#deep chris lore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvsturniolo · 2 months

Text

ー ★ !! inebriated

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after being dragged to a party by his brothers, chris finds himself stumbling into a very drunk girl — who looks like she's on the verge of either puking or sobbing. he can't tell which.

a/n : i haven't touched my keyboard in literal months so i wrote this purely due to the fact that i needed to get back into this writing lore ! if this is super shitty & bad, i apologize. this is ur warning !!

also ! there will be underage drinking, so if that sort of thing bothers you in any way i advise that you click off of this rn and find another fic.

also x2 , this will be switching POVs a bit. i'll put their names above each scene tho, so it's not confusing.

wc : 8k

CHRIS

"i don't know if this is a good idea." chris says, warily, as he and his brothers trudge up the stairs toward the loud dorm room. they're all the way down the hall, and he can still hear every single lyric blaring from the speakers.

"oh, don't be a fucking wuss." nick rolls his eyes, gently nudging his brother in the side with his elbow. nick laughs a bit, but when he notices the genuine uneasiness displayed on his brother's face, he feels a twinge of guilt in his gut. "okay, fine. i have an idea."

chris looks up at nick with a deep furrow in his brow, "i hope your idea involves us going back to our own dorm for the rest of the night."

"well, not exactly." nick tells him. "how about matt and i go to the party, while you wait out here in the hall all night?"

chris lets out a loud groan, twisting to sit down on the staircase. what annoys chris isn't the fact that nick is so uncharacteristically persistent about attending this stupid party. it's the fact that he offered this idea as though he genuinely expected chris to sit out in the hallway for hours.

nick rolls his eyes at chris's childish behavior, leaning against the wall of the stairwell, seeming to have completely given up on trying to convince his brother to come along with him. he simply watches with an amused face as chris throw a tantrum.

matt — who has become incredibly sick of listening to his brothers' bickering the entire walk across campus — finally decides to butt into the conversation. he sits down on the stair beside chris, draping an arm over his shoulders. chris glances at matt out of the corner of his eye.

"i have an idea, too." matt tells him with a gentle tone. "wanna hear mine?"

for a moment, chris looks uncertain. but matt is so good at comforting people that he can't help but give in, agreeing to hear his idea as well. "fine." chris mutters.

"listen. you come to the party with us for twenty minutes." he says, making chris immediately let out a fatigued sigh. but matt quickly continues to explain. "if you're still wanting to leave by then, let me know and i'll take you back to our dorm without any questions. but if you end up having fun, you'll stay with us and give us both twenty bucks for having to listen to you whine the whole way here."

chris doesn't hesitate to agree to this deal. he shakes matt's hand to solidify the agreement and the three of them continue walking to the party.

there's no way in hell chris is going to enjoy this. the booming music paired with the stench of alcohol and weed is undoubtably going to give him a splitting head ache by the end of these twenty minutes.

YOU

parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, to put it lightly. you've only been to a few throughout your entire collage career, and you've never found yourself liking them. there's always far too many people in attendance for you to be able to relax or enjoy yourself. so, you've managed to avoid them thus far.

but you've had an incredibly rough day today, and you're pretty keen on the idea of being able to drink your pain away.

you've been friends with jasmin and elaine since you guys were in middle school. the three of you were inseparable for years, and everyone knew it. you were always closer with elaine than jasmin, simply because your guys' personalities merged better. as a trio, you guys spent every single weekend together since you were kids. your families all knew one another. you gossiped together about boys and drama and school. you confided in each other, and didn't spend a second apart.

however, that all ended today. you found elaine making out with your boyfriend in your guys' shared dorm room a few hours ago.

you had been dating kade for two years now, and you introduced him to your friends immediately when you guys met. you were excited to show them the wonderful boy you'd fallen for. they seemed to like him, and you guys became a quartet. you, elaine, jasmin, and kade. it was perfect. for two whole years. but it's all ruined now.

as soon as you walked in on elaine and kade in bed together, you called jasmin to tell her the news. she seemed just as shocked and betrayed as you were, and she rushed to your side instantly. you'd been in her dorm ever since, marinating in your own pitiful sorrow.

the thing is, you've been cheated on before. yes, it hurts ; it hurts like hell. but losing elaine hurts far more than losing your silly boyfriend. plus, kade had always been a bit of an asshole. elaine was the one who disapproved of him the most. the two of them always argued and made banter playfully. god. now you feel like such a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner.

"hey," jasmin says with the softest voice imaginable.

she opens the door to the dorm with a gentle creak, carrying in your favorite candies along with her. she trudges across the room before sitting on her bed — which you've made into your own. the mattress dips under her weight before she sets all the sweets down onto the duvet.

you sit up with a quiet word of thanks. ever since the incident, you've been tangled up in jasmin's blankets with a pillow pressed over your head to drown out the noise of a nearby party being thrown a few rooms down the hall.

"where'd you get all this?" you ask jasmin as you shuffle through the candies, finding the sweetest ones and unwrapping them joyfully.

"paxton is throwing a party for his birthday, and he let me take a few things." she explains, picking up a few for herself.

you can still hear the music blaring from down the hall, along with the sounds of muffled voices and laughter. you immediately wonder if kade and elaine are there together. kade is fairly popular, so he was most likely invited. and elaine loves parties, so she would have attended with him.

the thought of them together brings a certain ache to your stomach, making you want to lurch forward and vomit everywhere. you don't, of course, but you definitely consider it.

"i really fucking love you, jaz." you say.

you look at her with nothing by admiration behind your gaze. she holds the eye contact before smiling gently. she sets down her candies and pulls you into a tight hug. you return the embrace, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck.

"you deserve someone who treats you like the most wonderful person in the whole fucking world." she says against your hair. "because that's who you are."

"i don't feel like that, right now." you tell her, pulling out of the hug to gesture at your appearance. your hair is greasy tangled, your face is puffy from crying, your clothes are twisted, and you probably smell like shit.

"how about this," jasmin says with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips, "i'll lend you one of my most gorgeous dresses, and then we can go to paxton's party together. every single person there will stop and stare, including kade."

jasmin stands from the bed and grabs you by the hands, giggling as she pulls you to your feet. despite wanting nothing more than to go back to rotting uselessly in her bed, you can't help but laugh along with her.

"let's show him what he's missing out on." jasmin declares with a glow in her eyes, that makes you feel like you're in a cheesy disney movie. but you're honestly loving every second of it.

CHRIS

"how long has it been?" chris asks, leaning against the counter behind him. he looks up at matt, but realizes that his brother is no longer in front of him. chris groans audibly. he should have assumed that he wouldn't keep his end of the deal. there's no way matt could walk him home if chris doesn't know where he is.

"it's almost ten o'clock." a random guy says from beside chris. he looks over at him and smiles gratefully, hoping he doesn't look too awkward standing by himself. "this party is shit, don't you think?"

