Hyperfixation Hell

◆New hyperfixation each month◆

[enternallyvoid]

☆Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader☆

Not proofread, writing this at like 1:30 am whilst high on melatonin. Very self indulgent fic. Logan is very sweet because I need comfort. No gendered language used towards reader.

You lay quietly on your side, eyes fixated on the wall in front of you. Although your eyes grew heavy, sleep effortlessly evaded you, like an old ex that moved on way before you did. The warmth off of Logan's body did little to comfort you tonight, for your mind was far too occupied with your thoughts.

Nights always brought you an odd sadness along with them. It's as if the moon shares its sorrows with you as to not weep alone. It wasn’t rare that you found yourself just like this, laying awake in bed far past midnight, wondering why you were even here.

Your mind drifted off to the man (supposedly) sleeping soundly next to you. You'd be surprised if he truly was fully asleep, as he seldom was. He too was often plagued by the night's sadness, but tonight, he seemed to have avoided this curse. You thought of every mission you'd screwed up, every argument you'd ever had, every time you failed to be there for him when he most needed it. You had begun to feel as though you weren't worthy of being a part of the X-Men, of being his. What had you really done to earn his love, exactly? All you ever did was cause him more problems than he already had. You weren't worth the trouble, and yet still he put up with you. It was beyond you.

Without realizing, you'd begun to weep. Not loudly, no, in fact the average person may not have even been able to hear it over the sound of the fan whirring calmly across the room. However, it didn't go unnoticed by Logan, who stirred lightly at the noise. He rolled over to face you, gently reaching a hand out towards you.

"Hey, hey," he called out quietly, his voice a bit more gravelly than usual, "what's wrong sweetheart?"

You quickly cleared your throat, scrambling to wipe the tears from your eyes. "S-sorry, did I wake you?" you whispered.

"No, I can't sleep," Logan answered. He shuffled closer to you until his chest was flat against your back. "Now tell me, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing. I'm just...thinking," you lied, hoping he wouldn't catch onto the way your voice lightly trembled.

He gently carresed your arm where his hand rested before placing a kiss to your temple. "About?" He urged.

"Nothing. Just go to sleep Logan."

Logan shook his head in response. "You know I can't do that knowing you're crying, darlin'. Talk to me, please."

You sighed in defeat. "Why do you love me?"

He seemed a bit taken aback by the sudden question at first, but then he chuckled. "You want specifics? Hell, everything about you's a reason. The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you like, the way that pretty voice of yours sounds saying my name, your smile, the weird little things you do when you get excited—I could go on forever sweetheart. Why you asking?"

"I feel like I'm just a burden to you, Lo," you admitted finally after several seconds of silence. Tears began to flow again before you could stop them.

"Where the hell did you get that idea? Honey, you're the best damn thing to happen to me," he took ahold of your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "You couldn't be farther from a burden."

For some reason, hearing that only made you sob harder.

"C'mere, hon," he cooed, pulling you closer to that you laid flat on his chest. His hands quickly found their way to your hair, gently brushing his fingers through them mindlessly (if you're bald, im sorry). His other hand gripped your chin, guiding your face to look at him. He stared into your eyes with his own gorgeous blue ones, a look of love you'd never quite seen swirling around in them like smoke in a closed off room. He kissed you, slowly, but not lustfully, firmly, but not rough. Just...lovingly. A kind of love the both of you had convinced yourselves that you weren't worthy of. As he broke the kiss, his eyes failed to leave yours, his thumb tracing gentle shapes into the soft flesh of your cheek. Then quietly, he whispered, "I love you, baby, more than anything in this world."

"More than your bike?" you mumbled against his chest, earning an amused chuckle.

"Yes, even more than my bike. Get some rest, okay?"

