably have a crush on J and get along quite well due to similar personality.

-outside of her WDF uniform coat, she probably wears lots of muted/navy blues, greys, and browns. her style is usually an oversized flannel shirt, button-ups, or aviator jacket. maybe a sweater similar to the teacher’s. it depends on the day. i’ve gathered some outfits from pinterest as a rough idea.

-she’s really into yoga and similar workouts along that vein. she played tennis in high school.

-her ideal date night is a night in on the couch, binge watching crime documentaries and/or thrillers. (though she prefers not to date.)

-she’s well-respected within the WDF. got on a winning streak at cards.

-she often gets quite bored at her job, usually because there is nothing to do. she saw the disassembly drones getting into the colony as a good thing solely because it gave her something to do versus waiting around all day for something to happen.

-her music taste is mostly classic rock. guns n roses, queen, van halen, bon jovi, nirvana, kiss, black sabbath, pink floyd, AC/DC, rolling stones, etc

-here’s a miscellaneous mood board that i threw together with things i think are fitting for her

[chenziee]

Hopeless

No I don't keep forgetting to post these, whatever do you mean?

This is the first of the five pieces I did for @truffyfest! This one is for @nimudae's adorable prompt #164:

Law tells Onigiri all about his crush on Luffy and Onigiri decides he's going to be the best wingdog a pet can be and get them together

Don't forget to check out the full free Truffy fest zine!

[ Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

----------

It wouldn't be an overstatement to say Onigiri knew everything about Law. He knew what time Law woke up, so he knew exactly when to start stepping impatiently next to his bed, begging for his walk. He knew what time he came back from school, so he knew when to start barking at his food bowl, asking for lunch. Not only was Onigiri observant and a great listener, patiently letting Law rant and ramble on and on about his day, school, music, his friends, and his annoying uncle Doffy… he was also neither blind nor stupid.

And so when Law had sat him down one evening, looking all nervous and jittery as he started explaining how he recently realised his feelings for one of his classmates might not be as platonic as he thought, Onigiri wasn’t surprised.

Instead, it left him flabbergasted that it took Law until now to figure that out.

After all, Law was nothing if not completely obvious when it came to Monkey D. Luffy—or Straw Hat-ya. Honestly, what did Law think the cute nicknames were about? Why did he think he ended up blushing whenever Luffy would tell him how cool his outfit for the day was? Why he kept texting him until the wee hours of the morning after promising Cora-san he’d go to sleep early this time every single day? Or why he made Onigiri’s walks longer than necessary every time just so they could pass by the convenience store where Luffy was part-timing? Or—

Onigiri might not have been stupid but sometimes… Sometimes, he had to wonder whether his master was.

As Law babbled on and on about how pointless things like love were (they were not), how senseless falling for ‘that absolute idiot of all people’ was (look who’s talking), and how there was no way Straw Hat-ya even felt the same way (he didn’t even have words for that one), Onigiri came to a decision. 

Seeing how completely hopeless Law was, someone else was going to have to take charge.

Onigiri didn’t have any matchmaking experience—if you didn’t count those two cats he purposely chased onto the same tree last month—but he’d be damned if he had to listen to this love-sick mess of a word-vomit more than once.

----------

Onigiri got to work the very same day. It wasn’t hard dragging Law to Luffy’s neighbourhood since Law always gravitated there without seemingly even thinking about it; the hard part was getting this idiot to actually meet Luffy while there, not just steal glances while he led Onigiri around the grocery store three times. But Onigiri was nothing if not resourceful.

And by that he meant he sat by the door to the store and barked until Luffy noticed them.

“What are you doing?” Law hissed quietly, sounding nearly panicked when Luffy looked their way. 

Onigiri simply barked again. Just because he could.

Immediately, the other boy perked up, his usual bright grin spreading on his lips easily as he jumped away from the register, completely abandoning the place—as well as the customer he was in the middle of ringing up—to skip over to them.

“Onigiri! Torao! You’re walking here again? Isn’t it kinda far from your place? Hey, Onigiri, how are you?” Luffy fired one question after the other as he crouched down to scratch Onigiri’s chin.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Law asked, keeping his voice level while he raised his eyebrow, scolding Luffy. Acting all cool while his gay little heart was undoubtedly racing his chest with happiness. Onigiri almost rolled his eyes at him.

But, Luffy laughed, seemingly finding Law’s fake confidence hilarious. “Eh, it’s fine~” he drew out, looking up at Law with a carefree smile. “I’ve been working for hours, I can take a break once in a while!”

“And how many breaks have you taken so far?” Law asked, unimpressed, before pausing and adding, “And how many snacks have you eaten without paying for them?”

“Hey! I do pay for them!” Luffy protested, a pout finding its way to his lips.

“With your treasure tab?” There was an undeniable hint of laughter in Law’s voice now. “You do know that’s gonna go straight from your paycheck, right?”

“It’s my money anyway,” Luffy grumbled, turning back to Onigiri. He cupped his face in both hands, his pout getting even bigger. “Onigiri, daddy’s being mean to me, tell him something.”

Onigiri blinked. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or upset he couldn’t laugh because if he could… he would be rolling on the floor right then. Luffy said that. Luffy really said that. He really called Law ‘daddy’ without thinking twice about it and that was the best thing that had happened in Onigiri’s life since Cora brought him those turkey treats on Tuesday.

“Daddy?” Law repeated in a broken voice so quiet and so mortified that it made Onigiri want to laugh all over again—he didn’t even have to look at him to know Law was beet red.

“Yeah? You’re Onigiri’s dad, after all.” Luffy tilted his head to the side as he spoke slowly, obviously completely clueless as to why Law reacted like that.

Onigiri really loved this idiot.

Jumping up a little, Onigiri quickly licked Luffy’s face to show his appreciation of his adorable  naivety. Or well, he wasn’t naive; Luffy absolutely knew what ‘daddy’ meant in context… but seeing as he never bothered to think before opening his mouth and even then not really thinking about what just came out of it and thus completely missing his own accidental innuendos…

And poor Law was usually on the receiving end of these too.

On second thought, was it really completely on accident or just subconscious flirting?

Who knew? What Onigiri did know was that these two needed to kiss already.

“Hey, kid! Can you actually do your job here?!” the completely forgotten customer called from inside the store, understandably completely annoyed. Somehow, it was a wonder he wasn’t yelling and demanding to see a manager…

But there were more important things happening here, okay?

Still, Onigiri took a step back from Luffy, barking once as he returned to Law’s side while the two humans said their own goodbyes, the both of them lingering for a few moments too long to be considered normal and Onigiri shook his little head.

Hopeless idiots, the both of them.

It might have been Friday afternoon… but they would hold hands by the week’s end if Onigiri had anything to say about it.

----------

The next order of business was to actually get them together. That was considerably harder than simply forcing them to meet but Onigiri did have a plan.

Like every Saturday, Law took Onigiri to the large park to play. And like every Saturday, they passed by the cinema right next to it. Onigiri couldn’t exactly read but he knew that whatever posters were hanging in the front, those movies were still playing. Quickly scanning the pictures one by one, Onigiri huffed in satisfaction when he found the one he was looking for. It was still up. Good. That concluded stage one of his plan.

Stage two—make sure Luffy was where he was supposed to be.

It was a warm, sunny day and Luffy hated staying indoors to begin with so Onigiri was pretty sure he would be hanging out at the park as well. He usually did on days like this; it was the most nature in the city and Luffy loved the place about as much as Onigiri and Law did, so unless he forgot he had a family trip planned—wouldn’t be the first time—chances were high he would be there somewhere. But the problem was actually finding him without making Law suspicious.

Being a dog came in handy in situations like this, however. Asking to play fetch as an excuse to wander, using his sensitive nose to sniff out the distinctive smell of meat mixed with the sun and Luffy’s own scent. Onigiri had no idea how Luffy managed to smell that way all the time, but he wasn’t exactly complaining—not when after minutes of searching, he finally caught the trail of said distinctive scent.

Onigiri grabbed the ball and took off—fetching it… but not for Law. Instead, he ran in the opposite direction, letting his nose guide him until Luffy came to view. He was sitting on a picnic blanket, waving his hands around animatedly as he talked to his friends, a ginger-haired girl and a green-haired boy. Onigiri was pretty sure their names were Namu and Zori but Law hardly spoke about anyone outside his own friend circle aside from Luffy so he wasn’t entirely positive.

But this wasn’t about them.

Onigiri ran up to Luffy, barking happily around the ball in his mouth to catch his attention.

“Onigiri!” Luffy called when he noticed him, a wide grin appearing on his face as he reached out with one hand to gesture for the small dog to come closer.

Onigiri easily complied—after all, that was the whole point of him coming—before he dropped the ball into Luffy’s lap.

“Where’s Torao?” Luffy asked then. He was turning every which way, searching the park for Onigiri’s owner like an idiot with a crush. Which was exactly what he was.

“Aw, this is Torao’s dog? How cute!” the girl cooed, her voice full of excitement and adoration. As it should be; Onigiri was adorable and he knew it, thank you very much.

“Yeah!” Luffy said proudly. “Nami, Zoro, this is Onigiri. Say hi, Onigiri!”

Ah. So those were their names. Close enough.

Barking in greeting, Onigiri sniffed the both of them, remembering their scents—sweat and steel for Zoro and for Nami, tangerines and… money? Why did everyone in Luffy’s group smell so weird? It was a mystery.

No point dwelling on it, Onigiri thought. It was time to proceed to stage three of the Grand Plan.

Onigiri turned back to Luffy, nudging the ball in his lap with nose, wagging his tail and barking excitedly to manipula— prompt Luffy into tossing it for him.

Luffy laughed, rubbing Onigiri’s head. “You want me to toss it for you, do you?” he asked teasingly, waving the ball in front of Onigiri’s face.

The dog barked again, getting impatient; what was Luffy playing at? It was only a matter of time before Law found them, there wasn’t time.

“Okay okay!” Luffy finally stood up, tossing the ball in his hand a few times as an evil smile appeared on his lips and he took a stance, getting ready to throw the ball as far as he could.

Just as well, Onigiri thought. The further the better.

The moment the ball left Luffy’s hand, Onigiri took off, chasing after it… but the ball wasn’t his goal. Instead, he sprinted right past it, running at full speed with purpose. Soon, he passed through the park’s gate and crossed the street—only after the light turned green, of course—rushing to his destination; he ignored the startled cries of the people he passed, not slowing down until he reached the cinema. He quickly grabbed what he came for before turning around and sprinting back the way he came.

He was completely out of breath when he finally made it back to where Luffy and his friends were sitting. He wasn’t surprised to see Law already there, looking close to a mental breakdown at having lost sight of his beloved dog while Luffy tried his best to comfort and reassure him—at least that was what it looked like but it was hard to tell when Law was just looking more and more frustrated while on the other hand, Luffy seemed to be struggling to hold back carefree laughter.

“Onigiri! You little shit, where did you go?!” Law asked angrily when he noticed the dog running over.

Ignoring his master for now, Onigiri went straight to Luffy, dropping the item he had brought in front of him before flopping to the ground with exhaustion, panting loudly. Man, why was he so tired? The cinema was so close… He supposed it was the adrenalin of racing with time, trying to get back before Law found them…

“Hm? What’s this?” Luffy asked with confusion, picking up the cinema’s programme pamphlet.

Stage three—complete.

Onigiri sighed deeply. It was going well… so far. The rest really mostly depended on at least one of them not being a complete idiot.

Which was, admittedly, a difficult hurdle to overcome.

“This movie… Where did I see this?” Luffy wondered out loud, his face scrunched up into a deep frown as he studied the picture of an animated superhero, his robot side-kick, and pet seagull. Onigiri was honestly surprised there wasn’t steam rising from his head with how hard he was thinking.

What did he say about someone needing to not be stupid?

Maybe he should just give up if they were both going to be like this…

“Hey, isn’t that the seagull that Torao wears on his bag?” Nami asked, pointing at the bird in the corner and in that moment, she looked like a goddess in Onigiri’s eyes.

Luffy’s eyes lit up in recognition at her words. “Oh! This is ‘Sora, Warrior of the Sea’?! You never showed me what it looked like but Toaro, isn’t this your favourite manga?! Have you seen this movie yet?!” he asked, turning to look at Law with something akin to stars in his eyes.

Oh, thank god.

Onigiri barely finished the thought when a tell-tale click came from behind him. Did he really—

Whipping his head around, Onigiri glared at Law. He was kneeling behind him with Onigiri’s leash in hand as if to incriminate himself of his crime and Onigiri bared his teeth at him.

“Don’t you growl at me, you brat. I’m not the one who ran off to fuck knows where!” Law snapped, tugging at the leash for good measure to remind the dog his movements were now severely limited. As if he were a dumb hamster who couldn’t find his way back once he left his cage.

Rude.

And here Onigiri was, working his ass off and doing Law’s damn job for him.

“Torao!” Luffy called impatiently.

“What?” Law hissed, tearing his eyes away from Onigiri to shoot a dirty look at Luffy. Onigiri almost felt bad for causing Luffy to take collateral damage…

Luffy didn’t seem phased, however, only showing Law the pamphlet where his favourite hero of all time stood proudly, pointing at it eagerly. “Have you seen this movie?!”

Law was quiet for a too-long moment, seemingly weighing his options before he opened his mouth to slowly reply, “I haven’t.”

If Onigiri could, he would have raised his eyebrows at Law because really? Did he not want to admit he had seen the movie four times already so he didn’t seem like the complete nerd he was? How ridiculous—as if Luffy didn’t know he was a hopeless Sora fanboy already. 

But actually… this played right into Onigiri’s paws.

“Oh! Wanna go see it?” Luffy asked, blinking up at Law with his big, innocent eyes.

Onigiri was pretty sure the strangled squeak he heard was Law going through some kind of gay panic at the sight. “Why would I want to—”

“Ehh?” Luffy drew out, a small pout on his lips as he tilted his head to the side to stare up at Law—only worsening the trembles in Law’s little heart. “But you like this! Come see it with me, come on!”

“Don’t go saying stupid shit, you sound like you’re asking me on a—”

“On a… what?” Luffy asked with a confused frown when Law didn’t finish his sentence.