"for sure." chris agrees, quickly. "i don't even drink, so there's nothing for me to do other than watch everyone else get shit-faced. which isn't exactly how i want to spend my saturday night."

the guy just watches chris with an amused expression. the way he's staring makes chris feel a bit uncomfortable, but he refuses to show any sign of uneasiness.

"you're nick's brother, aren't you?" he asks suddenly.

the guy has sandy blonde hair and a face splattered with freckles. his eyes are dark brown, and a bit intimidating. he has high cheekbones and a grin that would make anyone tempted to smile along with him. the stranger takes a long sip out of his red solo cup as he waits for chris to respond, setting it down on the countertop behind him without breaking their eye contact.

"yeah, one of them." chris replies, finally. "i'm christopher."

"mm. full name, huh?" the guy hums with a bit of humor laced behind his tone. chris doesn't say anything, simply nodding as a reply. "i'm paxton. this is my party, i'm turning twenty."

chris's face drops. he instantly wants to take back everything he'd previously said. oh, he fucked up big time. he knows that nick only wanted to come to this party because of the major crush he has on paxton. and chris just insulted the shit out of his birthday party, then acted passive aggressive when giving him his full name as an introduction.

god, nick is gonna kill him.

"right, well i have to go." chris says, quickly exiting the kitchen with no idea where to go next. he should probably have stayed and apologized to paxton, but he was too scared of possibly fucking up even farther.

while aimlessly wandering around the crowded dorm, chris bumps into someone. he instantly apologizes, looking down at her with remorse. but his eyes quickly soften when he recognizes her.

"y/n?" he mutters, shocked to see you. especially at a party like this, knowing how much you usually dislike them with everything in you.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

YOU — fifteen minutes prior

"i don't even know what to do at a party." you complain as you examine at yourself in jasmin's mirror. she was right, you look stunning. but you don't look like you.

"we're not going to party." jasmin explains as though it's the simplest concept to understand. "we're going to make kade jealous, and then get super drunk so we're too hungover to face tonight's concequences in the morning."

she has to shout in order for you to hear her voice because she's in the bathroom, curling her hair. the bathroom door is cracked open, but yelling is still needed due to the party's music being louder than anything else.

you shrug even though she can't see you doing so. "well when you put it that way, it sounds like a lovely idea." you respond, also shouting.

"girl," jasmin says with an audible laugh, "all my ideas are lovely."

with that, she exits the bathroom. her dress is shiny and gold, contrasting beautifully against her dark skin. you watch through the mirror as she approaches you, her reflection standing directly behind your own as she begins to put on two chunky, gold earrings.

you're wearing a dress that's a bit shorter than you'd like, but jasmin claims that it's the longest one she owns. you keep pulling it down subconsciously, but it's riding up your thighs annoyingly. you're wearing shorts underneath, of course, because they make you feel less exposed by the lack of length the dress provides. jasmin also lent you a necklace, a few bracelets, and a pair of earrings to wear. the jewelry is all dainty and more jasmin's style than yours, but you couldn't deny how fucking gorgeous you looked.

"let's go!" jasmin says with a giddy smile, grabbing your hand as she pulls you toward the door. you laugh with your last remaining true friend, allowing her to drag you down toward the party. your guys' heels click against the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound making you laugh even harder.

jasmin doesn't even bother knocking on the door. the way you guys enter paxton's dorm unannounced makes you feel strange, until you're actually inside and realize that the arrival of two people means nothing in comparison to the amount of guests that are piled into the space.

for the first few minutes, you and jasmin walk around together, exploring. you've had a few drinks, but you're hardly feeling anything yet. you end up leaving jasmin when she starts flirting with a random girl on the dance floor, and you feel invasive to linger around with her.

now on your own, you head toward the kitchen for another drink seeing as you just finished your last one. it's kind of comforting to be in the kitchen because there aren't as many people crowding around you. it's easier to breathe on your own.

you find a cooler on the floor, wide open with ice overflowing the rim. wedged inside the ice are various alcoholic beverages to choose from. you think for a moment before bending to grab a jack daniels, deciding on something sweet rather than bitter. when you stand back up, you notice someone standing to your left. you nearly drop the drink in shock.

"god," you mutter with an airy laugh as you turn to face the person. but all traces of humor leave your face when you recognize the presumed stranger.

elaine's hair is beautifully curled, framing her pale face with elegance that makes you suddenly feel like your hair isn't done well enough. her icy blue eyes stare down at you with an expression you can't read — which pisses you off because you used to be able to read all of her emotions perfectly. but now it's like she's a complete stranger.

now feeling insecure in your own skin, you pull the hem of your dress down. elaine doesn't seem to notice, nor does she care how you feel at the moment.

"what?" you demand, clutching the bottle in your hand to ground yourself. "did you come in here just to stare at me, or what?"

"don't flatter yourself." she says bluntly, a tone she's never directed at you before. in all the years you'd known her, you guys have never gotten into a genuine argument. so it's incredibly weird to see her in this new light. "i came for a drink. and you're standing in front of the cooler."

you turn and notice that she's right. you're blocking her from reaching the cooler. you instantly feel embarrassed, but you're quick to hide it by crossing your arms and stepping to the side so she can get to the cooler.

you watch as she reaches for the strongest drink that's offered. typical. she wouldn't be elaine without being unapologetically herself.

"you might not have anything to say to me, but i have a lot i'd like to say to you." you tell her, keeping your voice level despite the way your hands tremble against your crossed arms.

"it can wait." she says, turning on her heel and exiting the kitchen without another word, her ash blonde hair swishing behind her with superiority.

"what the fuck?" you murmur, now alone in the kitchen.

your senses are suddenly overflowing with blinding rage. after years of being best friends, she sleeps with your boyfriend. and yet, she's the one avoiding you? there's no fucking way anything about this situation is logical. you're the one who's pissed, not her. she has no right to have walked away from you like that. you deserve an explanation. or at least a viable conversation.

you screw open your bottle and take a swig of the drink, deciding that you're going to need a whole lot more of this before your anger cools down enough for you to leave the kitchen. because if you were to leave now, you wouldn't trust yourself not to immediately go to elaine and start a fight that you're not sure you'd even win.

after about ten minutes of standing by the cooler, drinking away your anger, you decide to finally exit the kitchen. you leave the room, stumbling a bit as you do so. but you quickly turn back around, realizing that you left your phone on the countertop.

as you walk back into the kitchen, you bump into someone who's walking out of it. he quickly apologizes, seeming to be in quite a hurry. you decide not to look up at him, now being annoyed that someone even bumped into you. god, maybe drinking was a bad idea. now everything pisses you off, not just elaine and kade.