You nodded, unable to vocally reply as sleep finally gave up the battle, no longer choosing to avoid you. You felt a bit better. Maybe you are worth being loved after all. Maybe just because you fail to see your own worth doesn't mean that it isn't there. Maybe none of that even matters. Maybe all that matters is here, right now, in this very moment, you are loved, because you deserve to be.

im gonna wake up in the morning and absolutely hate this bro😭😭

[enternallyvoid]

Hello to my very few followers. I apologize for not posting in a while. I just don't have the motivation to write. I haven't been in a good mental state as of late. In all honesty I've been hella depressed. I'll try to post again soon tho.

[enternallyvoid]

★Random Wesker Headcanons★

• He's ambidextrous—prefers to use his right hand though.

• He really loves sweets but refuses to tell anyone. Was denied them as a child.

• Has spent hours trying to get that one specific hair to stay down but it literally wont; has nearly brought him to tears.

• Drinks his coffee black (despite his sweettooth). He bitterness keeps him grounded. Prefers tea over coffee, though.

• Probably Bisexual, but doesn't bother with labels

• Doesn't care for pets—they take up valuable time that he could spend working—but if he had to choose one, he'd have a cat.

• He and William explored each other's bodies.

• Has like 50 pairs of the exact same sunglasses.

• On the rare occasion he does listen to music, mostly listens to classical, but he does have a soft spot for 80s rock.

• Had a mullet when he was a teen because he thought it made him look cool. Is SUPER embarrassed about it and has burned any picture/evidence of it in existence.

• Wears sunglasses not only because they give him aura, but his eyes are also just super sensitive. Pre-T, his eyes were hella light, and Post-T his eyes glow, so he most likely has a very high sensitivity to light.

• Hates the beach. Not a big fan of swimming in general.

• For whatever reason, the T-virus made him almost carnivorous, so he eats a lot of meat.

• His favorite color is blue, specially navy blue.

• Owns a shit ton of colognes and perfumes. They last him forever because he can't wear a lot at a time, thanks to his hyper-sensitive smell.

• Detests smoking of any kind, sees it as disgusting and idiotic. Not a big fan of alcohol outside of wine either.

• Has a praise kink, receiving ofc

• Has no idea Jake exists

• Secretly kind of misses being the STARS captain, but he won't admit that to anyone, not even himself.

• Hates sodas. He tried to enjoy them, but they just taste gross to him.

• Has a very strict hair routine to make up for all of that hair gel he slathers in his hair every day.

• Sleeps perfectly flat on his stomach with his arms to his side. (I also like the idea of him sleeping like a little Victorian boy)

might add more eventually

[enternallyvoid]

You dont get a summary today

A/N: idk, I was bored and im in love with RE1 Wesker. Not really proofread, I'm too lazy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You'd been a member of S.T.A.R.S for a few months now.

You were a medic. They were in search of another, and you just so happened to be avaliable. You were a member of the Alpha Team. This meant you worked under none other than Albert Wesker.

He was...threatening, for lack of a better word. He wasn’t exactly mean, but he was blunt, cold and distant. Even though you'd spent so much time with him, you knew next to nothing about him. He kept up these impenetrable icy walls between himself and everyone around him. However, even so, he was charming in his own way. He was gorgeous, for one, almost angelically so. His jaw was sharp, his lips thin but oh-so-perfectly shaped. He was perfectly built, like he was meticulously sculpted by the gods themselves. His eyes were always hidden behind his shades, but you were pretty sure they were blue. His voice was smooth like silk.

Your mind couldn't help but drift off every now and then to thoughts about him. You wondered so much about him. What did he look like with his hair down? What did he wear when he wasn’t at work? Why did he always wear those sunglasses? What would his lips feel against yours—you cursed yourself for having those thoughts. He was your Captain. You shouldn't think such things about him! But who could blame you when he looked like that

Unbeknownst to you, though, Wesker had taken a liking to you as well. He had been acting...odd towards you, recently. You hadn't noticed, but everyone else had.