Idiots…

“Idiots,” Nami sighed as she face palmed, perfectly mirroring Onigiri’s thoughts. A kindred soul, sharing Onigiri’s suffering.

“They’re both completely hopeless,” Zoro added.

Before either Law or Luffy could say anything, Nami punched his shoulder instead. “You have no right to talk,” she hissed. “Do you know how hard me and Robin worked to force you and Sanji to stop dancing around each other like a couple of morons?”

“Shut up! Who asked you to do that anyway?!” Zoro protested as he slapped her hand away.

“It was painful to watch!”

As the two continued to bicker, Luffy simply shrugged and shook his head, seemingly used to it, before he turned back to Law. “So about the movie…”

“What about it?” Law asked quietly, defensively, as his eyes turned away. Probably unable to keep looking at Luffy’s face without agreeing to anything that came out of his mouth.

Onigiri sighed. That was it for stage four, he supposed. Time for stage four-point-five.

Before Law could react and pull on his leash to stop him, Onigiri jumped to his feet and took off; he circled around Luffy sitting on the blanket, then back around Law, only to then dash forward at full speed, tugging on his leash until he heard the surprised yelps and fumbling as Law stumbled forward and towards Luffy from where the leash tangled around his knees.

“What the fuck is this, 101 Dalmatians?!” Law groaned, sounding torn between angry and painfully embarrassed while Luffy just laughed, catching Law to make sure he didn’t trip over him and break his neck.

Onigiri barked once, looking Law straight in the eyes when he slowly walked back to the two of them, sitting right in front of the cinema pamphlet that fell out of Luffy’s hand in their tumbling.

“I think the dog is trying to tell you two something,” Zoro said with a raised eyebrow, his fight with Nami forgotten.

“You fucking think?” Law asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Just go see the stupid movie, what’s the harm?” Nami joined in, sounding about as tired of their shit as Onigiri felt.

“It’s not stupid, it’s great!” Law snapped immediately.

“Oh, so you have seen it,” the girl said, an evil smirk on her lips as she teased Law without mercy.

Onigiri barked in a canine version of a laugh; he really liked this girl.

“I guess it’s decided then!” Luffy announced with a happy grin. “The programme said there’s a showing in an hour, let’s go!”

Law visibly froze, looking between Onigiri and Luffy like a deer in headlights as he tried to process what was happening. “Are you actually serious?”

“Yes.”

“Bark!”

“Are you stupid? I can’t go anywhere, I have Onigiri with me—”

“We’ll watch him, just go have fun,” Nami interrupted him and, as if to prove her point, she got up on her knees, carefully picking Onigiri up and unhooking his leash to free the two boys of its hold. Once done, she pried it out of Law’s hands before clasping it back to Onigiri’s collar. Finally, she sat back down on the picnic blanket, placing Onigiri in her lap and scratching him behind the ears.

Onigiri didn’t fight the temptation to lean into her touch, her slightly longer, perfectly manicured nails feeling like heaven in his fur.

“See? We’re all good,” she said happily… but Onigiri couldn’t help but feel like there was a hint of a threat in her voice.

“How much are you going to charge me for this?” Law asked, even though he sounded resigned to his fate at this point.

Nami smiled in response… and even Onigiri felt a chill run down his spine.

“Oh, I won’t charge anything. As long as you have fun. Got it?”

“Yessir!” Luffy cried, completely terrified. As if he could imagine exactly what would happen to him if he didn’t listen to her.

And just like that, both Law and Luffy were basically chased away, leaving Onigiri behind with Nami and Zoro, and thus ending stage four-point-five.

Now… with stage five commencing…

They could only hope for the best.

“You have it hard, man,” Zoro said once the two of them were completely out of sight, throwing Onigiri a sympathetic look.

Nami hummed in agreement. “If they don’t come out of the cinema holding hands, I swear I’m charging them by the minute of that stupid movie. And then we’re locking them in Mihawk’s hearse until they figure it out.”

“Hey!” Zoro cried. “Use your sister’s goddamned truck, you want me to get killed?!”

“Oh please, the worst Mihawk would do to you is refuse to drive you anywhere,” Nami noted with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, and then I would have to ask Perona to drive me and that is a death sentence!”

“Don’t be a baby,” Nami said flatly. “If you could walk in a straight line without getting lost, you wouldn’t have to rely on your family or Sanji to chaperone you everywhere. And also—” she paused, her eyes narrowing dangerously— “you still owe me money for the restaurant reservations for yours and Sanji’s date last month so don’t try to get out of this.”

“I paid you back, you witch!” Zoro cried.

Nami huffed, waving her hand dismissively, “Ever heard of interest?”

“You’re impossible. Why do I suffer you?” the boy groaned, rubbing at his forehead.

Nami huffed as she tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “Because I’m so cute!”

“Compared to what, a trash can?”

Somehow, Onigiri wasn’t even surprised when Nami’s fist flew forward to punch Zoro full force in the shoulder, her teeth bared as wrath radiated off of her. 

Ah.

Now Onigiri could see why Luffy jumped to attention the very second he felt the slightest hint of hostility from her. This girl was terrifying.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Onigiri. Did the stupid swordsman scare you?” Nami cooed at him, when she noticed how he crouched and huddled into her lap to protect himself.

“Pretty sure he’s scared of you,” Zoro muttered quietly.

Nami took a deep breath, only shooting Zoro a dirty look to which the man simply raised his arms in surrender. Apparently satisfied, Nami turned back to Onigiri. “Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I am forcing Torao and Luffy to buy you as many tasty treats as you want for doing their damn job for them.”

----------

As Onigiri laid on his bed at home a week later, chewing on a fresh, tasty bone that Luffy had brought him when he came over to see his boyfriend— much to Cora’s delight and Doffy’s amusement—he couldn’t help but thank Nami in his mind for keeping her word. He didn’t remember ever getting this many treats, not even from Cora when Law wasn’t looking.

He supposed with this…

He could declare stage five concluded, and his Grand Plan a raging success.

Whatever would these hopeless humans do without him?

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

The Betrayer | Chapter Eight: Where We Begin

Oh, you were in for it now.

Pairing: Albert Wesker/F!Reader, Chris Redfield/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Violence, Blood, Minor Character Death

Notes: Hey guys! I know it's been a full month since I last posted. The holidays were very busy, and I spent the last two weeks trying to write this chapter. It was initially going to be a really massive one (I'm talking roughly 20k words), but I decided to split it in half because it was just taking too long to write it. Also, university starts up again next week for me, so it might be a struggle to finish the second half as soon as I'd like. This just felt like a better option, and I really like how this chapter ends anyway, so I'm happy with it! Hope y'all don't mind having two chapters of flashbacks because I felt it was important to set up Lucky's history in S.T.A.R.S. to drive home just how hard Wesker's betrayal really was for her. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

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March 15, 1996; R.P.D.

It was a slow day at the station, something you always hated. 

Three of your coworkers in the east office were out with the flu, including your partner, Kevin. That left you trapped at your desk, filling out report after boring report while you waited around, almost hoping for some kind of incident so you could get out onto the street.

No such luck.

Instead, Arthur sidled up to you as you hunched over your paperwork, the officer looking sheepish when you glanced his way. “Hey, would you be a lifesaver and take these reports to the west office? I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I’m already gonna be late as is.”

You groaned as you stretched back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you took in the massive stack of papers in his hands. “Seriously, man?”

He gave you a hopeful smile. “Please? I swear I’ll pay you back.”

You looked down at your desk, considering your own pile of paperwork, and sighed. You did want a break. This was a great chance to stretch your legs.

“Fine, but you owe me a sandwich from Grill 13 for lunch tomorrow, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood and begrudgingly took the sizable stack from Arthur’s arms, holding it to your chest as you bid him goodbye and headed for the opposite side of the building. 

You stopped at the ramp that led to the west office entrance, deciding you were going to take the opportunity to make a detour instead of going straight there, the paperwork in your grasp the perfect excuse in case someone asked what you were doing. 

Maybe now you could finally check out the new S.T.A.R.S. office upstairs.

Construction had been ongoing for the last few weeks to outfit the room with whatever the new special forces team needed. It was once the station’s gym, but no one was really upset when they discovered it would be moved to a larger space. In fact, many officers (including yourself) had been complaining for years that the gym was far too small for the ever-growing police department.

From those you knew that snuck a peek of the new and improved room, they had built a private office, set up an entire wall of radio equipment, and–what you were most intrigued by–created their own armory. 

You made it to the hallway where the office in question was located, meandering down past the locker rooms. You glanced at the vending machines against the wall, wondering idly if you should grab a snack after this little adventure was over.

You reached the door, peering down both ends of the corridor to make sure the coast was clear before you opened it and walked inside. 

You weren’t sure what you expected. It looked exactly like you had been told it did.

The dispatch console was massive and pretty high-tech, though you supposed that would have to be the case for a special tactics force. 

As you swept your gaze over the room, you found yourself to be a little jealous of the computer monitors that sat on every desk, wishing you could type up your reports instead of cramping your fingers with handwriting.

You then laid your eyes on the armory, which was completely empty. You could only imagine the kind of weapons that would be stored there once the team had actually been formed.

Once satisfied with your snooping in the main room, you approached the private office, thinking back to what you learned about the recently instated captain.

Wesker, you believed his name was. 

He was new to the R.P.D., which shocked everyone when he was picked before Marini to be given charge over S.T.A.R.S. 

Gossip claimed that he was a tall, menacing-looking man, his eyes always hidden behind his sunglasses. He never smiled–or so you heard–and spoke with a very snide and commanding voice.

“Maybe he’s a lizard man,” David said as the two of you and Rita chatted in the break room. “They say higher-ups usually are.”

You and Rita shared an amused look at your coworker’s words, who always seemed to have a conspiracy for everything.

“I feel like he’d have to be a little higher up than that for the lizard people to believe it was worth the trouble, dontcha think?” you questioned with a laugh.

“Maybe Irons is the real lizard man,” Rita joked, whispering behind her hand. 

“I’m just saying, the guy seems a little suspicious,” David replied, defensive.

You snorted. “You say that about everyone, Ford.” 

You honestly felt sorry for the guy, considering he hadn’t even officially started working here yet, and already the rumor mill was turning. He probably had to walk a very thin line to maintain respect. 

You were well aware that some of your fellow officers would take the first opportunity to try and knock down any new hires a peg, like some kind of frat hazing.

Bunch of dogs. 

You rolled your eyes at the thought as you sat in the large, plush chair behind the captain’s desk, placing the stack of papers upon the wooden surface rather haphazardly. 

Must be a lot of responsibility to be captain, you mused, kicking your feet up on the desk and leaning back. But man, the perks of getting this chair alone are worth it.

You knew you should get back on task, but it was difficult to push yourself out of the comfortable position.

“I could get used to this,” you said aloud to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment, relaxed.

“I see someone’s made herself at home.” 

You gasped at the deep voice that penetrated through your daydreaming, throwing your legs off the desk and sending the papers sitting on the edge flying to the floor. 

“You scared me!” you exclaimed as you dropped to your knees and started picking up the reports, not even bothering to look at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Well, it’s not every day you find a stranger getting comfortable at your desk,” he admonished as he drew closer.

“Your… desk..?” Your eyes widened before shooting up to the man in front of you, met with your own reflection in his dark shades. “Captain Wesker?”

“How astute,” he replied sardonically as he appraised you. “And you are?”

You turned your attention back to the scattered papers to avoid his piercing gaze that you could feel even through his glasses as you offered him your name.

“You’re a patrol officer, aren’t you? What are you doing up here? Not slacking off, I hope.”

You sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were caught. “Not slacking off, per se. I was asked to bring these reports to the west office and decided to take a little… detour. Wanted to check out the S.T.A.R.S. headquarters before it was in full use, you know?”

He hummed in response and–to your surprise–knelt down across from you to help you in your endeavor, his voice sounding amused as he inquired, “Well, is my personal office to your liking?”

Your eyes snapped back to his face at his teasing, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But that’s not what really held your attention, no.

His shades slid slightly down his nose as he assessed you, revealing the most dazzling pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen, like two sapphires set in stone.

You felt breathless looking at him, really taking in how handsome the man was.

“Cat got your tongue, Officer?” he asked as he passed over the papers in his grasp.

You huffed out a bashful laugh, feeling your cheeks redden as you took the reports from him. “Sorry. To answer your previous question, yes. Probably the most comfortable office chair I’ve ever sat on.”

“Ah, good to know,” he replied as he stood to his full height, adjusting his sunglasses so that they covered those beautiful eyes once more, to your displeasure.

You stood as well, having gathered all the papers. “You haven’t used your desk yet?”

“Hadn’t had the chance, I’m afraid. I technically don’t start until Monday, but I wanted to make sure everything was in working order,” he explained as he stroked a finger over the desk, lifting it to his face to inspect the level of dust that had settled on the relatively new piece of furniture before turning back to face you. 

“I’m so sorry, Captain Wesker. I didn’t even think about–”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No need to fret, my dear, I’m only pleased to hear it’s to your standards.”

If you were flushed before, you must look like a tomato now. The term of endearment made your heart skip a beat. 

You managed to calm yourself down, wondering why you were acting like this, and responded, “Well, I should really get back to work.”

“I won’t stop you,” he said as he moved out of your way, allowing you to exit the small office.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Captain,” you told him earnestly, holding out your hand for him to shake, your other one grasping the stack of reports tightly to avoid any more mishaps.

He took your hand in his larger one, the grip firm, though not crushing. “Likewise.”

You turned to leave but stopped in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at him with an abashed smile. “You won’t tell my superiors about this, right? I’m sure I’ll get reamed if they knew I was taking the scenic route.”

He folded his arms across his chest and that ghost of a smirk appeared once more. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

You nodded, appreciative, and hurried out of the room, something you hadn’t felt in a long time fluttering in your stomach.

***

May 7, 1996; R.P.D. 

It was unusually cold for a May morning. You rubbed your arms to warm yourself since you didn’t think to grab a jacket before leaving your apartment.

You paused, quirking a brow when you heard Kevin humming to himself beside you as he cheerfully scribbled on a piece of paper.

“I know for a fact that isn’t a report you’re filling out so happily. What is it?” you questioned suspiciously.