"y/n?" the guy mutters, sounding insanely shocked. you raise a brow before looking up to meet the man's eyes. you instantly begin smiling at the guy.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

CHRIS

chris hasn't seen you since senior year of high school. and considering the fact that you guys are now in college, it has been quite a while since you've seen each other.

you guys weren't necessarily friends back then, but you knew one another well enough. you guys had math together for two years straight. you sat side-by-side, talking every day through the entire period. by the end of the year, chris had developed a crush on you, and you were completely oblivious to his feelings.

he had introduced you to his brothers and you'd hung out outside of school a few times. you spent the night at his house once or twice, when your home life wasn't the greatest. he had come over to yours a few times to study for upcoming tests.

you's met his parents, and mary lou absolutely adored you. she told you stories about her sons, including each of their middle names. following this encounter, you had begun calling chris by his full name — christopher owen. at first, you did it because you noticed how it annoyed him. but then, the name stuck. it became an inside joke between you and him, depicting a sense of intimacy in knowing his middle name. even more so since it was given to you from his mother herself.

but after graduation, you guys lost contact and haven't spoken since.

however, seeing you in front of him now, chris really wishes he had made more of an effort to stay in touch with you. you're just as gorgeous as he'd remembered, if not more so than before. your dress was incredibly flattering, and your hair was done up perfectly.

upon seeing you, he completely forgot everything that was previously plaguing his mind. he couldn't even form a sentence, leaving the two of you staring at each other wordlessly. he took on your appearance once more, suddenly coming to realize something about you.

"you're drunk, aren't you?" he says, not knowing whether or not to be surprised. on one hand, it's a college party and everyone is drunk. but on the other hand, you're you.

you were the most perfect girl he'd ever met, unaware that you were capable of having a single flaw. but as he looks at you now, completely plastered, he realizes that it's impossible for anyone to be flawless. even you. plus, there's something incredibly domestic, and human about seeing you like this. like it's illegal, like something is wrong.

"i think everyone's drunk, except you and your brothers." you tell him with a crooked grin that makes his heart begin to beat at an unhealthy speed. "plus, i deserve to drink after the day i've had."

it sounds like you're telling yourself that last bit more than you're telling it to chris. as though you're not even sure you believe it. he wants to question you, and ask what's wrong. but he decides not to. that'd be weird, wouldn't it? i mean, you guys haven't spoken in years.

"anyway," you say as your body sways from side to side, "i left my phone in the kitchen and i need to get it back before someone steals it. or even worse, before elaine steals it."

chris raises a brow at your odd behavior, but again decides not to point it out. you continue talking as if you can't help yourself. as if there's no off switch, keeping you from spilling too much. and even though you've begun to talk about random shit that means nothing, chris is listening to every single word intently.

"...but yeah, i think all alcohol should have screw on tops." you ramble, mindlessly. "if we could all simply unscrew the bottles without a problem, we wouldn't have to waste money on those shitty bottle openers. but- well, i mean, maybe that's the point. oh my god! maybe that's the reason they're made! so they can make even more money off the openers! even though we don't need to use them, and they don't need the money. it's still a profitable arrangement that they're more well off having created. oh, and-"

you keep talking and talking. and chris keeps listening and listening. the way you gesture around with your hands makes him happy, because you used to do the same thing back in high school. and the way your voice gets higher when you come to a realization is also a habit you've always had.

in the middle of your ranting, nick comes up to chris frantically. he doesn't seen to notice you as he steals chris's attention away.

"have you seen paxton?" nick asks his brother with an extremely worried expression on his face. "we were talking, and it was going good. great even. but then he left to grab a drink, and he hasn't come back. i'm scared i did something wrong to scare him away. it was going so well."

remembering his previous conversation with paxton, chris immediately is filled with guilt. nick looks so terrified of the fact that he fucked this up, not knowing chris is the one who ruined his chances.

"i saw him in the kitchen a little bit ago, but it's been a while." chris says. he's technically not lying. he did see paxton. he's simply leaving out a few details. sure, they're pretty significant details, but it doesn't hurt nick to not know. in fact, it probably would be worse if he did. he's helping them all, honestly.

"thanks," nick says hurriedly before patting chris on the shoulder and rushing into the kitchen behind them.

with nick gone, chris refocuses his attention on you. but he's taken by surprise when he sees that you're no longer in front of him. chris looks around, spinning in circles idiotically. but it's like you fucking vanished out of thin air.

YOU

you've missed nick. you haven't seen him in years. but judging by the anxiety-filled body language, you deemed that this was a brotherly conversation. quickly feeling out of place, you decided to take your leave and return to the search of your phone. but when you reach the counter it had perviously been abandoned at, you see that it's no longer there.

"there you are!" you hear someone say from behind you. the sickeningly familiar voice draws chills down your spine. even drunk, you could recognize kade's voice without having to turn around to see his face. hesitantly, you do turn around. kade is standing by the cooler, your phone held tightly in his hands.

"oh, you found it." you say casually, stepping over to your ex with an amount of false confidence that shocks even you. "i've been looking for my phone everywhere, thank you for returning it for me!"

kade clearly is taken aback by your nonchalance, making you feel extremely good about yourself. but when you reach to take your phone from him, kade holds it above his head. when you guys were dating, his height was endearing. you loved how much taller he was compared to you. but right now, it's really pissing you off.

"see, i was going to give it back." kade says, lowering the phone so it's now in front of his face. he begins to type in your password — which you haven't yet changed seeing as it all only happened this morning. "but i changed my mind."

"you're not fucking funny." you tell him. your voice comes out more emotional than you would have preferred, because now kade knows exactly how annoyed you are.

"hm," he hums, scrolling through your phone as though it were his own. "i think it is funny, to be honest. i mean, you should be thanking me. who knows who else could have found it? you wouldn't have wanted it to get in the wrong hands, would you?"

"it's too late for that." you say. "you're the worst hands for it to be in."

he laughs, audibly, at that. the sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you want nothing more than to punch him in the fucking jaw.

it's so weird that your feelings could change so fast. this morning, you woke up and texted kade with enthusiasm. you guys kissed and cuddled so normally. similarly, you were hanging out with elaine at lunch today perfectly fine. but here you are now, with nothing but hatred for both of them.

"i saw you talking to that triplet guy," kade says, "i always get them mixed up. was that chris or matt? i think nick is the gay one. or is it chris who's gay? god. i can never keep them straight."

"why do you give a shit who i talk to?" you ask him, crossing your arms defiantly as kade continues to snoop through your phone with a straight face. "at least i didn't fuck your best friend while we were together."

this gets his attention.

"you know nothing about our relationship." kade tells you, an edge to his voice that would have scared you if you weren't so blinded by your anger. you watch as he tuts before turning off your phone and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"oh, so it's a relationship now?" you ask. if you weren't so drunk, you would have had the common sense to shut up and stop teasing. but your only goal at the moment is to get as far under his skin as possible. you want him to feel all the pain you felt this morning. "i thought you guys were just fuck buddies."