He'd been more friendly to you as of late. He began making small-talk with you, something he'd never bothered to do previously. He'd tell you good morning or good evening every day when you arrived at work. He remembered how you liked your coffee, your favorite color, your favorite show, the name of your pet(s). As time went on, the small-talk evolved into conversation—conversation meaning him info dumping to you about viruses and other things along those lines. You'd find bags of your favorite candy sitting in your desk. If you ever questioned him about it, he'd shrug and act oblivious. He'd call you into his office often to ask for updates on your reports, and sometimes he'd even seek you out at your desk. You'd noticed him staring at you from a distance every so often. He never looked away when you noticed, he'd just continue staring like it was the most casual thing in the world. On top of everything, he'd been getting...touchy. It wasn’t anything too crazy, just occasional brushes against your shoulder, gently touching your wrist to get your attention. While you didn't notice, everyone else certainly did. Chris and Jill had taken it upon themselves to tease you mercilessly about it. You denied it like your life depended on it. You were sure it didn't mean anything. They were just making something out of nothing. Wesker didn't feel anything towards you.

You were working overtime tonight. Wesker needed you to finish the reports regarding today's mission. You wondered why it had to be you specifically, but you didn't question it. It was just you and Wesker in the precinct. He sat in his office, doing whatever it was that he did in his office, whilst you filled out the reports. You began to grow tired, so you got up to make yourself a cup of coffee.

You stood there, groggily waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. You tapped your foot impatiently. You were honestly ready to just get this over with—

"[Name]," the sound of Wesker's voice suddenly behind you startled you. You'd think you'd be able to hear someone of his stature walking around, but no. He had this special ability to walk around unnaturally silently.

"Oh, Captain! Is there uh...something I can help you with?" You awkwardly laughed.

Wesker stayed silent for a moment. He stared at you, seemingly thinking about something.

"How are the reports coming along, dear?" Wesker questioned softly. He always used some sort of pet name when talking to you.

"Good," you answered, turning to pour yourself a cup of coffee. You offered some to Wesker, but he shook his head no. "Y'know this feels kind of weird."

"What feels weird?"

"Being here alone. I'm so used to the others running around here. The silence feels almost foreign," you chuckled.

The corner of Wesker's mouth lifted a fraction in amusement. "I suppose it is."

You took a sip of your coffee, wincing as you quickly discovered it was still too hot to drink. "Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to check in on you, dear," Wesker admitted.

The atmosphere was heavy with something you couldn't quite place. Wesker stood so close that you could faintly smell his cologne lingering on his skin. You had to tilt your head up a bit to look at him in the eye—or shades, rather. The light above casted shadows across the sharp planes of his face, highlighting his features. You always admired the way he looked in that uniform, the way it stretched so beautifully across those broad shoulders of his. His sleeves were rolled up just above his elbows, revealing his muscular arms beneath. God, his arms looked so strong. You wondered what they would feel like wrapped around you. Wesker took a step forward, decreasing the space between the two of you. Neither of you said anything. The silence was thick, and his proximity was near suffocating. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. You quietly muttered his name, the word tasting sweet on your tongue. Slowly—cautiously—you reached towards Wesker's face, and removed his sunglasses. Much to your surprise, he didn't stop you. His eyes were breath-taking. He stared so intensely into your eyes that it made you squirm. There was so much emotion swirling within those icy pools, something you never expected to see from Wesker of all people.

"[Name]..." he sighed quietly. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek gently. He leaned in so close that his nose brushed against yours. "May I?"

You swallowed hard, before nodding.

The first kiss was gentle, almost as if he was afraid that you'd shatter like glass. His lips were soft, and he tasted faintly of old coffee with the hint of something sweeter. His hand slipped from your cheek to rest on your hip instead. Meanwhile, you wrapped your arms around his neck. The second kiss was a bit more intense. He pressed his lips harder against yours, tilting his head to get a better angle. He let out a shaky breath through his nose, his grip on your hip tightening.

Eventually (unfortunately), you had to pull away for air. He pressed his forehead against yours, panting lightly.