“Oh nothing, really,” he replied with a shrug before fixing you with an impish smile you knew far too well. “Just getting around to applying to S.T.A.R.S., is all.” 

“Didn’t you pick up that form like, a month ago?” 

He rolled his eyes. “So what? I’m doing it now. The team is the R.P.D.’s baby anyway. Not like it’s going anywhere.”

“Well, I’m rooting for you to get in, Kev,” you told him, clapping him on the back.

“You could apply too, you know.” 

There it was, the typical Kevin way of not-so-subtly hinting at something he wanted from you without ever straight up saying it. Something that drove you crazy during your relationship. Actually, it still drove you crazy, if you were honest.

You sighed, this being the umpteenth time he’s brought up the two of you joining S.T.A.R.S. together.

Sure, the team piqued your interest, especially all of the new recruits, but you had no real desire to join it yourself. You were pretty happy with your current position. Besides, you cringed every time you thought of your one and only interaction with their esteemed and intimidating captain, where you embarrassed yourself completely. 

“I already told you, Kev, I’m not interested.”

“I know, I know,” he replied as he stood from his chair. “I’m gonna grab a coffee from the break room. Be right back.”

You waved him off, a part of you feeling a little guilty for being so adamantly against applying. Neither of you wanted to separate as partners, but you knew he’d make fun of you if you told him why you weren’t keen on joining the special tactics force.

You were certain your application would be tossed immediately anyway, so why bother?

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and tried to focus on finishing the report that you had started earlier. 

That is, until you felt a presence looming behind you.

You assumed that it was Kevin, turning around in your seat to tell him off for hovering again, but the words died on your tongue when you found yourself staring at Captain Wesker instead.

“Captain? What are you doing here?” you questioned, more than a little confused.

“I’ve come here to make a suggestion,” he replied simply. “You should apply for S.T.A.R.S.”

“I–what?” you asked dumbly.

“I’ve seen your work history here at the R.P.D. You’ve proven yourself to be loyal, competent, and hardworking,” he explained, leaning down slightly to place the application form in front of you before looking at you directly. “Or hardworking until you ‘take a detour’, I should say.”

You’ve never felt so bewildered by someone–or so exposed by their gaze. 

You thought you utterly humiliated yourself in front of him, and yet he was practically offering you a job? He must have looked into you after your first meeting, but you couldn’t fathom what about you would garner the attention.

“Oh, sir, I’m not sure. I’m pretty content with where I’m at right now,” you said, repeating what you’d been telling Kevin for weeks. You were now more conflicted in making this decision, but it felt like the better option. Or the safer one.

His brow twitched ever-so-slightly at your response, but he replied coolly, “The choice is yours but do reconsider. It would be a great opportunity for you. A woman of your caliber will surely bore of your current station before too long.”

With that, the man turned and strode out of the room. 

You sat there for a moment, trying to wrap your brain around the interaction.

“I’m back,” Kevin announced as he plopped into his seat. 

When you didn’t immediately respond, he glanced over, seeing the application sitting on your desk. 

“What the hell is that?” he demanded. “Did you lie to me about not wanting to apply?”

You snapped out of your reverie at the accusation. “I didn’t lie! Captain Wesker gave it to me just now.” 

“As if.” 

You sighed before caving and telling Keven about your first meeting with the captain weeks ago, and what he just said to you a few moments prior.

It seemed your partner finally believed you as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, shit. Are you really not gonna join? He was right when he said it would be a great opportunity, and you apparently made a good impression somehow.”

You looked down at the form, tracing your finger over the S.T.A.R.S. emblem at the top of the first page, considering. 

The biggest reason you didn’t want to apply was your fear that Wesker thought you were a lazy idiot, but the man himself just claimed otherwise.

And you would be lying to yourself if you said the prospect of getting closer to the enigmatic captain didn’t excite you. 

He was just so… mysterious.

It must have been a curse, then, that you always loved a good mystery.

You tapped your nail on the application, feeling suddenly sure of yourself.

“I think I’ve changed my mind.”

***

May 23, 1996; R.P.D.

You stood in front of the door to the S.T.A.R.S. office once more, staring at it instead of just opening it up and entering like you knew you should. 

You had always been riddled with anxiety when it came to big changes like this, but for some reason, this one seemed far more life-altering than most you’ve dealt with in the past.

Shortly after Wesker’s “suggestion”, you and Kevin had filled out your applications to the special tactics team together.

“Good luck, partner,” Kevin said as the two of you went to turn in your forms.

You glanced over to him and he held up his little finger to you, which you wrapped tightly with your own. Something you always did to show solidarity.

“Good luck, Kev,” you responded, hoping for the best, for both of you.

Kevin had been severely disappointed when he discovered that your application had been accepted and his wasn’t. He even spent the rest of the evening nursing a drink and complaining to anyone who was within earshot at J’s Bar.

You felt guilty about it, especially knowing that you only recently changed your mind about joining S.T.A.R.S. And despite Kevin’s constant reassurances that you would remain friends even if you were no longer partners, it did little to quell the heartbreak of knowing the two of you would never go on patrol together again, or sit next to each other at your desks and goof off between half-finished reports. 

The realization of that almost made you rescind your application altogether, to which Kevin hastily told you it would be good for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere if you got the job.

“Who else would beat me at darts?” he had joked, patting your head like a dog.

You sniffled, trying not to let the tears building up in your eyes escape as you laughed. “Everyone this side of town, Ryman. You suck at them.”

The man usually struggled to stay serious, something you once couldn’t stand but now found endearing. However, he managed to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze and said with the most sincere tone you’ve ever heard from him, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite knowing you’d miss Kevin as your partner (as well as your other office mates), and the anxiety of such a decision, you were excited.

You’d never escape the grueling paperwork, but the missions would be far more interesting, and you were keen on getting to know the other members of the team. They were the best of the best, and you could learn a thing or two.

Of course, you still had to survive your interview with the captain himself, which somehow made you more nervous than the unsettling one you underwent with Chief Irons when you were fresh-faced from the police academy. You still shivered every time you thought about the old perv and how he had raked his eyes over you like a piece of meat. 

Fortunately, though, the interview went well.

The captain was as cool and collected as you now expected him to be, seeming to listen intently as you answered his questions to the best of your ability. You were confident in your skills, but only being able to see your own reflection in his shades and incapable of deciphering his tone made you sweat. 

“Well,” he said as you answered his final question, “I believe that concludes the interview.” 

You stood up as he did, your hands twiddling in front of you. “So? How’d I do?”

He offered a small smile at that, escorting you to his door. “It would do you well to be more stoic. You have a habit of showing your every emotion on your face.”

You stiffened at that, turning to face him with wide eyes, certain that you screwed yourself out of the job before you even had the chance to work it.

Before he opened the office door, he looked down at you. “You start first thing tomorrow. See you then.”

You had sputtered out a thanks, rushing out of the room and into the hallway so you could catch your breath.

You couldn’t believe it.

You made the team.

Kevin congratulated you when you told him, and he offered to take you out for a couple drinks in celebration. You decided to decline, not wanting to overdo it and show up the first day on the job with a hangover. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t pester.

You hardly slept that night, rehearsing introductions in hopes you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself (more than you already had).

And now here you were, standing in front of the S.T.A.R.S. office. 

You straightened your spine and the box of your belongings from downstairs that was tucked under your arm before walking into the room.

Your initial plan of action was to meet with the captain, but you could see he was talking to someone in his office. Your attempt to remain self-assured faltered a bit as you stood there uselessly, not sure if you should wait by the door or come back later. 

“Hey, can I help you?” you heard a voice say. 

You turned to find a beautiful young woman walking up to you, her brown hair in a short bob and her blue eyes regarding you with light curiosity.

You introduced yourself by name, offering her your free hand to shake. 

“Oh, you’re the new recruit, aren’t you? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jill Valentine. Come here, I’ll show you your desk.” She released your hand from hers, turning and leading you further into the room. She placed her fingers on a chair that was pushed under a desk that sat in the middle of the office. “You’re here. I’m right behind you.”

You sat the box of your things on the surface of your new space, awkwardly trying to avoid crushing the keyboard in the process. As you looked up from the action, a gaggle of inquisitive men crowded around you. 

“Who are you?” one of them asked, taking in your civilian clothing. You had turned in your old uniform before arriving at the office and had yet to be outfitted for your new one. 

“She’s the new member,” Marini informed them, walking up behind the group. You didn’t know the vice-captain personally, but you knew of him. The surrounding men parted so he could give you a firm handshake. “Welcome to the team. We’re glad to have you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad to be here.”

He nodded before leaving, the group converging once more to greet you. You gave out one handshake after another, your new team members leaving to sit at their own desks after introducing themselves.

The two men that remained didn't seem to be in a rush to leave as they considered you.

One of them had a red bandana tied around his head and saluted you with a smile. “Joseph Frost.”

“Forest Speyer,” the other said, sporting a brunet mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” you responded, shaking their hands like the others. 

“It’s great to finally have an actual chick working with us,” Forest added. “Jill doesn’t count.”

“Up yours, Speyer,” The woman retorted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t mind these two. They’re the resident clowns.”

Joseph reached out to squeeze her nose, making a honking noise as she swatted his hand away.

“In all seriousness, it’s nice to have another woman on the team. Feels like I’m drowning in testosterone everyday,” Jill told you in amused exasperation.

You scoffed in agreement, leaning against your desk and crossing your arms over your chest. “I know what you mean. The department’s a bit of a sausage fest.”

“Hey, sausage is delicious!” Joseph defended.

Forest, who had been leaning on his friend, was quick to wrap his arm around his neck and give him a noogie. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Frost?”

“Okay, wait a minute!” Joseph said, trying to pull Forest off of him. “I didn’t mean it like that, man!” 

You laughed as the friends roughhoused, Jill smiling at you warmly.

“You guys wrestling without me?” another man asked as he approached the four of you. He was tall, muscular, and incredibly handsome, his brown eyes falling on you as Forest let go of Joseph. “You lost, sweetheart? I could escort you to the reception desk. Or better yet, out to dinner.” 

You were stunned by such a bold flirtation, only able to narrow your eyes at the large man. 

“Uh, Chris–” Jill started.

“I’d prefer you didn’t harass the new hire, Redfield,” Captain Wesker interrupted as he seemingly appeared out of thin air, disdain seeping from his tone at his subordinate’s terrible pick-up line. 

“New hire?” the other man questioned before glancing back at you, looking sheepish. “Shit, I’m sorry about that. I’m Chris Redfield, by the way.”

You had heard that name quite a bit since he was recruited a few weeks prior. The receptionists always gossiped about how handsome and charming he was. You weren’t sure if “charming” was the right word for it, now that you finally met him. “Cheeseball” seemed more suitable.

You smiled, feeling forgiving as you shook his hand and gave him your name in turn. “No worries, Redfield. Talk to me like that again, though, and I’ll have to kick your ass.” 

In your peripheral vision, you could swear you saw a smirk on Wesker’s face at your words. It was gone when you looked his way.

“No need for that. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise,” Chris replied with a chuckle and a good-natured wink. 

“Glad to see introductions are over,” Wesker said, now fully facing you. “I have a meeting with the chief soon, but you and I have some things to discuss. When I return, I want you to come to my office. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good,” was all he declared before turning and striding out of the room. 

Once the door closed behind him, you pivoted toward your new teammates, whispering, “Is he… usually that standoffish?”

The group nodded in response. 

“He’s a good leader, don’t get me wrong,” Chris told you. “He can be a hardass sometimes, but he’s fair. Just kind of–I don't know–reserved, I guess.”

“Hm,” you responded, staring at the office door in thought.

You wondered if maybe you could get closer to him than the others, though you weren’t sure how to do that. Or even why. Sure, he was handsome, but he was your boss. Nothing good would come from feeding the flames of this little crush you somehow managed to form in the minimal interactions you had with him. 

This was a dangerous game, and you knew you shouldn’t play it.

The image of those blue eyes danced in your mind anyway. 

You sat down at your desk, half listening to your teammates as they talked and joked around, deciding to put away your things while you waited for the captain to return.

When you were finished, you glanced around, freezing when you realized you could see directly into Wesker’s office. The two of you would be able to look right at each other when the blinds were pulled up.

“Was I assigned this desk, do you know?” you asked the others.

“Yeah, Wesker picked it. Why?” Jill questioned.

You felt heat creeping up your neck.

Surely, that wasn’t on purpose, right? It had to be some coincidence that he put you within sight of his office. That, or maybe he was keeping a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t fuck up.

Either way, you felt a thrill of both exhilaration and apprehension run through you all at once, knowing you’d easily be able to sneak a glance at him whenever you wanted.

God, you were so juvenile. 

“No reason,” you lied, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

The job was going to be interesting, to say the least.

***

August 6, 1996; R.P.D.

The days bled into weeks.

The team seemed to accept you into the fold with ease, your experience in the force something they respected despite your lack of the more elite training a majority of them had received during their time in the military. 

That was something that Wesker and Marini would rectify, however, having you spend time with each member of the team to learn their trade. 

They wanted you to be their everyman, someone who could fill any role in case someone was unavailable and their particular expertise was required. But what they needed most was a medic, and that was the first thing you were trained in upon your official induction to S.T.A.R.S.

You had always been a quick study, building up your skills rapidly. You found yourself making fast friendships with your teammates, immediately falling into stride while on missions.

The constant learning, the fighting, the delicious adrenaline of a dangerous assignment well done–it sang in your veins. You had enjoyed your time as a patrol officer and missed working with Kevin and the others, but this team felt like home. 

And even with the guilt you still felt for leaving Kevin behind, your friendship was steadfast like he had promised, telling you he’d just apply again. You managed to convince him to go out bar-hopping with some of the team and it didn't even end in disaster, to your relief. 

If you were content before, you were positively radiant with joy now, feeling more energetic and ready to take on the world than you had in years. 

Even your father, who never really accepted your desire to be on the force despite his military background, could see you were happy and commented on it. He told you he was proud of you, something you’d rarely heard from his mouth. It brought you to tears to hear it.

Maybe this was your calling.

It didn’t help that the captain took note of your aptitude, and although rare, his praise was something you started to yearn for. It was honestly pathetic, you were well aware, but you couldn’t stop the swell of self-satisfaction you felt when he told you how good of a job you were doing.