"i've known elaine longer than i've known you." kade snaps, taking a step closer to you. you back away, being forced to press yourself against the corner of the counter behind you. "she's the one who introduced us in the first place, you dumb fuck."

"yeah, and i'm eternally grateful for that." you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a light scoff.

"elaine has been my friend since middle school. we've been near door neighbors our entire lives." kade tells you, as though you weren't already made painfully aware of their intimate history together. "she means more to me than just sex."

again, anybody else would have been able to read the room by now. they would have stopped poking the bear and decided enough is enough. but you're far too inebriated for something so logical. so you continue to dig a deeper and deeper hole.

"yeah?" you question, tilting your head innocently. "you might want to make sure those feelings are requited. i saw her making out with ryan hart earlier."

you watch as kade's jaw ticks with irritation. the sight of him getting so worked up fills you with an inexplicable pleasure. you've been crying all morning over two people who betrayed you. and after arriving at the party, it's seemed like they don't even care about your pain. so yes, seeing kade get pissed off is extremely satisfying. and yes, you should have stopped there. but no, you didn't.

"she might mean the world to you, kade. but to her? you're just another quick fuck that she'll pretend never even happened come tomorrow."

this seems to have crossed a line.

before you even have time to register what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet with blood dripping from your nose. kade punched you square in the face.

now collecting yourself, you look up at kade with a scowl. but he's not there to meet you eyes. honestly, he's got it worse than you. he's currently on the floor, getting the shit beat out of him by none other than christopher owen.

chris must have seen what happened and decided to step in after you got hit.

and as immature as it sounds, you don't care stop him. you simply watch as chris tackles kade to the ground and punches him repeatedly. people are shouting at him to stop, but chris doesn't care. and nor do you. kade deserves this.

you suddenly hear someone yell your name from somewhere else in the kitchen. you look up and see matt. your guys' eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes you feel guilty for not stopping the fight earlier.

"tell him to stop." he says wordlessly. "he'll only listen to you."

with a sigh, you end the fight with one single word. you say chris's name, and his entire body stops in an instant. it's as if you flicked a switch. he stands up, knuckles bloody, and turns to face you as the kitchen falls silent.

something you've come to like about college is the fact that people know to mind their business. they crowd around for the fight, sure. but as soon as the show is over, they leave as though nothing happened.

chris steps closer, so he's only an inch away from you now. he reaches around and pulls your dress up. you instinctively go to shove him away, but before you have the chance, he slides something into your back pocket, your guys's noses nearly touching as he does so. you feel the familiar weight of your phone in the pocket of your shorts before chris tugs your dress back down to cover them up.

"are you okay?" he asks, so quietly you nearly don't hear him.

you stare up at him, speechless. then, you glance down at his hands and decide to make a joke in order to ease some of the tension. "seems like your knuckles are in worse shape than my nose."

"you should see the other guy." chris says with a chuckle.

you crane your neck to look behind him. but kade is already gone. you're a bit disappointed that you weren't able to see the damage chris did, but you're sure everyone will be talking about it on monday when classes resume.

"let me do you a favor." you tell him, grabbing his bloody hand and holding it in both of yours. "since you did me one."

CHRIS

your favor wasn't what chris expected. when you took hold of his hand and pulled him upstairs, he thought you were going to kiss him or something. but you had other ideas — which he should have expected. from all the time he's known you, he should know better than to assume he knows what's going on inside your head. you're unpredictable. and he loves it. it's actually one of his favorite things about you.

"there should be a first aid kit under the sink." you mutter, dragging him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you as if you were at your own house. "the code of conduct says you're required to have one under each sink in case of emergency."

"no way you actually read the fucking code of conduct." chris says with a laugh, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. he watches you with a gentle smile splayed softly across his lips.

"of course not." you say without looking at him, crouching in front of the sink and beginning to dig through the cabinet. "jasmin's roommate did, though. i've never formally met her, but jaz complains about how strict she is with rules and shit."

"right," chris says.

he's hardly listening to you, though. as much as he would love to involve himself in a conversation with you — no matter the subject — he's distracted. you look so fucking gorgeous right now, and he can't tear his eyes away. it's becoming a genuine problem. he's not only focused on your appearance, though. just the sound of your voice is enough to take his attention away from the words you speak.

it's been so long since he's seen you, and he's just trying to relish in the escapism that your presence offers.

"-- might hurt." is all he hears when he zones back in. and he doesn't have any time to think before you press disinfectant to his knuckles. the medicine against the open wound causes him to suck in a sharp breath. you watch the pained expression on his face, and you frown. "focus on something else. you have nine more knuckles to work with."

as soon as you tell him to focus on something else, his mind instantly goes to you. he pins his eyes to yours, and you return the favor. you continue to hold the eye contact as you move to the next wound. he clenches his jaw, but the pain is much more bearable this time round.

this goes on for about a minute or two. you guys stare at one another as his knuckles are slowly getting the attention they need.

this thing is, kade had piercings. and every time chris's fist wound come in contact with his nose stud or his lip ring, it would puncture his skin — creating the jagged injuries that you're treating so delicately, now.

"done," you say with a wide grin. the sight of you looking at him with a proud smile makes the stinging pain from the gauze worth every second. chris watches as you shut the first-aid-kit and place it back where you'd found it. as you stand back up, he looks down at his battered hands.

you did a great job, that much was inevitable. when you dragged him up here, they were bleeding and throbbing. but now they're numbed, and the band-aid you pressed across the hills of his knuckles are keeping them from bleeding. suddenly, chris remembers something.

"c'mere." he tells you. you look at him with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow at his sudden assertiveness. he instantly feels guilty, and quickly apologizes. "sorry, i didn't mean to snap like that. i just want to check your nose. make sure it's not broken or anything."

you let out an airy chuckle, "you don't need to do that. i'm fine."

"i insist." chris presses on, standing from the toilet seat and taking a daring step closer to you. he hears your breath hitch, and a smile tugs at his lips. "it's the least i could do after you patched me up like humpty dumpty."

you laugh at this, a bright smile lighting the dimmed bathroom as your eyes squint with joy. chris wishes he could bottle this moment up and replay it whenever he pleases.

"okay, okay," you say as your laughter dies down, "you can check my nose."

you move to sit on the toilet seat he had just recently occupied. chris doesn't crouch in front of you the way you did to him, though. he stands before you, his legs placed between your knees. he grabs you jaw, gently as ever, and tips your head up. he uses his free hand to graze your nose, feeling the damage. or lack thereof.