"Captain..." You panted. "I....I still need to finish the reports."

"Go home, my dear. I'll handle them," Wesker cooed. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss to yourforehead. "Get some rest."

"Oh, uh, okay?"

Wesker just...told you you didn't have to work? Why was that more shocking to you than him kissing you?? You begrudgingly slipped away from his grasp, mourning his warmth. You began to leave, but stopped yourself. You turned back and placed one last kiss to his lips.

"Goodnight, Captain," you whispered.

Wesker chuckled. "Goodnight, my dear."

[enternallyvoid]

Join Me

Plot: Nearly two years after Wesker's supposed death, he pays you a visit.

a/n: a bit of making out but no smut, gender neutral reader, reader has a Biology degree for the sake of plot, lazily proofread, possibly slightly OOC(?). Takes place a bit before RE4. ts is slightly inspired by another fanfic i read, but i cant remember who wrote it.

Memories of the past swirled within your head as you stared blankly up at the ceiling.

"You're lying,"

You couldn't believe it. You wouldn't believe it. It couldn't be true.

"Wesker, tell them it isn't true!"

"Oh, but it is, my dear," Wesker's voice was devoid of any emotion, matching the blank expression plastered on his face.

You trembled, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "How could you? We trusted you—I trusted you!"

He raised his gun, pointed it at you, and spoke,"It's just the way of the world, dear. I told you to stay at the station for a reason. It's a shame I have to do this. I really did like you."

"How much of this was a lie?" You cried, "How much of this did you fake? Did you ever really lo—"

Wesker tensed as the last word fell from your mouth. His finger flexed on the trigger, but before the bullet could hit you, you were shoved out of the way.

Wesker died that night. You'd never forget it. You'd never forget the pain that swallowed you whole, the pain that lingered even to this day. You still remembered the way your stomach dropped as soon as you heard the news; you thought you were going to puke that very moment.

You were a fool. You allowed yourself to fall for him, and you were even stupider to believe he could ever love you back. He was different when you were in private. He was softer, practically clinging to you like you'd dissappear if he let go. You believed you were special, that you actually meant something to him, but you knew better now. You now knew that it was all just a means of manipulating you. You wanted to hate him. He was a murderer, he betrayed S.T.A.R.S, he betrayed you. He was a cruel, cold hearted excuse of a man. You should hate him...but you couldn't. You loved him. Nothing could change that.

After his death, you left law enforcement entirely. You moved houses, got a job as a scientist—finally putting that biology degree of yours to use. It was a far less dangerous job than your previous one, and it took enough focus to get your mind off of Wesker, even just for a little while. You mostly cut contact with Chris and Jill. You wanted nothing to do with S.T.A.R.S. You'd rather just forget about its existence entirely. You felt bad, but it hurt too much to think about it.

It had been a year and a half since Wesker's death. You were laying peacefully in your bed, almost asleep, when you heard an odd noise downstairs. It almost sounded like your front door swinging open. You lived alone, and no one knew where you lived. You jumped out of bed, retrieving your gun from beneath your bed. Despite leaving the force, you remained armed just in case you needed to defend yourself. You crept downstairs as quiet as a mouse, your gun poised in case you had to shoot. As you crept downstairs, you could see that someone had turned the lamp on in your living room, which you remembered turning off before going to bed. In the middle of the room stood...

You gasped.

No, no that can't be right. Your eyes were playing tricks on you.

"Albert?" the word escaped your lips before you could stop it.

He turned his head ever so slightly.

"Nice place you have here," Wesker hummed.

"How are you...how did you...but you died, I...I saw you!" you stumbled over your words.

Wesker walked over to where you stood. He wore a dark turtleneck sweater beneath a long black coat. He stood a bit taller than what you remembered. Maybe it was his boots, or maybe you had just forgotten how tall he really was. Wesker said nothing. He reached a hand towards your face.