You’d be lying if you said that his approval wasn’t one of the reasons you tried so hard, but no one had to know. So you let yourself secretly bask in the occasional attention.

You had to admit, though, to your own chagrin, that your crush on your superior was getting a little out of control. The things he did had you going crazy, second-guessing his intentions with every interaction.

It started with him gripping your shoulder ever-so-lightly as he peered over it to check your report progress, which had you stiffening like a board in your seat.

“Good work,” he had said, the words making your heart skip a beat before he moved away like nothing happened. 

And then came the light touches, like a tap against your arm to get your attention, or brushing your fingers with his own as you handed something over to him. 

It was all innocent enough. You could pass it off as incidental, or as your growing desperation for his returning affection making you imagine he could have any real interest in you beyond your position on the team. 

You’d never been good at deciphering signals like that anyway. Kevin had to speak quite plainly for you to realize he liked you as more than a friend.

But then you’d find yourself glancing every so often into Wesker’s office to discover he was already looking at you. You were quick to avert your gaze, but you could still feel the heat of his stare long after your eyes had fallen back to your desk.

It made you wonder.

“We still on for Friday?” Chris asked you, pulling you from your daydreaming.

You smiled as your head fell to the side of your chair to look at the man—who was becoming one of your closest friends in record time—and remembered your plans for the weekend.

He was shocked you had never ridden on a motorcycle before and was adamant he take you on a ride one day. You told him Friday evenings were preferable so that you didn’t have to rush back home to get ready for work the next morning.

You informed him it wasn’t a date, however, and he had rolled his eyes.

“If it was a real date, you’d know,” he said, a mirthful gleam in his gaze.

“I thought you said you’d behave, Redfield,” you teased, smacking his arm at the implication. 

“Well, I have, haven’t I?”

“And you better keep it that way.”

He looked at you expectantly and you could laugh at the expression on his face. He was awfully cute for such a buff guy. Like a teddy bear.

“Sure are,” you replied finally, offering a wink and a finger gun.

“Good, cos there’s this great burger joint I found a few towns over. You’ll love it.” 

“Greasy food and a long drive? You’re speaking my language, Redfield.”

“What can I say? You seem the type.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, laughing.

He shrugged. “Just a woman of simple pleasures, I guess.” 

You scoffed in mock defense. “My pleasures can be plenty extravagant, I’ll have you know.”

“I don’t know, but you can show me.” 

Your mouth dropped at his sheer audacity and he gave you a shit-eating grin. 

You reached over and flicked his nose as hard as you could, making him flinch backward, to your satisfaction. 

“Can you guys stop flirting while I’m trying to work?” Kenneth said from a few desks over. 

“Hey, that’s all on him, okay?” you defended, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, brow raised. “I didn’t offend you that badly, did I?”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Redfield. I’m just gonna grab a coffee. Try not to cry too hard when I leave.” 

He shook his head at you, turning back to his desk as you waved, backing out of the office. 

It was a bit quiet today, as several of the S.T.A.R.S. members were on an assignment. 

You’d normally prefer to be out there with them, but goofing off with Chris always made doing paperwork more bearable. You still worried about your other teammates, though, a little tense as you awaited their updates over the radio and hopeful return to the R.P.D. 

You made your way casually to the break room, which was usually uninhabited this time of the morning. You liked it that way, making it easy for you to enjoy a moment of peace as you sipped on your hot beverage in comfortable silence.

You put on a fresh pot, leaning idly against the counter as you waited, wondering what your team was up to at that very moment.

Finally, the coffee was brewed, and you were quick to make up your drink, perching on the counter this time, your legs dangling. You technically weren’t supposed to be sitting there, something Marvin got onto you for several times in the past. But the room was empty, so you didn’t care.

After a couple of minutes, you found your mind wandering back to your captain, something it often did these days. 

You liked to imagine taking off his sunglasses fully to really display his features. You thought about what his hair looked like when it wasn’t slicked back, how it would feel between your fingers. You bit your lip as you envisioned what he looked like under his uniform, what it would be like to run your hands down his taut abs, and then lower.

Your brain started to enter certified gutter territory when the door to the break room suddenly opened, and you were met with an all too familiar figure striding towards you. 

Speak of the devil.

You could feel your cheeks redden as you looked upon Wesker himself, cursing your mind for the dirty thoughts you were just ruminating on seconds ago.

He greeted you coolly as he approached you, pouring himself a cup.

“Captain,” you offered in return. “How was the meeting with the chief?”

He frowned slightly, placing the cup on the countertop, his tone laced with a hint of vitriol, “About as well as usual.”

“That bad, huh?” you tried to joke, unsure of where to go from there.

That always seemed to be the case with the captain. You would attempt to conversate with him, maybe even get to know him, and he would deflect or give the most minimal or cryptic response. 

But sometimes… Sometimes your probing worked and he would open up a little bit.

“Mm,” was his only reply.

Guess today wasn’t one of those days.

You deflated at that, feeling awkward as you took a sip of your drink, looking away from him.

Thinking that was it, you were shocked when he moved closer, standing directly in front of you before leaning forward. 

You short-circuited as his face neared yours, and your breath hitched at the thought of him kissing you right then and there.

Your lips parted as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Before you knew it, he pulled back, a stirring straw between his fingers.

“Just needed this,” he informed you.

You felt embarrassed at your reaction, but you could have sworn you saw a knowing smirk grace his lips before he grabbed his cup and left the room.

You shook your head, pressing your hand over your heart as you tried to calm it.

But as you jumped off the counter, ready to get back to work, a realization struck you.

He never added sugar or cream. What was there to stir?

This man, you thought, laughing airily to yourself. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

September 13, 1996; R.P.D.

“You fight like a girl,” Chris taunted as the two of you circled each other, your fists raised and ready to strike.

“Oh, we’re going that route, are we? Trying to piss me off enough to lose my cool?” you replied with a sneer. “Dirty trick, Redfield.” 

You were both drenched in sweat, having been at this for several minutes. 

You were good at fighting, your teen years spent in hallway smackdowns and mixed martial arts classes, plus the police training as an adult. But Chris’s skills far outweighed your own, a big reason why you ever sparred with him to begin with. He always beat you in these matches, though you were getting better every time.

And today you were going to take him down.  

“Not a trick if it’s true.” At that moment he lunged forward, aiming for your stomach.

This was what you were waiting for the whole fight, dodging his punches and kicks and landing smaller but quicker hits between them. He was fast for a big dude, but you were faster. 

You just had to pick the right moment. 

You dropped low as he lurched forward, using his own momentum and catching him off balance.

He fell to the ground face first and you were quick to pounce, straddling his back and holding his arms behind him with all your strength.

You could feel the muscles of his arms flexing in your own as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but at this angle, he had no leverage. 

“Alright, alright. I yield,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked meanly, tilting your head forward.

“I yield and you won. Happy?” he said more loudly, just to appease you.

“Hell yeah!” you shouted, releasing your hold on him.

You pulled out your mouthguard, pumping your gloved fist in the air, the excitement of taking Chris down for the first time making you giddy. 

You leapt to your feet, holding your hand out to help him up. “Wanna go another round, Redfield?” 

“Would if I could,” he said, taking off the velcro straps of one of his gloves with his teeth after removing his own rubber piece from behind his lips.

“Oh, scared I’ll beat you again?” you teased, walloping him in the gut good-naturedly.

He knocked aside your hand as he rolled his eyes. “You know I have to go pick up Claire from the airport. Otherwise, I’d put you in your place.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that last part,” you said, plopping down on the floor for a quick break and ripping off your own gloves. “You two still coming over for dinner tomorrow night? You know, so I can finally meet her?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he told you with a grin, gathering his gear and heading toward the men’s locker room. “Seeya then!” 

“I better!” you called, watching him as he slipped through the door.

You fell onto your back and starfished out on the mat, your exhaustion from the match finally catching up to you. 

A part of you still wanted to go another round, wondering if anyone from your team was still hanging around the precinct. You could even hit up your buddies in the east and west offices. Rita always loved a good fight with you.

“That was impressive,” a deep voice rang out. 

With a jolt, you sat upright, looking wide-eyed at the man walking towards you.

“Captain!” you exclaimed. “You saw that?”

“I did,” he told you. “Chris is one of my best fighters, so that was no easy feat.”

You wanted to accept the full glory of such a compliment, but you had the suspicion that Chris was holding back the whole fight. “I think he took it easy on me, to be honest.” 

“Well, he shouldn’t have underestimated you, then. His mistake.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, only able to offer him a bashful smile, changing the subject in order to hide the way his words affected you, “What brings you to the gym anyway?”

He was still in his S.T.A.R.S. uniform, so clearly he wasn’t already exercising when he happened upon your sparring match with Chris. 

“I usually complete my workouts early in the day, but Chief Irons’s emergency call this morning was quite the disruption to my schedule.”

“Better late than never, I guess.” You let out a shrill giggle that sounded unnatural coming from your mouth, making yourself wince at your own awkwardness.

“Indeed,” he said, scanning the room. “Would you be up for another round? Unlike Chris, I have no intention of going easy on you.” 

Had you imagined the dark lilt in his voice as he spoke those last few words? Something about it made your spine tingle.

You were nervous at the idea of sparring with the captain, though, mainly because you knew he was the best at combat in S.T.A.R.S., even above Chris. And if you were only just now able to take Chris down in a match, knowing full well he didn’t put his all into the fight, you had no chance against Wesker. 

You weren’t exactly leaping at the opportunity to get humiliated by your boss, but the thought of him touching you, even in a violent way, gave you pause in declining his offer.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” you eventually agreed.

“Excellent. I’ll be right back.” He left for a few minutes to change into his athleticwear, something you realized you’d never seen him in until now. The thought drove you a little crazy. You shoved the guard back in your mouth and returned your gloves to your hands in anticipation.

He came back into the room in a well-fitted white t-shirt and black sweatpants. You felt your face heat up as you drank in his appearance and the way the fabric clung to his body. You never thought someone could look so hot in sweats, and yet.

He pulled on his gloves as he joined you on the mat, sunglasses still on his face and no protective piece of rubber in sight.

“Uh, sir, shouldn’t you wear a mouthguard?” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he assured, nonchalant as he got into position in front of you, “I won’t need it.”

Bewildered by his confidence, you matched his stance, putting up your hands.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

Before you could even blink, he was on you, immediately throwing a punch that sent you staggering back a step. 

You recovered swiftly, able to dodge the next one, though barely.

You were shocked by how lithe and quick on his feet he was, considering his height and the fact he was a decade older than you.

You went for a low blow at his side, hoping to open his guard for a second hit. 

He blocked it with ease before punching you in the gut so hard, it winded you.

“Keep your guard up,” he instructed, giving you the barest of moments to recuperate before he landed his next strike.

You were struggling to find an opening, so you had to desperately dodge and weave in hopes of catching him unawares. You knew you wouldn’t have enough momentum to charge him, as he wouldn’t let you back away far enough. You worried if you tried to kick him, he’d just pull your feet from under you. 

Maybe you could trip him?

That would be your best bet of getting him on the ground.

You narrowly avoided a kick to the chest, realizing now was your chance before he could stand in a more stable position.

You quickly swept your leg out, aiming straight for his ankles.

Before you could finish the movement, however, he was able to grapple you with ease, your world spinning as he flipped you spine-first onto the mat, pinning you there.

You were breathing heavily as you tried to loosen his grip, your frustration mounting at the obvious futility of it.

“Fine, I yield,” you finally admitted, slumping back against the mat in defeat.

Your eyes snapped up when you heard him chuckle above you, the man barely having broken a sweat. 

“You lasted longer than I expected,” he told you as he leaned down, the suggestive smirk on his face crashing you back to the reality that he was on top of you, his face mere inches from your own. 

He hovered for a moment, almost teasingly, before releasing you and standing up.

He pulled off one of his gloves and held his hand out for you to take as he said, “You need to work on predicting your opponent’s next move, my dear.”

“Duly noted,” you replied as you let him help you to your feet, feeling embarrassed by your blunders throughout the whole match. 

But there was something else too. 

The rush you felt as he pinned you down would fuel your fantasies for weeks to come.

He gave you a small smile, stunning you as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, an incredibly tender action considering what had just transpired between you. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Oh, you were in for it now.

***

November 5, 1996; Raccoon Forest

The day had taken an unexpected turn, one that you couldn’t help but be grateful for.

Just over an hour ago, you had been sitting in the S.T.A.R.S. office, arguing with Forest over which popular rock bands would win in a bar brawl when Wesker and Marini strode into the room, the purpose in their steps indicating one thing and one thing only:

A new mission briefing. 

There had been a robbery at the Johnson National Bank and the eight culprits had scattered to the winds. Intel suggested they had run off to the Raccoon Forest, up near the town of Cedar, but there were a handful of places they had been seen in and around the area. It was decided that a few members of the team (and yourself) would be splitting up into groups to check out the different locations.

And that led to you sitting in the passenger seat of one of the R.P.D.’s unmarked vans, Wesker behind the wheel. 

You were more than a little shocked by his decision to have the two of you go alone on this assignment, the man usually sticking to larger groups or remaining behind in the S.T.A.R.S. office to have a better hold of the situation. This time, he left Marini in charge, to everyone’s bewilderment. It didn’t last long, however, the team immediately jumping into action. 

You, though? You were dazed. Giddy, even.

You came into work everyday just hoping you’d have another moment alone with him like some blushing schoolgirl, happy as a clam to be given any opportunity.

Over the last few weeks, he had continued his maddening gestures of light touches and shared glances (which seemed to be a constant these days, to your delight), and you had sparred several times since that very first match. 

He always managed to pin you to the ground, no matter how much you’d been improving, and despite your competitive nature making you want to win just once, you couldn’t help but relish the physical contact combat training with him brought. You still enjoyed and learned a lot from your matches with Chris, but Wesker was the better teacher. Maybe that was the infatuation talking, though.

And now you were sitting alone with him, heading towards a cabin in the woods.

It would almost be romantic if you took the armed robbers out of the equation.

The relatively long drive was quite tense, however, and you tried desperately multiple times to ease it with mindless smalltalk. The captain was very clearly uninterested in that. 