"yeah," his voice is so quiet you strain to hear it, "yeah, you were right. it's not broken."

despite the initial concern now being solved, neither of you attempt to move from your position. chris continues to hold your chin upward, and you continue to stare at him through your lashes. his thigh knocks against your knee, but again, neither of you aim to change anything about this moment — both of you being too afraid to lose whatever chemistry is going on.

suddenly, there's a loud banging at the door. "hurry the fuck up! some of us have to take a shit! oh my god!"

chris gets annoyed by the interruption, tempted to exit the bathroom and hurt whoever just ruined the moment. that way, his knuckles would be bloody again and you'd help him again. yeah, that sounds like a good idea to him. but just as the anger settles into his mind like a bird nesting, something rips his attention away.

you burst out in a fit of laughter. chris whips his head in your direction, desperate to watch the adorable scrunch of your nose, and the light reflect in your eyes. still laughing, you stand from the toilet and wipe at your eyes. you urge chris forward, saying it's a good idea to leave seeing as you guys have been hogging the bathroom for a while.

chris happily obliges. honestly, he would agree with anything you'd say right now. he would do anything for you, simply in the hopes that you'd glance at him for a moment as he does so.

as you both exit the bathroom and return downstairs, chris notices you stumble a bit. then it clicks in his head — you're still a bit drunk. sure, the fight may have sobered you up a great deal, but it's not instantaneous. the alcohol is still in your system, and it's still altering your actions in a slight bit.

this would explain why you're so giggly, and why your cheeks are so rosy. and for a moment. for an awful, awful moment, chris wonders if that's the only reason why you're even hanging around him in the first place.

"let me walk you back to your dorm," chris offers.

"you don't have to do that." you insist, staring up at him with wild eyes and tangled hair that he finds incredibly endearing.

"tell me where your dorm is, and i'll decide that for myself." chris says. "how about this. if you're in this building, i'll let you walk home alone. but if you're in the west wing, you have to let me take you back."

you groan with a laugh, tipping your head back as you do so. "i'm in the west wing."

"great," chris says with a smile, "let me take you home. again, it's the least i could do after everything you've done for me."

"you already made it up to me by checking my nose." you point out, tapping the bridge of your nose to prove your point. "you don't need to escort me home, i'm sure i'll be okay."

"i'm not just talking about the fight." chris says. "you've been great to me since high school."

"oh,"

YOU

the only reason you don't want chris to walk you back to your dorm is because of elaine. she's an incredible manipulator, and will talk shit about you at any chance she gets. especially if she sees you with a new boy. and you're honestly scared that chris might believe her.

but when chris brought up your guys's past, something in your gut ached. you felt an urge to hug him, and confide in him, and simply just exist with him by your side.

it's probably because you no longer feel like you have anyone to confide in. you lost your boyfriend and your best friend in the same day, and you feel bad about complaining to jasmin because she'd going through the same thing. she lost elaine today, too, and it's not fair for you to whine about it when she's probably just as upset as you are.

"thank you," you say as you and chris approach your dorm.

you guys talked the entire way there. well, more like you talked while he listened. you felt bad for speaking without giving him a chance to respond, but he insisted that he doesn't mind. and plus, you're only talking so much due to your nerves.

what if elaine tells him something bad about you, and it makes chris hate you too? what if she sleeps with him the way she did with kade? well, you and chris aren't a thing, so that wouldn't bother you. well. it shouldn't. but it does. the image of him and her? it's- ugh, it's fucking unbearable. and you have no reason to feel that way, since you guys aren't dating. i mean, he could have a girlfriend, and you wouldn't know.

"of course," chris replies as though he was doing something unquestionable.

you stand there for a second, waiting for him to leave. but he doesn't. he's waiting for you to let him in. but. god, you can't do that. what if elaine is in there? finally, you decide to bite the bullet. you fumble with your keys and unlock the door, holding it open for him to enter through.

chris thanks you quickly, walking into your and elaine's shared dorm room. it's decorated to be cozy and warm — a theme that the two of your agreed would make it homier. you love the interior designing, and it makes you happy. but now, you can't think about anything except the image of kade on top of elaine. on your guys's shared couch.

you enter after chris, not turning to facet before you lock the door with the key and stuff it into your pocket. but when you finally turn around, you instantly run into his backside. you side step, wondering what made him stop walking so abruptly. then, you see-

oh.

of fucking course.

kade is sitting on the beige-colored couch with a packs of ice pressed to his face in various spots. while elaine straddles his lap, holding the ice for him as she speaks in gentle, soothing tones. they don't seem to notice you and chris at first, seeming to be too busy flirting with one another. but this could just be an act. perhaps they're trying to look unbothered. and if so, it's working.

elaine leans forward and kisses kade passionately. it lasts long enough that you begin to feel uncomfortable. you turn to chris with a forced smile, "well. thanks for walking me back."

he looks at you with a worried expression, seeing directly through your facade. he knows you and elaine were best friends — your entire high school knew you guys to be the perfect duo. inseparable. and he also knows that kade is a dick. you're not sure if he's aware that you guys dated, but chris definitely hates his guts now, after what happened at the party.

"you can stay with me and my brothers tonight, if you want." chris offers. "we talked the school into giving us a huge dorm so the three of us could share. but it's bigger than we expected, so we have tons of room for you if you don't want to stay here for the night. and none of us would blame you, by the way."

he gives elaine and kade a side-glance. the glare that chris shoots them would likely have been deadly if they were to have looked up at him. but they're too busy with each other to even notice his eyes on them.

"i couldn't ask you to do that," you say with another forced smile, "i'll be fine for the night. you've done more than enough."

chris looks like he wants to protest against this, but he shuts his mouth and decides not to. he nods, agreeing with your decision. "i'm not going to force you, but the offer remains. even if you change your mind in the middle of the night, i'll let you in without any questions."

you smile at this. genuinely. chris has been so insanely kind to you, and you simply don't understand what you've done to deserve it. yeah, you guys were friends a few years back. but chris is being so generous.

overcome with emotion, you wrap your arms around his neck. you hug him tightly, and he hugs you back. you bury your head in the crook of his collarbone, and squeeze him as though you would break without him there to hold you together. like a vase that needs tape to stay standing.

when you finally let go, you're forced to wipe at your eyes to refrain from crying. that would be insanely embarrassing, so you refuse to let any tears fall. you're sure chris wouldn't mind, but you would. you'd rather die than let him see you sob over your ex best friend and kade. ugh. even his name makes your throat close up.

"this is so insensitive." elaine says, causing you and chris to both turn your heads in her direction. you'd forgotten about her. well, that's a complete lie. but you'd like to believe it.

she's still sitting on kade's lap, but they're no longer making out shamelessly. her arms are draped across his shoulders, and his hands are under her shirt, but it's better than before, at least.

"y'know that's the prick who did this to kade, don't you?" elaine asks, directing her question to you.

"i'm aware." you reply, keeping your voice as level as possible. the feeling of having chris behind you makes you feel ten times as more confident, knowing he'd back you up against kade. you don't feel small against her anymore like you did at the party. it's nice. having someone on your side as well. it's not 2 v 1 any longer.