You flinched, pulling away from him. "Don't." His hand twitched before returning to his side. "Why are you here? How the hell did you find this place?"

"You look good, dearheart."

You felt sick as the nickname left his mouth. You hadn't heard that in years.

"Answer my question!" you hissed through clenched teeth.

Albert sighed. "I want you to join me. I believe your skills could prove to be useful to me."

You took a step back. "Oh, so that's what this is, huh? You think you can just crawl back to me just so you can use me again?"

"Quite the contrary, darling." Albert took a step forward, coming closer to you. He once again reached out to touch your face, and this time, you didn't pull away. The leather of his glove was cold against your cheek. "You see, you make me feel away nothing else in this world ever has. Try as I may, I can't seem to get you off of my mind. You drive me crazy, my dearheart."

He leaned in so close that you could smell him. He smelled the same, even after all of these years. He wore the same cologne—he had to have done that on purpose. His thumb brushed against your lower lip. He was so close.

"I want you to join me," Albert repeated.

"How can I trust you? How can I know you won't leave me again?" You whispered.

"I'll never leave you again," Albert hummed. He was so close thar his lips brushed against yours. "That was my one and only regret."

You swallowed deeply. "Fine, I'll...I'll join you."

The corner of Albert's lips curled up into a smirk. He leaned in closer, and finally closed the gap between you. His lips were soft—even softer than you remembered. You reached your hands up to entangle them in those golden locks. His hair felt hard from the hair gel. His hand remained on your cheek, whilst the other found purchase on your hip, tracing little circles into your flesh. He pulled you close so that your body was flush against his. He swiped his tongue across your lower lip, asking to deepen the kiss. You happily accepted, opening your mouth enough to allow him to slip is tongue inside. He let out a sigh through his nose. He pushed you softly backward until you leaned against the wall, tilting his head to get a better angle. You felt like you were floating. This had to be a dream—one you hoped you didn't wake up from.

After an eternity, you finally had to part for air. The only sound throughout the room was the sound of the two of you panting. Albert brought his hands up to caress both sides of your face.

"I've missed you, dearheart," Albert breathed with such gentleness that you'd never heard from him before.

"I've missed you too, Albert."

And thats how you started working for a man who wanted to take over the world🥹

[sghrscbnnm]

Spend an embarrassing amount of time on this

[enternallyvoid]

Breakup.

Zeno Wesker X Reader

A/N: this one's kinda short. GN reader, angst no comfort, Zeno is kinda a dick. I miss him so bad.

"You're leaving again?"

The words felt stale in your mouth.

"Yes. There are work matters I must attend to," Zeno answered a-matter-of-factly, not an ounce of sympathy in his voice.

He'd been away all but one day this past week. He'd been like this for a while now. Even when he was home, he'd been distant. He'd go up into his office and stay there until he went to bed, and even then he hardly slept. When you confronted him about it, he always had an excuse. He was busy, he said. It was work stuff, he said. You knew better. You knew it was a lie, you weren't stupid. He was avoiding you, you knew it. Why he wouldn't just admit it, that you didn't know. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt you. Maybe he just wanted to keep you around to use you on the rare occasion he did want you. Whatever it was, you were tired of the lies and excuses, of the waiting and waiting. Waiting for him to answer, waiting for him to answer his texts, waiting.

"You're always working. You don't have any time for me anymore!" You complained, your heart heavy with sorrow.

"I can't help that I have things to do," Zeno huffed as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

"You could at least try to make some time for me! Just admit it, you're doing this on purpose."

Zeno furrowed his brows. "Doing what on purpose?"

"This! Avoiding me! Why don't you just admit it?" Tears blurred your vison as you continued. "I understand if you don't want me anymore. I wouldn't want me either. Just...please, be honest with me, Zeno. Just tell me to leave and I will."

Zeno didn't even bother to look up at you.

"Fine. I don't want you," he stated blankly.