And so the last stretch of the trip was completely silent, save for the occasional chatter of your team over the radio.

You spent most of the ride staring out at the passing trees, picking at your cuticles as you were oft to do. 

“You should stop doing that.” 

You startled at Wesker’s voice in the quiet vehicle, whipping your head around to face him. He glanced at you only for a moment before putting his attention back on the road ahead.

“Nervous habit,” you mumbled, feeling like a scolded child.

He didn’t respond, but you continued to look at him anyway. 

You admired the slope of his nose, his strong jawline, and the way he seemed to be made of only hard lines and sharp edges. How someone so cold could set you ablaze was beyond you.

Maybe you just wanted what you couldn’t have.

He half-turned back to you, meeting your gaze with a slight quirk of his brow. “Yes?”

“Nothing!” you said a little too quickly, embarrassed you had been caught outright ogling him in such close quarters. 

He let out a faint snicker, and when you peered over at him, you saw the smug smile that graced his lips. You were expeditious in returning your eyes to the window, not wanting him to see the heat blooming in your face.

Did he have any inkling as to what he did to you? How he affected you so severely, it must have changed the wiring of your brain? 

He had to know, right? At least somewhat? The way he’d tease you or smirk at you had to mean something. 

He’s still my boss, you reminded yourself. It wouldn’t matter if he knew. It wouldn’t matter if he felt even a fraction of the same way. Nothing good would come of it.

You knew that.

Still, you thought of sapphires. 

You remained facing away from him until he pulled down a dirt road and parked the van between some trees, giving you ample cover from prying eyes. 

You sat up straight, unbuckling your seatbelt as you turned to him for instruction, knowing when to set aside your feelings for the sake of the job.

The plan was simple enough: the two of you would circle the perimeter before advancing in on the cabin. If there was any indication that more than at least two of the perps were present, you would return to the van and call for backup. Otherwise, you could proceed with searching the small building and possibly make an arrest.

The captain informed the team of your whereabouts and of the plan, a couple of them already through with their inspections, finding nothing. He told them to remain on standby while you and the others conducted your own search. 

“Stay close to me,” Wesker warned as the two of you readied your guns, carefully making your way to the clearing where the old wooden cabin sat.

You and the captain checked the surrounding area, noting there weren’t any vehicles present, though the tire tracks in the dirt just outside the building were fresh.

There were no lights on inside the cabin as you approached the door, waiting for Wesker’s orders. He had you pick the lock, which you did with relative ease, before he went in ahead of you, gun first. 

The place was a mess, beer bottles and other garbage littering every surface. It smelled of mildew and sweat, which made you crumple your nose in disgust as you shuffled silently through the tiny rooms.

You followed Wesker as he entered the final space–a bedroom–and ripped the closet door open to find it empty, save for a stack of shoe boxes in the corner.

“All clear at the cabin,” he said, both to you and the radio. “We’re going to search the place more thoroughly. Tell me if anything changes on your end. Over.” 

You heard a chorus of “copy that” as you lowered your gun, feeling more relaxed as you began looking for either the stolen money or clues to the thieves’ current whereabouts.

“This place looks like it’s been abandoned a while,” you mused, taking in the state of the seventies-style furniture and the building itself. 

It was all covered in a thick layer of gray dust, except for what had been kicked up or swept away by the fugitives staying here–the dark wood of the floors, walls, and ceiling cracking and rotting in some places.

“Many of the cabins out here were built nearly a hundred years ago, mostly inhabited by hunters and trappers,” Wesker told you as he scanned his surroundings, ever calculating. “When Umbrella made their home in Arklay county and the population grew, a lot of the properties were bought up and remodeled.”

“I wonder why this place was abandoned, then.”

Wesker shrugged. “More people started moving into the city.”

“Good ole urbanization, huh?” you joked, offering him a grin. “I wish I had the money to buy a place like this. Would be nice to have a little vacation home. Always loved the forest here.”

“Though I believe I could thrive anywhere,” he replied with a sniff, “I much prefer the city.”

You laughed. “Fair enough. I do like to visit the more rural areas, but you can take all my city conveniences from my cold, dead hands.”

You heard him huff out a chuckle in response, something that always made you weak in the knees to hear it–to know he found you amusing. What you would give to hear a real, unrestrained, honest to god belly laugh from him, though. You wondered if he was capable of such a thing. You couldn’t even imagine a sound like that coming from someone so poised and put-together.

“Well, would you look at this,” Wesker remarked, drawing you back to reality. When you turned to him, he had fallen to one knee, prying open a floorboard in the dining room. “Appears I’ve discovered their stash.”

You rushed over to him, peeking over his shoulder to see rows and rows of stacked bills, shoved into a compartment built under the floor.

“How did you even find this?” you questioned in shock. You were pretty observant, but something like this never would have crossed your mind, least of all how to access it.

“The mountains were a safer place to store alcohol during the prohibition. Some of these old cabins had secret compartments and rooms installed to hide their contraband,” he explained before pointing at the loose piece of wood held aloft in his hand. “And I noticed these fingerprints in the dust along the edges.”

“My very own Sherlock Holmes,” you said, awestruck. “I could really learn a thing or two from you, huh, Detective?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.”

You stared openmouthed at him for a moment before bursting into a laugh, not expecting him to play along. 

He looked up and your heart stopped as he smiled at you. Teeth and all. You couldn’t recall having ever witnessed such a genuine expression on his face, the realization filling you with an unprecedented warmth.

Before you could fully appreciate this momentous occasion, you heard a creak from behind you in the kitchen. You both snapped your attention to the direction of the noise, pulling your guns from their holsters.

Wesker stood, holding a finger to his lips as the two of you crept forward into the room. You looked around, checking the pantry, fridge, and the inside of every cabinet, but there was nothing amiss.

You took a steadying breath. “Must’ve been the house settling.”

Wesker nodded and you moved away from him, ready to make your way out of the cramped space as you returned your weapon to your belt.

You were nearing the entrance to the kitchen when Wesker suddenly called out, “Wait–”

His voice was cut off by the crash that sounded beside you.

A door hidden in the wall flung open, two men barreling out of the space behind it and right towards you.

You let out a yelp as one of them took you tumbling to the ground, too fast and too close to have pulled out your gun in time to prevent it.

The man was huge, heavier than even Chris as he bore down his whole weight on top of you.

You kneed him in the groin as he tried to hold down your arms, the pain making him falter. 

You managed to flip him onto his back, pulling your gun out once more as he struggled against you. He stopped when he saw the barrel pointed directly at his face.   

You flinched when you heard a shot ring out, the sound of a body hitting the floor making you jerk your head around to make sure that your captain was the one still standing.

You realized your error too late when the man below you grabbed for your gun while you were distracted.

You had the chance to shoot, knowing that if he managed to yank it from your grasp, he’d blow your brains out in a heartbeat. 

But you had never killed anyone–never wanted to kill anyone. 

You knew a violence stirred within you. It was the reason you even ended up here in the first place. But murder? Even in self-defense, even justified, you were terrified of pulling the trigger. 

This was something you could never come back from.  

And so you made another grave mistake.

You hesitated.

Although your grip on the firearm was secure and he couldn’t tug it out of your hands, he used his strength over you to twist the barrel away from him and towards you instead.

You fought to regain control as he shoved it closer and closer to your face.

With nothing left to do, you pushed down hard, the firearm pointed sideways, to your relief.

But the pressure of the action forced your finger against the trigger, the gun going off between you.

You both reeled back from the noise, your would-be killer loosening his hold just enough for you to rip your handgun away from him. 

But before you could even rack the slide and point it towards the man once again, another shot was fired. 

You felt the man below you go limp and you sat there, stunned, as you watched the blood pour out of the hole in his head, collecting in a pool on the dirty kitchen tiles.

Hands trembling from the adrenaline, you stood up, taking in the bodies of the two robbers that laid before you, splashes of dark red now decorating the wall and floor. 

“Thank you, Captain,” you said, eyeing the carnage with barely repressed nausea. “That was too close.” 

You heard a hiss of pain behind you and you spun on your heels, finding Wesker with a snarl on his face as he held his hand to the side of his neck.

“Captain..?” you questioned, voice filled with concern as you stepped towards him.

That’s when you saw it–the crimson rivulets that ran down his wrist, staining the blue of his shirt.

You panicked, rushing forward. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding!”

You reached out to him, quickly pulling away his hand to assess the damage. It was a small, open wound. Thankfully, it wasn’t deep, and no major arteries had been afflicted.

He was clearly grazed by a bullet if the hole in the cabinet behind his head was any indication. 

But when had he been shot? 

He must have seen you trying to replay the scene in your head, counting the gunshots you recalled hearing, when he spoke with a low voice. 

“You hesitated.”

That was right. Your gun had gone off, facing away from both you and the perp. 

It had hit him.

You stopped breathing when it registered in your brain, the sickening awareness of the fact that it was the bullet from your gun that had injured him–that had nearly killed him–making your heart sink into your gut.

“Oh god. Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I can’t–'' He placed a firm, grounding hold on your arm with his free hand and you took a sharp breath in. You had to get it together. Your guilt could wait until he stopped bleeding, at least. “Come on, my medkit’s in the van.”

The two of you rushed outside and to the vehicle in question. You opened the back of it, having him sit on the edge of the cargo space as you scrounged in your kit for supplies.

You got to work on the wound, Wesker explaining the situation over the radio, requesting assistance from Chief Irons to handle the stolen money and the corpse clean-up. You were grateful he didn’t mention your almost fatal misstep, simply telling the chief that he had been injured.

Once that was handled and you finished covering the gash on his neck, you gently pressed your fingers to it, your eyes finally filling with tears now that he was all patched up.

Normally, you’d be over the moon to be this close to him–to be touching him–but not like this. It was tainted by your error in judgment. By your inability to do what had to be done. 

“I should have taken the shot,” you whispered with a quivering voice full of shame and regret, incapable of looking at him.

You felt him grip your wrist and your watery gaze traveled to his visage, his mouth in a tight line, whatever emotion could be shown in his eyes hidden behind his shades.

“You should have,” he agreed, “but you didn’t.”

You felt a sob catch in your throat. 

“And I should have noticed the hidden door sooner. But I didn’t. Nothing to be done about it now.”

You gaped at how blase he was being. You would rather him be angry with you than whatever this was. You deserved his vitriol right now. Not this calm acceptance.

“Captain, you were hurt because of me!” you cried, your fingers digging into his shirt as your tears spilled down your cheeks. “You nearly died!”

Your breath hitched as he brought his unbloodied hand to cup your face, his thumb wiping away the droplets falling in its path. 

“So did you,” he responded, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m willing to take a bullet if it means sparing you.”

You could feel your heart swelling in your chest, unable to tamp down the affection that threatened to erupt from that locked-up place inside of you, where you had been hiding your growing feelings for your dear captain.

And, without a single sensible thought left to stop you, you surged forward and kissed him.

His lips were soft, and you could almost laugh at yourself for being shocked by such a revelation. He might’ve looked like he was made of marble, but his skin was pliant as any man’s. You had built him up so much in your head, you sometimes forgot that he was human too.

He tensed and you pulled back instantly, panic rising with the thought that you had gone off the deep end this time.

First, you nearly killed your boss, and then you kissed him? All within roughly fifteen minutes? 

Surely, there was a record for something like that.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten–”

Before you could even finish your sentence, however, he tugged you towards him once more, kissing you so hard it made your toes curl inside of your boots.

When he released you, you were dazed, the feel and taste of his mouth so consuming, you were sure you’d be dreaming about it for weeks to come.

You wanted to say something–to tell him how long you had wanted to do that for–but the words died on your tongue at the sound of a vehicle fast approaching.

You sighed as you stepped away from him to create some distance, not wanting to expose whatever it was that had just passed between you.

You heard Chris and Jill calling out and you yelled back, alerting them to your location in the brush beside the road.

Before they could arrive, though, Wesker grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you into one final, searing kiss.

You had felt fire before–it was in your nature to chase whatever flame compelled you–but this? 

This was wild. Untamed. An inferno to boil your blood and burn up every shred of common sense you had left.

There was no way to contain it anymore. No way to put it out.

All you could do now was ignite.

--------------------

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[killian-whump]

I had a dream that Colin was working on a super secret project and only ever posted ONE behind-the-scenes photo of himself from the project - a picture of him just chilling in this ridiculously ornate pool. But then we heard nothing more about the project and he never said what it was.

Then I was watching this just-released Alice in Wonderland themed horror movie and I recognized the pool from Colin’s picture when the main characters went into some underground grotto and I was like “OH MY GOD, IT’S HAPPENING, SOMETHING’S HAPPENING, COLIN’S GONNA BE IN HERE SOMEWHERE!!”

And then this awesome river demon rose up out of the water and I was like, “Colin?!” Like, this dude was 100% badass and evil and clearly the big bad villain of the movie and I was like, “Are you Colin?!” because he didn’t LOOK like Colin, but then he kinda didn’t look like anybody human, cos his costume was totally badass and demonic and stuff.

Then he spoke, and it was this deep rumbly voice, but I could totally hear Colin in there. And I was like, “Colin!! It’s Colin!! OH MY GOD, I LOVE HIM!!” And I was like flailing around and cheering and so happy and the people watching the movie with me were like, “WTF, I don’t think you’re supposed to like this guy... What is wrong with you?” and meanwhile I’m, like, two seconds from starting a fan club for this river demon whose name I don’t even know yet and I’m like - *looks up in confusion, suddenly wearing a ridiculous DisneyBound style fangirl outfit devoted to this character that appeared 3 hot seconds ago on the screen* “Wha...? No, I love him!”

And that’s how I became known as the crazy girl who simps for a demonic river god character that everyone else had unanimously declared the Worst Guy Ever. And everyone else in the dream kept trying to convince me not to like this character and I was just like, “Nah, can’t help it, it’s Colin. I love him.”

“But he’s evil!” “I know! Colin must’ve loved playing him!” 🤗

“But he eats people!” “Yeah, but he’s so good at it!” 🤗

And then at some point we were IN the movie. So...