"then why the fuck is he even here? it's not his dorm." kade asks with a scoff and an eye roll, as though the scoff wasn't enough. you feel as chris's posture straightens behind you, and you give him a side glance that only the two of you could notice. he understands, and instantly relaxes — knowing that this is your problem, not his.

"i was there when the fight happened." you tell her, ignoring kade's attempt to piss chris off. "where were you, elaine? having sex with damien? oh, or was it vance? sorry. i can't keep up."

elaine looks like she could explode with rage, her face turning red as her teeth clenching together. it's a sight that you'd love to relish in, but you learned your lesson earlier today. sometimes it's best not to add on more and more. that's asking for a fight.

so you simply give her a final smile, turning to chris. you give him an apologetic look before standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his.

the kiss was an attempt to make elaine and kade annoyed, but you find yourself genuinely enjoying it. you snake your arms behind chris's neck, and he places his hands on your waist, holding your firmly against him. time seems to slow around you guys, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment for as long as you were. it no longer matters who's in the room. you only care about chris.

"i'm so sorry," you whisper against his lips between kisses, "just go with it."

"don't you dare apologize for this." he says. you feel his grip on your waist tighten, and you smile against him, returning to the kiss with an entirely different intention.

before, it was just to piss off your two nemesis. but now, you're doing it for your own enjoyment. because you actually want to. because you actually have feelings for chris. well. you think? you never saw him as a crush before this. but now, you're not sure you'll ever be able to look at him in the same light.

christopher owen. your christopher owen.

@kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq @ifilwtmfc @poopydroopt @cl0esblogg @ellaynaa @itzdarling

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lettersfromaphrodite · 10 months

Text

[14.20]

― pairing : Felix x fem! reader ― content warnings : wolf au, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 4.055 ― notes : “Neve” means “snow” in italian // I’m obsessed with this game, Black Desert Online, so the lore of the game inspired the Black Spirit’s part.

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

An incredibly strong headache caused you to wake clutching your head with a loud, strained groan. You carefully sat back up, and briefly taking in your surroundings, you noticed that you were in the small cave where you and Neve recently took shield. A sudden movement caught your attention, and the sight of the big wolf with fur as white as snow and concerned deep blue eyes gracefully made his way towards you, sitting between your parted legs.

«Hi, Neve.» you mumbled, reaching out to gently caress the wolf behind his ears, and he closed his eyes in reflex, leaning into your touch. «I must have scared you, huh?» you asked, and his eyes shortly glared at you, making you giggle.

Despite the sweet smile on your face as you kept petting the white wolf, your brows slightly furrowed in a silent wonder if he could actually understand you.

You rescued Neve from a group of hunters few months ago, and since then, he has been following you around all the time. You eventually decided to give him a name, and your imagination couldn’t think about anything better than to call him literally “snow”. He did not seem to mind. Moreover him becoming your familiar and helping you on your tasks was something you definitely did not expect, but he never left you alone, not even once.

Another thing you did not expect was for Neve to see your black spirit, the mysterious entity that accompanied you during your continuous travels. You did not know anything about it, only that it gave you an illimitate source of power and that somehow, it randomly showed up to give you tasks about the most various things in order to become stronger. Your first meeting with said spirit was a blur in your memories, you remember finding an amulet laying in the middle of the grass during a walk, when as soon as you tried to touch it, thick black fog erupted from it.

«Your memories… They are useless… We are now one, and the same.» a faint voice whispered, speaking a language that seemed too ancient, and you were not sure about how you understood those strange words in the first place. You woke up what seemed like hours later, a small ball of black fog with two small and bright red eyes staring at you as it floated around the air.

«What’s with that look?» it said, commenting your confused state «Don’t tell me you don’t remember me! You promised you would! Well, that won’t be too much of a problem anyways; your memories will come back soon enough.» you tried to understand what he was implying, when you noticed that your memories were completely gone. You tried hard to remember where you came from, what was your village like, your parents’ faces, but nothing came into your mind. You only knew your own name, and that thanks to the spirit, you were going to become a powerful witch, and nothing more.

«You’re the only one who can see me!» it added, and you knew it was saying the truth, since few times it showed up in crowded places and no one acknowledged its presence. However, for some strange odds, Neve was able to see it. You didn’t know why, and the spirit always told you he didn’t know either, but within the months you spent together, they somehow grew in a silent routine. Neve stopped growling at the black spirit, and the black spirit stopped inching closer to you, until all you could see was black fog occupying your line of sight, as it kept mumbling quiet «Don’t listen to the dog!»

Neve interrupted your thoughts by gently booping his wet nose against yours, the action making you flinch with a giggle.

«I would love to ask you what happened, and how did you carry me back there,» you mumbled, as you tentatively stood up on wobbly legs. «but sadly, you’re not human, aren’t you?» Neve settled for tilting his head and look at you with his bright and mesmerizing eyes.

Summoning the black spirit, you noticed how he seemed to have changed his appearance, now looking more of a consistent entity, rather than a ball of black smoke.

«What happened to you?» you asked it, ruffling Neve’s head which immediately had walked next to you.

«Every time we grew stronger, I change my appearance.» it answered, as he danced in the air around you. «Hopefully, I can go back looking as I did many years ago.» you nodded, now completely used to its presence and somehow having grown to appreciate it. Whether you liked it or not, you knew that your soul was deeply linked with the mysterious entity. «There’s a city not far away from here… I heard the chief is hiring some mercenaries… We should go and talk to him…» you sighed, and nodded.

Therefore, another adventure begun.

You never stayed into a city for too long, but you couldn’t help noticing how interesting and funny rumours about you started to spread out; with a plastered smile on your face you rushed home on an autumn evening, eager to tell your wolf friend about it.

«Neve, you’re not going to believe this.» you said, rushing inside the small house you rented until you finished the task the black spirit assigned you. You took off your dark cape, draping it over one of the chairs in the living room, and quickly started to prepare dinner for both of you. «There are rumours about us, we’re famous! Like, “officially a threat” kind of famous!» your eyes flashed golden as you helped yourself using magic to finish your tasks. Neve was sending you spare glances as he chewed from the raw meat he stole from the table. «They say that I walk around surrounded by shadows, and that my companion is a handsome boy which can turn into a wolf!» you lied about the last part, but your eyes sparkled with interest as you saw Neve momentarily halt his movements with a panicked stare.

Truth was, you spent part of the afternoon in the city’s library, trying to get as much knowledge as you could, when a book talking about wolves caught your interest, and you started doubting Neve’s appearance. For sure, he was a wolf, but was he a human as well? «Yeah, I know,» you added, satisfied with his reaction for now, «There are some crazy people out there.» with that, you both returned to your peaceful dinner.