You couldn't hold back the tears. "Did you ever really love me? Was all of this just a lie? Just some...game to you?"

"For a time, yes."

"What did I do wrong, Zeno? Why aren't I good enough for you?"

"I've simply grown tired of you," Zeno said. He said it so casually, like it meant nothing to him. You meant nothing to him. He pushed past you towards the door. "You have until next Monday to find a place to stay. We're over."

And with that, he left. You felt your world collapsing around you. He was your world. His love was your very lifeline—what gave you purpose—but you weren't wanted now. You don't understand how you were ever wanted. You didn't blame Zeno. You were to blame. You were too clingy, you were always pestering him, always begging for his attention. It's all your fault he left you.

It's all your fault.

[enternallyvoid]

"You're One of my Best"

Plot: Your boyfriend broke up with you suddenly, and somehow Wesker ends up being the one to comfort you.

A/N: My boyfriend irl just broke up with me a few days ago and I'm genuinely so depressed. I wrote this as a way of trying to cope so I dont SH. I hope its at least readable. G/N reader.

• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •

You bit your lip as you felt back tears.

You started down at the text on your phone screen. I want to break up. Sorry. It felt like someone had taken a shotgun and blew a hole straight through your chest, leaving an empty hole where your heart once was. You'd been crying since the night before. You were exhausted. However, as much as you wanted to curl up into your bed and never emerge, you still had to make a living. And so, you ended up here, sitting in your car in the parking lot of your workplace, holding back tears. You were already late for work, and yet you wasted even more time in your car.

You finally convinced yourself to get out of your car. You traversed through the RPD Headquarters to the STARS office where you worked. You were greeted by Chris, who looked a bit concerned. Not wanting to explain your situation to him—or burst into tears again—you feigned happiness.

"Hey, [Name]," Chris said. He paused for a second. "You look like you haven't slept. You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," You lied with a smile.

You quickly pushed past him to avoid further questions. You slumped down in your creaky old office chair, crumbling down in your little cubicle. You regretted even getting out of bed this morning. you should have just called out. You began mindlessly filling out reports as you usually did. It was nice to have at least some normalcy remaining in your life, and—even if only a little—it helped distract you and keep your mind off of last night's events.

It was all so out of the blue. Everything was normal, he acted just fine. He kissed you and told you he loved you, but then, right after you left, you received that damn text. You begged, you pleaded, promised you'd change if he wanted you to, but all you received was the cliche excuse of "it's not you, it's me"! You weren't that stupid, you knew that was just a lie to try to soften the blow. It all honesty, deep down, you know that this was going to happen eventually. You could feel him slipping away like water through your fingers. You just didn't want to admit it to yourself. That didn't make it hurt any less, though. You felt empty. Every kiss, every "I love you" ever whispered, every lingering touch, every promise, promise that you'd last forever, that he'd never get tired of you, that he'd never do this to you—it was all null. It felt odd, mourning someone who was still living. Even if you stayed friends, you still lost the man you loved. It will never be the same. And, to rub salt into the wound, you only had yourself to blame. You were worthless, pathetic, unlovable, and you were a fucking idiot to ever allow yourself to think otherwise even for a second—

"[Name]," the sound of Captain Wesker harshly spitting out your name ripped you from your train of thought.

You hadn't even realized you'd spaced out. You'd held your pen against the paper in the same spot for so long that the ink bled through the page, leaving an ugly black blot where it sat. Wesker scowled at that, but didn't bother to speak out about it.

"I've been calling your name for nearly a minute," Wesker hissed.

"I'm sorry, Captain! I just got lost in thought," you apologized.

Wesker ignored your apology. "In my office in seven minutes. I need to discuss your…" There was a delibrate pause, "arrival today." His voice had a sharp edge to it, sharp enough to slice through skin.

Your eyes fell to the paper beneath you in shame. You let out a meak, "Yes sir."