“But he’s trying to eat you!” “Colin would never hurt anybody for real!” 🤗

Then Megan McCarthy (commonly known as Melissa McCarthy, but apparently also known as Megan McCarthy in my dream world) showed up out of nowhere like, “Look. This is getting really ridiculous now. You’re about to get eaten by the most horrible river demon in the world and you’re going to your death like a schoolgirl on a field trip to a candy factory.”

“Cos it’s Colin!”

“It’s not Colin.”

“I don’t believe you! I know it’s Colin!”

“No, listen,” Megan told me. “I’m the one playing the river demon.”

“Not gonna believe you. I saw the behind-the-scenes photo of Colin on THIS set.”

Megan sighed. “Okay, look, Colin was only here on set because he was bringing me lunch.”

“Why would Colin be bringing you lunch?!”

And she went, “Well, he’s my boyfriend.”

Before I even had a chance to question this, the entire dream STOPPED like one of those record scratch moments and Colin poked his head in and went, “I’m married, Megan McCarthy.” Full name and everything. Serious business.

Megan didn’t miss a beat, though. “You can’t be my boyfriend if you’re married, Colin. That shit’s not cool.”

“I was never your boyfriend,” Colin said, but he was already being drowned out by Megan dramatically breaking up with him in front of everyone because he’s married and she didn’t know... and Colin was just like

And he finally went, “Are you done?”

And Megan was like, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m done now. Sorry, Col.” Then she turned back to me and said, “So that’s it. That’s the big secret. I’m the river demon. It’s not Colin.”

I was all *suspicious Fry gif* at her, but then I finally said, “Well, I don’t really believe you, but... even if you’re telling the truth, the joke’s on you, ‘cos I’m a fan of yours, too.”

And then I got kicked out of my own dream.

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 9

word count: 2061

warnings: talks of sex, faking sex, language

cross posted on wattpad

master list

————————————————————————

"Um, did you just say Ashton??" Eliana questions Victoria.

"Yes, yes I did." Vic responds.

"You went on a date with MY ex?! How could you?!"

"Eliana, for the last fucking time. We're not friends anymore. You took Austin right from underneath me. If I want to date Ashton, I can. You can deal with it if it really bothers you that much."

"God, you're such a bitch." Eliana scoffs.

"Takes one to know one."

"Hey, can you not treat my girl like that?" Austin asks Vic.

"Why? I'm just treating her the way she's treating me. She shouldn't even be on set."

Austin didn't say anything because he knew she was right.

Everyone headed off to set to take their places, Eliana stayed off to the side to watch.

"You know, why can't you girls just learn to get along for the sake of the movie so we don't have to be so miserable on set?" Austin asks Vic as they take places.

"Look, Austin. I would be perfectly fine with being civil but she's the one that's always starting shit, and I'm not letting her get away with it like I did when we were friends."

"Are you sure you're not the one starting things?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because she's always telling me that it's you."

"Well, somehow you're rarely ever around when she starts it, so you're not there to actually see it. Oh, and by the way, I'd keep my eye on her. I saw her checking out one of the extras."

"She wouldn't. She loves me too much."

"She loves your dick & good looks. That's about it."

"How could you be so sure?"

"That's how it is with everyone she dates. Trust me. And I feel like I've told you this before."

"Ha, yeah. Okay."

"Don't come crying to me when you catch her cheating, saying "I told you so.""

"I won't, because she won't do that."

"Mhm."

"Alright, everyone places! We're rolling in 30 seconds!" Anna shouts.

Austin & Victoria deliver their scenes and get their takes.

"Great work guys. I'm sure as you both read in the script & in the schedule, tomorrow we're doing the sex scene. I hope you guys can really bring your A game tomorrow for it. Do what you have to do to bring that passion." Anna tells them before they go off for break.

"Wanna meet up and rehearse later?" Austin smirks, really giving a fuck boy look.

"I would never in a million years have sex with you." Victoria says in response as she walks off set.

"We'll see about that."

Victoria rolls her eyes & heads to Mila's trailer.

"Austin really thinks we'll end up fucking." she says to Mila, walking in.

"What? How?"

"Well we have to film that scene tomorrow & he's like 'Wanna rehearse later?' like ew no, I would never. And he's like 'We'll see about that.' being all cocky in shit like ew stop."

"He's so gross."

"Tell me about it." Vic rolls her eyes. "After lunch we have to film the club scene and I'm so not ready to make out with him & dance all sexy."

"I do not blame you. But I'm sure it'll be fun either way."

"Only because I have you to help me through it."

"Awww stop. I love you."

"Love you too. I really don't know what Id do without you."

After lunch, everyone got changed into their club scene outfits & got into the correct hair and makeup, then headed onto set.

"Alright, so we're gonna have the music playing, everyone just dance and groove along. Victoria & Austin, the main focus on you both. I don't care when, but just kiss at some point. Keep it steamy." Anna says before calling action.

The music starts playing, everyone's dancing. Victoria and Austin keep it as steamy as they can, spite their feuding relationship.

Vic has her arms wrapped around his neck, and Austin has his hands on her hip & ass. They rock back & forth to the beat of the music.

"Oh, this is nice- Wait no. Don't fall into his trap Victoria." Vic thought to herself. "He's just being super extra handsy right now to get me to 'rehearse'."

She turns around and Austin pulls her into him. Victoria grinds herself against him. He puts his lips on her neck. She tries to fight enjoying it, but she does, until she gets a flashback to that night where everything went down, which lead her to have a mini panic attack.

"Wait, wait, wait. I need a second. Excuse me." Victoria removes herself from set to go take a breather. Mila follows behind her to make sure she's okay.

"Hey, hey, hey. Are you okay? What happened?" Mila asks her as they go outside.

"I just got a flashback to that night where everything went down, and it just kinda sent me into a panic." Victoria explains to her.

"I'm sorry babe. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, she needs to suck up whatever this is and get back in there. What the hell, Vic?" Austin says coming outside.

"Are you serious right now, Austin?" Victoria asks him. "I wouldn't have panicked if it wasn't for your whore ass."

"What do you mean?" he asks confused.

"This scene was like that night all over again. We danced just like that before you went & fucked things up."

"Again, I'm sorry that I did that. But this is our job, we can't let the past effect us."

"Well, I'm sorry that it effected me because you're a two timing man whore."

"You're so dramatic."

"Can you fucking not right now? And just fuck off? I'm not gonna be able to compose myself if you're just feeding into it."

"Fine. I'll fuck off."

"Good. Bye."

"Anna wants us back in no more than ten minutes." Austin says before heads back inside.

"God, he's such a dick. I don't know if I can handle another few weeks working with him." Vic says to Mila.

"Hey, you'll be okay. You've gotten this far. I know it's hard, but you got this. Don't let this asshole ruin your big break."

"I know, I know. He's just making it so hard. Especially having Eliana around."

"I know. But if he tries shit again, I will fight & lose my job. I don't care. No one messes with my best friend."

"Thanks, Mila. Again, I don't know what I'd do without you."

The girls went back inside & continued to film.

Austin & Victoria we're facing each other, dancing. They kept looking at each others lips, getting ready to go in for the kiss.

"God, those lips are so lucious. NO stop Vic. Don't think like that."

Austin goes in for the kiss, Victoria follows his lead.

"Wow, this is actually an enjoyable kiss because I can't taste Eliana on them. Fuck, he's such a good kisser. NO shut up brain. We are not doing this."

Anna calls cut & we were done for the day.

Austin clears his throat, "Good work, Williams."

"Yeah, uh, same to you Butler."

"Hey, we should probably practice for tomorrow." he says.

"Why? Can't we just wing it?"

"Well, I mean, we'll rehearse it before we film it with the intimacy coordinator but I mean, we should ourselves so we're more prepared."

"No, I know you & I know you'd actually try to bang and that's NOT happening."

"No, we wouldn't."

"Yes we would. If we're rehearsing, it's here on set witu the coordinator. That's it."

"Cmon, Vic. You don't want to be with me?"

"Id rather die than to ever be with you." Vic says, attempting to storm off.

Austin grabs her wrist and pulls her in, & kisses her.

She gets lost in him for a moment before she realizes what's going on.

"Oh my god, Austin. No." she shoves him off of her. "We're not fucking, we're not kissing, we're not doing shit unless it's for this film. You're with Eliana, right? Use her for your fucking & kissing needs, not me."

"Fine then. Our scene will just suck."

"If it sucks, it sucks. I really don't care."

Victoria walks off set & goes to her trailer to grab her things.

"Vic, you ready to go?" Mila pops her head in.

"Yep, let's go." she says, in a passive tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Austin kissed me. Trying to get me to have sex with him to "rehearse" again." she rolls her eyes.

"Ew."

"I know. I cant with him."

The next day on set...

Austin & Victoria meet up with Casey, the intimacy coordinator in a closed office space that's set up as a bedroom.

"Okay, the scene starts with Allison jumping into Jake's arms, kissing very passionately. Jake carries Allison into the bedroom. I was thinking from there, Jake will throw Allison onto the bed before hovering over her, continuing the makeout. Jake will remove Allison's dress leaving her in her underwear, then his shirt comes off, he pulls down his bottoms, her panties come off, and they go at it kind of rough, but passionate. All that sound good?" Casey asks Austin & Vic as she's done explaining the scene.

They both nod their head in agreement, although they don't want to.

"Perfect. I'll have you guys get into your nudity wear stuff. It makes it all look real, without any genitalia touching. Once you guys are ready, we'll go over it, then we'll go to set and shoot."

"Ready to have your mind blown?" Austin asks Victoria all cocky.

"Please, Austin. It's not like we're going to have actual intercourse."

"If you say so."

"God, he's so annoying." she thought to herself.

The actors went off to get prepped and into costume.

Once they we're ready, they went back into the room to go over it.

Victoria jumps into Austin's arms and starts making out with him. He throws her onto the bed as directed, and hovers over her kissing her.

He removes her dress and tosses it to the side, then removes his shirt & tosses it. He pulls his pants down and removes her panties, then "goes inside of her", mimicking the actions. They both make the faces and sounds of pleasure, does whatever feels right for the scene.

"Cut! That was perfect guys. It's a super short scene, but it was great. Let's head off to set and do the exact same thing."

They all go off to set, and do their thing, of course doing the dialogue that leads up to it.

After Anna calls cut, Austin lays down next to Vic. They're both out of breath like they were actually doing it. And they'd be lying to themselves if they weren't turned on by each other right now, which they're hating on themselves for.

"Good job, Butler." Vic says to Austin.

"You too, Williams."

They get up from the bed and put their robes on.

Victoria heads off to her trailer to get dressed and break for lunch.

On Austin's way back to his trailer, he sees something that Victoria tried warning him about, but just brushed to the side, not wanting to believe it. Now that he sees it, he believes it.

"Eliana??" he says, catching her making out with that extra, as they were trying to hide in a corner of a building but it wasn't working out very well.

"Oh my god, Austin! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." Eliana goes on.

"Save it. I should have listened to Victoria. She was right about you. And I should have never kissed you that night. I lost the girl who I had thought was the best I ever met, and now I'm losing the other girl who I thought was the best."

"Austin! Please! I love you."

"No you don't. You never really did, and I know that now. You only wanted me for my looks like Victoria said. It's over Eliana. You can get your stuff out of my trailer after break. Id rather not see you again."

"Fine. If you want to be over, then we'll be over. You weren't that good at sex anyways."

"Whatever, Eliana."

Austin walks away, regretting so many decisions he's made in the past few weeks.

Maybe he should have listened to Victoria. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten with Eliana in the first place.

Only time will tell what will happen next.

—————————————————————

[succubusphan]

Two Man Team - Chapter 10

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, Friends with benefits, mental health issues (mainly anxiety), Slow burn, Dan is a psych student. Canon divergence (the timeline is altered and some things never happened), Slutty Phil, Angst with a happy ending. The fic spans many years.

Author's Note: Written for the OSPBB 2023 @oldschoolpbb. Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual and to my artist Lin @anironsidh.

Edits and the art will be added at some point, we are busy bees.

POSTING EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S COMPLETED.

Total Word Count: 75k ish

Read on Ao3

CHAPTER 10: Wild Horses

The following morning, Noah and Mark made him breakfast and hugged him before leaving for work. Phil smiled at the thought that Mark and Noah sometimes acted like his stand-in parents; he was glad that they never made him feel like a third wheel and that Noah was so wonderful, just accepting their friendship and joining instead of trying to break them apart.

Taking a deep breath, Phil thought about the day ahead. He was not going to check his phone for any sign of Dan because he knew that it would probably take a few days for him to reach out. If he put it into his head that today was the day Dan would text, he would only get anxious. Instead, he went for a morning walk after breakfast, bought lunch and came back home to work on his next video. He considered it for a moment. If Dan really wanted to go on with the project he’d mentioned, it would bring his own sexuality into question, so why not take the opportunity to make a coming out video of his own?

To be fair, Phil wasn’t really in the closet, everyone knew. Or most people knew anyway, he just didn’t announce it. Maybe it was time for a change. 

He grabbed a notebook and started the script titled “Coming Out To You.” It was a bit sassy but it was the truth; Phil wasn’t coming out in general, this was just for his viewers, for them to know a bit more about him, to feel loved and accepted, and to open the door to that conversation. This would come with the added bonus of finally being able to make gay jokes on his channel and it would also probably cost him some sponsors, but if he couldn’t afford to come out with so many subscribers and after 10 years on the platform, what was the point?

He made this script his lifeline, a mental escape from his reality and the imminent wrecking ball to his mental stability that Dan’s text could potentially be. He paused briefly to consider what he would do if Dan backed out of his own project or on wanting to name Phil. He decided that he had made himself to focus on the video so much that he was going to work on it anyway.

It took 3 more days for Dan to contact him. By Sunday, Phil was starting to worry, despite his attempt to avoid thinking about Dan. Maybe the problem was that the script was ready and he had even chosen an outfit to film in. Luckily, just as he was finishing his lunch, Dan texted through Messenger.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Alright,” Phil replied.

“Really? Just like that?”

“That’s what we agreed on when we last spoke and my friends think that I should talk to you.”

“Mark?” Dan asked and Phil could hear the jealous tone even in written form.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Partially. His boyfriend said that we should talk. Mark didn’t comment on it but said that he would break your legs if you hurt me.”

“I see,” Dan replied. “Where would you like to meet?”