Weeks had passed since last time you fainted, and the black spirit had grew so strong that his appearance completely changed. The small and cute ball of black smoke you saw as soon as you woke up had completely disappeared, and in its place, there was a tall, more menacing entity. It stood taller than you did, and it was entirely made by dark energy, except for the horned bone mask he wore on his face. Along with his powers, yours grew as well. Thanks to it, you were probably more powerful than anyone was, but you still had to understand the nature of your bond with it.

The dark spirit would materialize randomly and ask you to kill different people or run in different cities just to talk with some people, in order to potentiate and enchant your weapons, but it was also patient enough not to urge you if you wanted to spend your week gathering herbs or lazing around with Neve.

The only thing you were sure about it was that the black spirit had possessed your body, locked away your memories, and completely focused on strengthening you, holding your memories as ransom.

Another thing that you did not understand was your relationship with Neve. He was your familiar, he unconditionally obeyed your orders and loyally stayed at your side every day, but sometimes you could feel waves of emotions, which were definitely not yours.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night you would feel a wave of longing pervading your soul, and coincidentally, Neve would be staring at the moon. Did he miss home? Did he miss his family?

As if Neve felt your concern as well, he would look back at you every time with apologizing eyes, gracefully making his way next to you, so that you could sleep cuddling to his white fur.

«There’s a famous blacksmith not too far from here,» the black spirit said, his voice deep and menacing. «We should let him check your sword.» and without waiting for an answer, he disappeared.

It was the middle of winter, Neve’s fur so pure that you were sure that if he laid in the snow, no one would have been able to spot him.

«Oi, Neve,» you said, carefully brushing from your shoulder the excess of snow falling from the sky and gathering on your shoulders, your footsteps creating a path behind you. «Will you ever let me see your human form?» Neve emitted a low growl in answer, vigorously scrolling the snow from his fur, and you giggled at him, kneeling to gather some snow to throw back at him. In no time, Neve had you gently pinned on the floor, before licking at your nose before moving away. With an outraged sigh, you threw some snow at him once again, and that was how you spent the afternoon, sharing the same happiness.

The village, which the black spirit told you about, was indeed beautiful. It was not too big and did not have too many citizen, but the way the villagers acted made you somehow feel at ease. You wouldn’t mind spending your life there, if only you could. Thick woods surrounded the village, and sometimes, you saw Neve curiously gaze toward it.

«You can go check what’s out there,» you kneeled in front of the wolf, gently rubbing behind his ears, «come back whenever you like, we’re gonna stay here for a while, anyways.» Neve tilted his head, looking at you almost unsure, before nuzzling his head into your chest in what you knew was his way of saying “Thank you”.

You watched Neve walk away all the way out from the village, until you couldn’t distinguish him among the snow anymore.

Turns out, the black spirit gave you many things to do, and as you were busy finishing every task, two days quickly went by, the snow had completely melted. Despite the fact that you were continuous checking out of the window of the small apartment you were renting, Neve still was nowhere to be seen, dejection and worry making their way into your heart.

You felt it in the middle of the afternoon, while waiting for the blacksmith to finish repairing your sword. It was a deep feeling of happiness and belonging, which definitely didn’t come from within you. You clutched at your chest, right on top of your heart, the sensation of being so happy you were about to cry clouding every other emotion, and you understood.

«Looks like the dog has found his pack.» the menacing voice of the black spirit vocalized your thoughts, as it materialized out of nowhere, sitting on the blacksmith’s work desk. You sighed with the hint of a nod, knowing better not to talk with it since no one else could see it. «Don’t forget our deal.» it simply added with nonchalance, leaving you no room for doubting what you had to do, arms crossed in front of its chest before dissolving in a thick black fog.

It has been a total of five days, and judging by his emotions, Neve was still with his newfound pack. You quickly gathered your things, a sad smile adorning your face. He was your familiar, but you felt no right to ask him to come with you once again; he found his home, and you probably never will. You silently wondered that since you could feel his emotions, he could feel yours as well, and suddenly you felt guilty since all the emotions you have ever felt since you lost your memories were rage, and loneliness; as cliché as it was, you only felt genuinely happy anytime Neve was with you.

You took another glance at the now empty streets, illuminated by the lamps that adorned the walls, and using the black spirit’s powers, you vanished in a thin cloud of smoke in the middle of the night.

Living without Neve proven itself to be lonelier than you thought; you grew attached to him and considered him a fundamental part of your life, but you decided his happiness was worth much more than yours.

ou knew the black spirit wasn’t bad, you had countless conversations with it, but you missed Neve’s bright blue eyes and white fur cuddling to you in the middle of the night.

«What if you’re his mate?» the black spirit suggested. It probably felt your loneliness, since he had been walking next to you since you left the village.

«I can’t believe an idiot possessed my soul.» you scoffed, shaking your head. «Neve doesn’t even have a human form.»

«I can’t believe I possessed the soul of an idiot.» it spat back, immediately. «All wolves have one.» you halted your steps, looking at the spirit with wide eyes.

«What if I’m his mate?» you mumbled, «Could you tell me anything about my past?» you saw the spirit shook his head no, shadows dancing around its form like flames, and you pleaded «Just, is there something - anything related to him?»

The black spirit started walking again in silence, the shadows mimicking you to follow, and you eventually did. «The first time you saw him was when we saved him.» it said, and your head snapped towards its direction, and you immediately thanked it. You didn’t remember anything from your past, but at least, you were glad you weren’t forgetting anything fundamental.

You and the black spirit eventually arrived in the Capital, and the King immediately welcomed you, recognizing your strength and acknowledging all the things you’ve done in the few past months, asking you for help to neutralize a group of rebels which had started to cause problems in the capital. Apparently, you had to individuate their base and completely destroy it.

«The King is letting us lead part of his army?» the black spirit said, now sitting on one of the handles of the King’s throne. «He must be pretty desperate.» he spat, his boned mask grazing the unaware King’s face. A small smirk adorned your lips, as you tried not to say anything about the black spirit’s behaviour.

«I can’t see your rumoured companion.» the King’s gentle voice offered. Your eyes widened at the sudden and unexpected mention of Neve, but you were quick to answer.

«He’ll join me in due time.» you politely replied, and the King nodded, quickly going back to his explanation of the situation.

«I don’t want to know your ways, witch.» the King’s old but firm voice said, «I want you to bring justice.»

«We accept. Don’t we?» the black spirit said, now appearing next to you. You nodded, both at him and at the King.

You had a week to prepare for your task; the King insisted for you to stay in the castle as a guest, with people satisfying any and each of your needs. Some of the maids insisted to braid your hair before you left, so that you’d be more comfortable in battle, and you nodded with a blush, definitely not used to the feeling of people gently taking care of you.

Your thoughts kept going back to Neve, wondering if he was okay since you couldn’t feel his emotions anymore – probably due to the distance between you, but the consciousness of the importance of being focused for your mission slowly occupied your thoughts.