You listened to the sound of his boots clicking against the concrete floor as he left. Great, just f-ing great! Knowing Wesker, your job could be on the line now, because you needed more on top of everything. And yet again, it's all your fault. It's always all your fault.

Jill walked by. She stopped in her tracks as she noticed the look on your face. You looked tired, devastated, even. She put a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" She questioned.

"Yeah, 'm fine," you mumbled in return.

"You sure? You can talk to me, y'know," Jill persisted.

"Yes, Jill, I am fine," you repeated.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood. Still stepped aside to let you pass. You fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt as you trudged towards Wesker's office. Maybe he'd cut you some slack, you'd never been late before after all, but this was Wesker you were talking about. Who knew? You stood at his door for a long time, desperately trying to build up the confidence to enter. You sucked in a puff of air and raised your hand to knock, and—

"Come in," Wesker commanded from inside.

You flinched. Slowly you opened the door and stepped inside and shut the door behind you. You stood just beyond the threshold of the door, nervously waiting for Wesker to acknowlege you. His head was down as he continued to scribble something down on the page before him with medical persision. His pen did not stall at your entry. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out your thoughts. You tried to calm yourself by examining his office. You had rarely actually been inside it. Wesker's office was small; it felt almost claustrophobic. The bright blue walls didn't do much to comfort you. The black tiled floor looked so clean you could eat off of it. There was minimal decor, aside from a few things hung up on the wall and books here and there. You also noticed a framed picture on the cabinets behind his desk. It showed multiple people, but you couldn't make out who. You swore one of them resembled Wesker, though. Finally, Wesker placed his pen down and looked up at you.

"Sit," he commanded.

You shuffled over to the chair in front of his desk and took a seat. Wesker sat unnaturally still as he watched you. His hands were neatly folded together on top of his desk. Although his eyes were hidden behind those shades, you could still feel the way his eyes burned into you. You shrunk under his gaze. You felt like a mouse getting stared down by a cat.

"Y-you wanted to talk to me, sir?" you stammered quietly.

"Yes," Wesker answered flatly. He cleared his throat. "As you are aware, I am a man who appricates punctuality. Nothing bothers me more than a subordinate who cannot arrive on time."

"I'm sorry sir, I just—" your voice cracked, "A lot happened last night. My boyfriend just broke up with me, and I'm really going through a lot right now."

"That is no excuse, officer," Wesker snapped.

Tears began to well up in your eyes. You cursed mentally. Not here, not now. Not in front of him. Your lower lip trembled like a weeping child. You were absolutely pathetic. You held your hands so tightly together that your knuckles turned white. It took all your might to not break down right then and there. Despite your best efforts, a tear rolled down your cheek. You stared at the floor, refusing to meet Wesker's stern gaze. You felt like a child getting scolded by their parent. You wanted nothing more in that moment to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wesker sighed. His voice was gentler than usual, "I am aware you are upset, but you cannot allow this to inhibit your life. You aren't a highschooler anymore." (I am actually lol)

Wesker reached across the desk to grip your jaw and lead your face back to him. His touch was uncharacteristicly gentle. His thumb wiped away a stray tear that had rolled down your cheek, before beginning to trace little circles against your cheek.

"You are better than this, I expected so much more from you, my dear. You are one of my best officers, after all."

You found that a bit hard to believe—but Wesker didn't seem the type to lie about that. He always told you when you fell short, what reason did he have to lie about it? His touch was surprising, but not unwelcome. You leaned into his touch. You could feel the heat of his hand radiating through the leather of his glove.

"You have potential. Don't waste it all because of a breakup. You're better than that," Wesker said.

You answered quietly, "Yes sir."

"Don't let this happen again. Dismissed."

You stood up, frowning at the loss of contact. You turned to leave, but right as you opened the door, you paused. You turned back to Wesker momentarily.

"Captain?"

"Hm?" Wesker hummed.

"Thank you."

Wesker paused for a second, then nodded. With a small smile, you left, leaving Wesker in solitude.