“You can come to my flat.”

“Does Mark still live with you? I need my legs.”

“Planning on hurting me?”

“Technically I already have so I am looking out for myself.”

“I like how you used technically right there.”

“I feel like if we continue this conversation in writing it will not end well for me, so please give me your address and let me know when I can come over.”

Phil sent his address and paused for a moment. “You can come over today, any time that works for you.”

“Thank you. I will take a shower and take a taxi.” 

Phil reacted to the message with crazy eyes.

“Don’t react me,” Dan said, making him laugh.

An hour and a half later, the doorbell rang and Phil checked himself in the mirror before opening the door. “Hi,” he said, sounding almost shy.

Dan smiled at him, probably relieved to see that Phil was not immediately angry at him. “Hi,” he said and handed him a Caramel Macchiato from Starbucks. 

Phil looked at his cup and thought back to the endless hours they had shared at Starbucks back in Manchester. “Thank you.”

“I just figured this would make it so you don’t have to keep making us drinks that we forget to drink,” Dan said and stepped inside, looking around already. “This is nice.”

Phil resisted the urge to remind Dan that this was supposed to be their shared flat. He had never sent Dan the link to the ad because he was already distant towards him. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad that YouTube has been good to you.”

He smiled and didn’t comment.

“What?” Dan asked.

“Nothing.”

Dan raised one eyebrow at him. “Really, Lester?”

Phil sighed. “I moved into this apartment in 2013 to take the job at the BBC and paid one year of rent upfront in cash with my savings.”

“Oh, this is the one… I didn’t know. You don’t really show your flat a lot in videos.”

Phil’s lips formed a tiny O as he caught onto that tidbit of information. “So you still watch my videos.”

Dan blushed. “I’ve always been your fan,” he said, and for once, he wasn’t being sarcastic or trying to sound edgy. “Are we going to sit somewhere or are we just going to stand here by the door?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s sit on the sofa and drink these before they go cold.” He took a few sips as they walked for good measure. Phil let Dan sit and joined him on the sofa, taking a spot near him, but leaning back against the armrest to avoid any awkward touching. Besides, from this spot, he could really look at Dan without it being so obvious. His eyes followed the outline of Dan’s nose, his dry lips, his rosy patch and all the way down to his black sequin jacket that was catching the afternoon sun and projecting rainbows around the room. 

“So…” Dan said.

Phil stayed silent and just gave him a look, indicating that he should start.

Dan swallowed and gave a small nod. “I gave your analysis of everything a lot of thought and I couldn’t untangle it alone, so I called my therapist and booked an emergency session, which turned into almost 3 and then I continued on my own,” he said. “I believe you were right. I thought that I had everything fairly processed so this caught me off guard. I was so mad at myself for not seeing it sooner.”

“I’m glad that you agree.”

“This whole situation, meeting you in a random street in London… it brought so many memories and, honestly, so many issues back.” He took a sip of his drink and continued, his eyes looking around the room, avoiding Phil’s eyes. “I thought that I had it together and I liked the life I was living, but then I saw you and - I’m not over you.” He finally looked into Phil’s eyes with an openness that made Phil shiver. “It was so easy to see when I was not focusing on helping other people, when you were no longer just part of my past, so I had a mental breakdown.”

Phil tried not to smile but failed miserably. Even if it amounted to nothing, and even though he might not have wanted to admit it to himself the first time he heard it, he was happy to know that Dan still had feelings for him. It almost sounded too good to be true.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Dan asked, frowning.

“I am saying many things - inside my head.” He sipped on his coffee and set it back on the coffee table.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Fine,” Phil huffed. “I thought that I was over you because I’ve tried my best to not even think about you, but Noah said that it’s obvious that I have not moved on and other things I am not going to repeat. And I realised that he’s right.” He paused, doubting on whether he should really say it but seeing Dan in front of him, nearly holding his breath, made him take that leap of faith. “I had managed to convince myself that everything was fine, but no. Happy?”

“Very,” Dan said with a gorgeous smile. “Do you think we can try again? I would like to see where this goes and if it doesn’t work out, I would still like to stay friends.” He reached out once again, just like he had a few days ago, waiting for Phil’s reaction.

Phil looked at him, hesitating briefly and nodded, taking Dan’s hand and lacing their fingers together before setting their joined hands on his leg. Then, a thought crossed his mind. “What about Sebastian?” he asked. “Isn’t he your boyfriend?” 

“Not anymore. I thought I was happy with him, but there was never a chance that I would choose him over you and he knew that even before me,” Dan said, chewing on his lip for a moment. “He actually broke up with me before I could even think about it.”

“Oh,” Phil said, trying to not sound happy about it.

“He was right to break up with me,” Dan said, downing the rest of his coffee and setting the cup down. “It’s ok. When I came home from the play and he had moved out I felt relief. That’s a horrible thing to say, Phil. But it’s the truth.”

“How long had you been together?”

“Almost a year.”

“Never made it that long with anyone,” Phil blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Really?” Dan frowned.

“They weren’t you,” Phil said, watching Dan’s gleeful smile appear at the comment. “I stopped going out, I stopped hooking up with random guys. At this point, I could almost qualify as a virgin again.”

Dan smirked and his eyes darkened. “I doubt that.”

Phil knew that look well. “Behave,” he said, squeezing Dan’s hand. “We can’t just pick up where we left off. Things don’t work that way. Last time we rushed into it and it got complicated.”

“That’s true but -” Dan pouted.

“No buts. Let’s just hang out and see how we feel about it. See where it goes, if it goes anywhere.”

“Alright,” Dan said, but the air around them was still charged. “Let’s play some games.”

Phil smiled and let out a sigh of relief, he was hanging onto the will to resist Dan’s lustful eyes from a thread. He wanted it too, but not just for a day. He wasn’t going to repeat that mistake. There was still a chance that Dan would freak out again. He reluctantly let go of Dan’s hand. “Mario Kart?”

“Always,” Dan smiled.

Phil turned the console on and reached for his coffee, downing the last third of it.

“You still haven’t finished it?”

“No, you know I forget I’m drinking something and I finish it when I remember it.” He grabbed a cup containing half of his morning coffee and finished it as well just to prove a point. “This was my breakfast.”

“Come on, man!” Dan said. “Get it together!”

Phil winked at him with both eyes, sending Dan into a fit of laughter. Fuck, Phil had missed that sound. The hyena laugh.

To the surprise of no one, Dan won most of the races until Phil decided to slide closer to him and lay partially against him. Slowly but surely, Dan started to shift his attention from the game towards Phil, giving him little touches, playing with his hair and eventually, just pulling him to sit on his lap. That was the moment they dropped the controllers and just put on a random Studio Ghibli movie. 

Dan was fully enjoying messing with Phil’s hair, giving him odd hairdos. He ran his fingers through it, pushing it into a quiff. “I like your hair pushed back.”

“Did you just quote Regina George to me?”

Dan barked out a laugh. “I think I did.”

“I know you did,” Phil said, poking Dan’s tummy. It was so soft. Phil wanted to lift his T-shirt and look at it.

“You look so gorgeous, Phil,” Dan mumbled. “I hope you don’t mind me saying it. You were always hot but right now you’re just stunning. I can’t cope with that.”

“Me?” Phil said and paused. If he told Dan what he was thinking about his body, things were going to get out of hand, so he reformulated. “Your curly hair suits you so well and your back looks so good too. You look so strong now.”

“Thanks, I think I finally hit puberty,” Dan laughed. “Do you really like my hair like this?”

Phil nodded. “It’s perfect. So pretty,” he said looking at Dan over his shoulder.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s frame and dropped a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

Phil pressed his back to Dan’s chest and dropped his head back just so, their breaths mixing together as they got lost in each other’s eyes, the moment held them captive. Phil swallowed and cleared his throat, giving him a wide smile before looking away. It was not time yet. “How is your video idea coming along?” he asked instead.

“I paused it until we could discuss it again.”

“I like it a lot. I started a script of my own.”

“Oh?”

Phil finally got up from Dan’s lap and went in search of his notebook. He found it laying on his bed, uncapped pen at its side and everything. No, there was not a blue dot on his sheets, thank you for asking. “Here,” he said, handing it over to Dan.

Dan’s eyes widened when he read the title but he kept going, laughing here and there until he reached the end and looked up at Phil. “I love it. It’s much more detailed than your usual draft. Or - more detailed than what you used to write long ago.”

“I still draft the same way, it’s just for this project. I want to say the right thing and keep it brief, you know?”

Dan nodded. “I was thinking about hiring an editor, some are not as expensive as I’d thought. And for visuals… Do you remember Hector from Shittywatercolour? The one who made illustrations of us back in the day? I contacted him and can you believe that he agreed to do some illustrations for it?” He let out a deep sigh and shook his head, twirling a paper napkin between his fingers. “There are almost no people following me anymore, I’m below a million, so this is just for me. I need this video, or a part of me will always feel inside the closet no matter what  I do.”

“ I understand,” Phil said. “Are you scared of your family’s reaction?”

Dan shook his head. “I emailed them last week.”

“What?”

“I kept backing out so one day I just sent them all an email. Everyone was cool except for my dad, so I cut him out of my life. No surprise there. Nana and Popsie said that it’s ok as long as I’m happy but I think they don’t get it. Hopefully they will soon so that I can flaunt you at family gatherings and vacations.”

“Really?” Phil asked. He could almost picture that, but Dan was getting a bit ahead of himself.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “For now, I would like to flaunt you in a few weeks, if you’d like to go see my play. It’s called ‘Family Disaster’ and it’s about a family crumbling as one of its members spirals. The narrator is the person spiralling so things get a bit crazy and abstract at times.”

“Sounds interesting,” Phil said. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Philly,” Dan said, kissing his cheek quickly.

Phil felt his heart grow twice its size inside his chest just from hearing Dan calling him Philly again.

----

Phil both loved and hated the fact that he and Dan were so compatible, now maybe even more so than before. Having grown as individuals had given them a sort of new perspective on life, yet their opinions, their humour and even their flirting had followed the same path. It was almost as if they were soulmates, just as Dan had said in the past, despite insisting that he didn't believe in any of that.

In the following weeks, proofreading and reworking Dan’s script for his “June Video” was easily overtaking his life. Dan’s passion was just that infectious and it seeped into Phil’s soul, making him even more excited over his own coming out video. At first, he didn’t want to show Dan his work because they were very different videos but Dan was so eager to see it that Phil just couldn’t deny him. 

“So you’re filming it literally inside the closet,” Dan snorted. 

“I thought the old-time viewers would appreciate the irony,” Phil said with a smirk. 

Dan leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek. “I do appreciate it, thank you for thinking about my preferences.”

“Dork.” Phil felt himself blush and couldn��t help but smile like an idiot. It was all so new yet so familiar. They were officially doing a take two on their friendship but after some debating, they decided that certain things were allowed, such as hugging, cuddling and oftentimes, hand-holding, although not in public. “I was thinking, do you think it’s still alright for me to go see your play? I mean, if we are trying to be low-key about it.”

“I doubt that anyone we know will go see it and actually notice you in the crowd,” Dan said. “But if you feel unsure about it you don’t have to go. We can totally skip that and I can come over after, if you let me have a shower though; I’ll be a sweaty boy.”

“No, it’s not that I’m unsure about it,” Phil rushed to reassure Dan. “It’s just that-” he stopped himself, not wanting to plant the seed in Dan’s mind.

“What? You can tell me,” Dan said softly.

Phil knew he would confess all his secrets to Dan if he asked in that tone. He sounded calm, open, honest, ready to discuss things maturely and willing to listen carefully. “I am a bit hesitant because… I fear that you will freak out if someone realises I’m there, and I don’t want that to happen. I want to avoid any setbacks.”

Dan nodded. “I understand, but I don’t think I will. I know that the chance always exists but I know the chance exists, but even if it were to happen, I’m ready.”

Phil pulled him into a tight hug and smiled widely, slowly swaying from side to side, taking his time to let Dan know how proud of him he was without a single word. He pressed a kiss to Dan’s shoulder. “Look for me in the audience.”

“I never stopped looking,” Dan whispered.

---

When the day for Dan’s last show came, and with the support of his friends, Phil was ready to watch the play. He, along with Mark and Noah, sneaked almost last to a decent sized theatre and took their seats in the gallery, waiting for Dan to make an appearance. 

Phil was in awe, his eyes fixated on Dan as he did such an amazing job of fleshing out his character's emotions, putting his entire body into it and not only relying on the dialogue. It was a sad play but it had a hopeful ending as ‘Tom’ underwent treatment for his mental disorder, which had gone unnamed the entire play and the family sat down to eat in a much calmer way, the lighting brighter, reminiscing of a summer afternoon in contrast to the dark and moody ambient from before.

The lights were on and the entire cast came out to bow for their audience. Phil stood and joined the crowd in the final applause. Only then did he tear his eyes away from Dan and saw Noah and Mark at his side, clapping and giving him a knowing look. 

Looking back to the stage, Phil made eye contact with Dan, who winked at him and made a head incline. Phil smiled, feeling as if the butterflies in his stomach were going to fly out of his mouth at any given moment.

Noah leaned closer. “I liked the idea of going out to dinner and finally meeting Dan but it looks like you might want some privacy.”

Phil raised one eyebrow at him and blushed but didn’t address the comment. “We can go out to dinner as we agreed.”

“Please, he has managed to sneak looks your way the entire time,” Mark said. “We can go out some other time, I’m sure he’ll stick around.”

“Really?” Phil asked. “I thought I was imagining it.”

“No, it was obvious if you knew what to look for. He was smart about it,” Noah said. “He’s a good actor.”

Phil nodded proudly. “He was a theatre kid.”

“That makes sense,” Noah said. “Well, we’ll see you another time. Keep us updated.”

Mark wrapped his arms around Noah, setting his chin on his shoulder happily. “Remind him what I said. He better be good to you.”

“Shush,” Phil said, rolling his eyes. He looked down at the stage and found Dan still staring at him with a huge smile.

----

Phil stayed in his seat until most people had left the theatre and only then went in search of  Dan at the back entrance. He whispered a brief hello and grabbed Phil’s hand, catching him by surprise, and led him to a taxi. Once they were sitting inside, Dan just blurted Phil’s address and turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Is that alright? Sorry, I’m just tired and since your friends left I figured we could stay in.”

“Of course. Pizza and Mario Kart sound good?”

Dan let out a breathy laugh. “You know me so well,” he said, wrapping one arm around Phil’s frame.

Letting his head rest on Dan’s shoulder, Phil relaxed and kept thinking about what he’d seen on stage. Dan was born to be in the spotlight, it’s where he looked more comfortable and at peace. 

“What did you think of it?” Dan asked.

“You were amazing and the play was very interesting. It was very creative.”

“Hmm, Is that a good thing?”

“It is. I could tell that you put some of your psych knowledge into it. It was a nice metaphor on mental health and the impact it has on the person and their family.”

Dan nodded happily and stared straight ahead. “Can I still take that shower?”

“Sure,” Phil said, begging his mind to stop in its tracks. He looked at a droplet of sweat, or perhaps it was water, that fell from Dan’s hair and ran down his neck, disappearing under his white shirt.

Dan pinched Phil’s leg when he tried to pay the taxi, paying it himself instead and helping Phil out of the car. Once they were in the flat, Dan pulled him into a tight hug and stared into his soul for a moment before pressing their lips together. The fireworks igniting in Phil’s body were threatening with setting him on fire. They moved slowly, tentatively, but Phil could feel Dan’s love for him in every touch of their lips, in every sigh, in the way Dan’s hand rested on his neck softly. 

Dan was relentless and it was starting to affect Phil, the heat rising within him by the second. It was too soon for that. Phil stepped away and smiled when he caught Dan’s lips chasing after him. “You can use anything from my closet, the shower is down the hall.”

“Sorry,” Dan mumbled, blushing slightly and running upstairs, presumably to Phil’s bedroom in search of clothes. 

Phil pulled his phone out and called Domino’s ordering what used to be their usual. He then went to the living room to set the console and the plates before sitting on the couch for a bit. He was startled by a hand on his shoulder but relaxed when he opened his eyes and saw Dan, his hair still dripping from the shower, wearing his cookie monster pyjama pants and his York hoodie. That pulled at his heartstrings; Dan had always loved to wear that hoodie. “Did I fall asleep?”

“You did,” Dan laughed and pointed at the pizza on the coffee table.

“Fuck, I missed the doorbell?” Phil mumbled.

“It’s fine, it was a funny interaction with the delivery guy. I came out in a towel.”

“You went all the way down in a towel?” Phil asked with wide eyes. 

“No! Oh my god!” Dan snorted. “I buzzed him in and got the door here. Still an unsettling view for the poor guy though.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Unsettling, right.” He paused. “Have you considered being a model?”

“Are you serious? I could never! I look like a potato.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous!”

“I don’t see it,” said Dan and Phil was sad to look into his eyes and realise that he still believed that. “Don’t give me that face,” he said.

“I just think you’re so beautiful and I wish you could see it. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,” Phil said, still trying to find the right words.

“I’m working on it... Baby steps,” Dan said and shoved him to the side unceremoniously to fit at his side. 

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

Phil poked his side and smiled at Dan’s childishness. As the night progressed, they melted deeper and deeper into the couch until Phil checked his phone and his stomach dropped at the amount of Twitter notifications. He hadn’t posted anything for a few days, this couldn’t be good news.

“Is this 2012? My 13 year old self is crying tears of joy! My ship is sailing! @amazingphil @danielhowell” Attached to the tweet were three pictures. One taken from Phil’s back as he watched Dan on stage, one zoomed in from across the street as Dan guided him to the taxi and another at the first stoplight where Dan had already settled his arm on Phil’s shoulder.

[theoncomingdoo-dah]

current wip list!

(mulifandom/slightly nsfw)

11/Rose

Doctor Who

no name for this one yet, heavily inspired by a conversation with one of my partners.

dorks being dorks

trying on hats, outfits, playing around in the TARDIS wardrobe

Rose ends up with the Doctor's stetson hat.

"You do know what it means when you wear someone else's cowboy hat, don't you?"

"Well, it means the person who owns the hat, owns you."

Mario/Peach

...The Mario movie obvs

(this won't be NSFW, just fluffy)

>Mario is on a lunch break.

>Luigi is too. But he's somewhere else in the castle. (background bowluigi real?)

>Mario wasn't expecting to see Peach in the kitchen and was going to grab something out of the fridge. But he's not at all upset that she's there. He's happy to see her!

>Peach is happy to see him too, she's baking a cake!

>Mario is gonna teach Peach to make cannolis and he talks about his family (and brother and yes they mention Luigi being kinda distant and wandering off in the castle. background bowluigi more than likely REAL)

(don't worship me, I'd make a terrible god)

Nine/Rose

Doctor Who

Really fluffy smut with established Ninerose. And someone figures out he has a praise kink~~

John/Cortana

Halo

Things between John and Cortana are seeming to escalate. They've become partners, on and off the battlefield.

And since neither of them can touch the other, it's mostly been just flirting and teasing. (Mostly on Cortanas part.) and while the Chief isn't bothered, most of the time, things are starting to get a bit urgent.

When he thinks he's alone one night, he tries to tend to himself before getting interrupted by a cheeky little hologram next to his bunk.

She's not bothered, but has an idea.

Through the neural link, the one in which she can control his actions, she attempts to control what his hands are doing. But in the process they realize that while using the neural link, she can feel what he's feeling.

Which makes things harder to control, but may urge on John's more mischievous side.

Timepetals

Doctor Who

(literal translation: Your Heat. Based on a song of the same name)

So the fic could be in the form of journal entries from Rose's perspective. But they're more like letters to the Doctor. 

Basically how she's been thinking about him alot, reminiscing. She mentions John and how they're getting on. 

How they start dating after things were awkward for a bit.

How they eventually get married. 

How they're gonna try for a kid.

How it fails.

And fails.

...and fails.

Then they find out that John is dying. And she isn't aging. 

And how she hates him (the Doctor) and what he did. But she really doesn't and it hurts that she can't. 

12/Rose

Doctor Who

After regeneration the (12th) Doctor begins to notice that Rose is looking at him…differently.

He's not sure what to think of it at first, but insecurities (and a mid life crisis) eventually convince him that maybe Rose isn't attracted to him anymore.

The thoughts stick with him until one night (after a rigorous adventure) Rose falls asleep in the jump-seat. He makes to placing his coat on his companion's shoulders, but when a finger grazes Rose's skin and he gets a quick peek into her thoughts,

He sees a glimpse into Rose's thoughts, and sees that she's definitely still attracted to him, but hasn't voiced it.

And when he eventually gets his chance, he'll get to remind his beloved that she's married to a literal mind reader, and he's more than willing to make those dreams into reality.

Nine

Doctor Who

Post Parting of Ways but in the worst of ways.

Rose doesn't come back. But the TARDIS does.

The Doctor runs from the Game Station and flips the switch. Leaving his greatest nemesis and his new companion behind.

The only question is.

What now?

JackNineRose

Doctor Who

it involves alien drugs and they're all partaking in them. Gonna have to think of name and what exactly it does.

(maybe it's an aphrodisiac?)

Either way, Jack is the one procures them, Rose is curious, the Doctor is wary (seems he's aware of the drug and it's effects. )

At this point in their "relationship", Jack and Rose are further along. (they're at least kissing)

But it's Jack's goal to get Nine and Rose together. (He wants to see them happy together! And they're both pussyfooting around and won't just admit they love each other!)

So Jack gives them a bit of *encouragement*.

Stardust when smoked there's glittery specks in the smoke and when you take it orally, it can cause the sweat to be glittery.

Like you look like you went to rave, and you're covered in the glitter.

11/Rose

Doctor Who

Currently working on this one! 11 ends up finding out that he's keen to try bondage. And Rose obliges.

Vincent/Rin

Catherine

first time shenanigans?

rin does way too much research?

vincent has watched gay porn before?

I make rin like the perfect combination between innocent and overly curious?

but mostly cute like he's REALLY cute?

it's overwhelming for the boy. 

I mean Vincent

he's not the best at topping but he'll give it a go

Wicked Game

12/Rose

Doctor Who

12rose song fic. 

Involves dancing and listening to a playlist of.songs (have to make the playlist!)

things get spicy after they kiss a bunch but they take their time with each other. It's a very shaky and hesitant experience. (maybe even their first time (in this incarnation at least?)

And basically this fic plays around with the whole "twelve doesn't like to be vulnerable or touched and that's why he tops" kinda fic

[taraiswriting]

Brave

It would have taken everything in me not to go. That would've been brave. The optimism, the belief in myself, that it would have taken, to have not showed up here today. To have done a Juno, now, that would've really taken something. 

It doesn’t feel brave to be here. But I am. Mostly because I may as well be, having already missed several days of work to see this person, sign that form, confirm it with a doctor. I spent a whole lunch break frantically searching for a weighing scale on the high street to phone back the nurse with my BMI score (a communal one, in a Boots or something, because I didn’t have a tenner to spend on buying one outright). I could have taken a guess, but I needed to phone back the nurse with an accurate number, before I could get to the next stage. Apparently. For some reason.

How sure I was at the beginning, and yet, how many times I'd been forcibly questioned to stop and really think about it. The potential side effects. The time I was running late and took a wrong turn on my way to the clinic and came across a huge Catholic church, just as the bells rang for noon. The doctor's recommendation to fit a coil post-procedure, that would last a whole fucking 10 years, lest I make such a stupid mistake again (I felt their judgement, I felt them thinking, ‘likely’).

For the whole three months that I was jumping through these hoops, throwing up most mornings (and afternoons), I was interning at a pregnancy website, sending out week-by-week updates to (presumably happily) expectant mothers as to the size and status of their foetuses. The size of a pea. A grape. I think I got to chocolate biscuit before the status of mine ceased to matter. I thought about that for years after, sometimes hovering a biscuit over my belly before nibbling the edge with wobbly lips. 

So, really, in a way the bravest thing I’ve ever done was show up that day and go through with it. As I waited in a curtained-off cubicle in my paper blue gown, I quivered so hard to the point where my legs couldn't stay planted on the shiny laminate floor. I had the ridiculous thought that my outfit made me look like the Virgin Mary, but was too conflicted to see the funny side at the time. I squeezed my damp eyelashes together and focussed on the nurse’s conversation outside, telling her colleague about how sweet the pineapple was on her recent holiday to Sri Lanka. 

Or maybe the bravest thing I've done is tell you this now. Especially this next bit. I was then escorted into the operating room. ‘I'm So Excited’ by The Pointer Sisters was playing on the radio as the anasthetic kicked in. I'm about to lose control and I think I like it. 

It was all brave, really, all of it. 

[sqeca]

Red, blue, and white. Now what color is this? #イロハのキモチ

The translation's not spot-on 'cause there are some lines that got run through google translate

4 February 2023

Hello. This is Iroha Okuda 🦙. 　 Yesterday was Setsubun, right? Did you eat Ehōmaki? I ate it up all without saying a word! I heard that wishes come true...! Good! 　 Nagi and I were talking yesterday. I asked her, "What's the direction for this year? "Ummm, south, north, south, north, south..." Where is it? She said, "Where is that? LOL. 　 We were talking about eating it facing straight up, but when we ate it, we did eat it facing south-southeast! ✌🏻 　 　 By the way, I went to Shibuya TSUTAYA a few days ago.

On the 1st floor, there was a big panel of Nogizaka VOL.03, and on the 2nd floor, there was an exhibition of Shin Nogizaka Star Tanjō! I was so impressed!

I tried to take a picture with the panel, but this was the best I could do...

Shin Nogizaka Star Tanjō! Thank you for watching so much.

The next episode will be the last one...

40 episodes went by so fast! 　 Those of you who have been watching the show may already know that this is the first time for me to write a song for the show.

I tried my hand at "songwriting" for the first time! 　 It's something I've always dreamed of doing.

I was finally able to give it shape.

I may not be the best at it, but I put a lot of what I love and what I am passionate about into it! 　 (I'll write another blog post after the broadcast.) 　 I'm so glad I was able to make so many of my dreams come true at this event. 　 Shin Nogizaka Star Tanjō! will be aired on NTV on Mondays from 1:29 am to 1:59 am.

I hope you will watch us till the end!

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❔ Questions Corner ❔

Q: what do you want to do in the spring? → Make my own lunch and have a picnic🍙.

Q: I sometimes think negatively, but how can I think positively? → I also think negative at times, but the opposite of negative is positive! Think the opposite! I also hear that looking down makes me think dark thoughts, so I look up 🙃

Q: What kind of manjuu do you like best? → Anman (red bean paste) by far! I liked to stop by the konbini after school and eat it on the way home…

Q: Which 5th generation members have you had fun with recently? → Aya and I went to see "Suzume no Domekimari"!

Q: What is the first thing you do when you get home? → Wash my hands, gargle, and listen to the radio!

Q: Do you have a memory of the best time in your high school life? → Going out with my friends after school to sing karaoke, club activities, and memorizing English words together during lunch break! I also like listening to music while eating my mom's lunch, and I love my teachers! I'm sure everything will be a great memory, so let's have fun 🎶!

Q: I'd like to see your standby screen! → A picture of Naomi Watanabe and Mickey holding hands. 🤳🏻

Q: Iro-chan, are you the type of person who remembers the dreams you have while sleeping? → I'll look it up on my dream book as soon as I remember it, so I'll remember it when I see it in my history! Haha!

Q: What emoticons and pictograms do you use most often? →😭✨🎶🙇🏻♀️🧡😌🦙(~_~;)

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📢News

We're pleased to have you in the March 2023 edition of B.L.T! The theme of this edition is "Imagination".

On the cover is Kubo Shiori.

It's on sale now, check it out! 🌈

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Iroha's view

Today's picture is here.

These raccoons I met in Arashiyama, Kyoto.

They are so cute looking up at each other 😏

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Finally, thank you for the online meet and greet today. It was a pleasure to talk to you so much~!

I was in a paired lane with Nagi, so we matched for the last part, ponytail!

Ah, the answer to the quiz in the title!

It was the color of my outfit today. I don't know!" I'm not going to say "I don't know! 　 I'd like to end by saying that I hope you'll come back to talk to me again! See you soon! 　 Iroha