Following the black spirit’s suggestion, you sneaked out of the castle in order to quietly spy on your opponents, materializing behind a tree, right in front of their small central quarter’s gates. Using magic, you vanished in order to reappear on top of a branch, and quietly studied the situation.

They didn’t look particularly strong, but there were a lot of them; a lot of people who couldn’t fight somehow provided to be as much of a threat as a well-organized army, especially if the rebels were double the size of the unit sent to neutralize said rebellion.

«They’re armed to the teeth,» the spirit said, sat on the branch next to you, shadows dancing in the air and wrapping themselves around few smaller branches. «It’s gonna a child’s play.» you scoffed as an answer, knowing that once again, the spirit was right.

You attacked the following morning, charging as soon as the rebels changed the guard at the front gates. It was amusing to you, how a single witch was a challenge to them, but as soon as the thought appeared in your head, it vanished. You managed to neutralize half of their army by yourself, the dark spirit’s powers erupting from your body as black shadows danced around your frame and loyally obeyed any and each of your orders, empowering your magic.

A sudden whine caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the direction of the noise. The shadows around your body seemed to become even more, as you saw a rebel sticking his sword in pure, white fur, now partially covered in blood, as the wolf’s body fell on the floor.

«Neve!» you screamed, tears forming in your eyes, not recognizing your voice as your own. You felt impetuous rage bubble up in your chest, until it completely clouded your senses. With another scream, you and let the rage take over you, before everything went black.

An incredibly strong headache caused you to wake clutching your head with a loud, strained groan as a sense of deja-vu made you sigh. You carefully looked around, the familiar decor of the room you occupied in the castle meeting your confused eyes.

«Wakey wakey, buttercup.» a deep, beautiful voice said from your right, and your head quickly turned. A young and handsome boy was looking at you with a soft smile on his lips, as he sat on the chair of the desk in the corner of the room. He had deep blue eyes, and his hair was white.

As he inched closer, you could notice that his long eyelashes were white as well. «It was about time.» he added, sitting next to you on the bed. You furrowed your brows in confusion, endless questions popping into your head.

«Don’t you dare scare me like that, anymore!» the boy suddenly said, flicking your forehead as his expression turned serious. You blushed heavily, realizing that he was your wolf friend as soon as a wave of concern pervaded your emotions.

«Neve?» you tried with an unsure mumble.

«Actually, my name is Felix,» he smiled at you, before gently brushing few strands of hair from your face, «but “Neve” is pretty cute, too.»

You didn’t think too much about it, so you jumped into his arms, hugging Felix as close as you could, loosening a bit the tight hold of your arms as he groaned a strained «Careful, there.» explaining that wolves heal faster indeed, but he still had a cut in his side. You convinced him to re-arrange your positions so that you were both sitting on the bed with your backs against the comfortable and fluffy pillows, and he gently intertwined his fingers with yours as he answered your question about what happened.

«Long story short, you went berserk.» Felix said, tracing your knuckles. «The man hurting me triggered it, and… Darkness literally had the best of you. I could feel your powers, they were unlimited – you gave me quite a scare back there, you didn’t act like yourself anymore.» you furrowed your brows, apologizing, explaining that the last thing you remember seeing was him falling on the floor. «Yeah, everything went downhill from there.» he chuckled, «The King is pleased with your job, by the way. The rebels were neutralized and I’m positive no signs of living will grow in the place their headquarter was for at least, the next fifty years. Not even a strand of grass.»

You were about to answer, when the black spirit appeared in front of the two of you – now actually cuddling, and you jolted up as you saw that he was back to the first state: a cute fluff ball of black smoke with bright red eyes.

«What happened to you?!» you asked, and the spirit danced around the air, almost shy.

«You used all the power we collected!» it said, hiding behind Felix’s shoulder which was still chuckling.

“Since when they’re friends? What did I miss?” you thought.

«You won’t ditch me, right?» the black spirit asked, quietly inching closer. «You still need me, right? We’re going to live in the woods together!» you furrowed your brows, confusion evident on your face once again, as your eyes met Felix’s.

«Back there, the pack asked me to live with them,» he said, intertwining your fingers together once again.

«Oh, that’s amazing-»

«And to bring my mate along.» Felix added, cutting you off.

«Oh.» your cheeks flamed red once again, and the black spirit flew on top of your intertwined hands.

«I told you!» it chanted, making you and Felix giggle. «We’re still friends, right?» it immediately asked, and you nodded. With a small, happy chant, the black spirit quickly disappeared.

«You’re really okay with living with me?» Felix’s concerned voice asked you, while he was still busy playing with your fingers as if they were the most entertaining thing in the universe.

«After what happened, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave your side anymore.» you said, nudging his shoulder, happy to be reunited with him. You never realized how complete Felix made you feel until now; he had always made your soul feel at ease and complete, you were simply too focused on occupying your thoughts with countless task in order to fill the void you believed you still felt. Void, which eventually materialized once again as soon as you parted ways. You smiled, genuine happiness spreading in your heart, as the realization that you and Felix not having to part anymore finally settled in.

«Good, because I strictly forbid you to do that.» Felix’s deep voice made you shiver; you both silently inched closer, your noses barely touching.

«A familiar can’t order his witch around.» you mumbled, almost feeling the smirk adorning his lips right against yours.

«But a mate can do that.» Felix murmured, before connecting your lips in a gentle and soft first kiss. A familiar wave of happiness washed over you, and you close your eyes to deepen the kiss as you felt his tongue running along your lower lip. You spent seconds, minutes, probably a whole hour like that: sitting on the bed with your fingers interlocked and with your free hand shyly yet gently caressing each other’s cheek as you savoured each other’s lips.

With a content sigh, you smiled against Felix’s lips, absolutely sure that now, Felix’s emotions dancing with yours offering nothing but love, were completely reciprocated.

«I honestly hope you’re okay with officially being my mate.» Felix said few hours later, holding your body close and tapping your thigh over the blankets. You immediately lifted the covers with a groan, not ready for other surprises, and noticed a bandage around your thigh, just above your knee. Felix quietly explained that it was his bite-mark, and you wholeheartedly told him that you were happy to be his.

«It was the only way to stop you,» he explained. «You were about to burn part of the woods as well, think about all the fairies living there…» Felix sighed, dramatically.

«Felix, fairies don’t even exist.» you mumbled with a chuckle, running your hand in his soft white hair as you glanced up to meet his blue eyes.

«I can turn into a wolf,» Felix scoffed, «and you walk around with a spirit. Trust me, fairies do exist.» you giggled at his answer, losing yourself in Felix’s secure embrace once again.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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cenorii · 15 hours

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Chris Redfield: personality

This is my psychological analysis of the character, which includes important details of the story, an analysis of the decisions they made and the concept of the phenomenon of «Guiding Fear». Contains spoilers!

Even if you know lore 100%, you will be able to learn something new from my thoughts

I did this to practice analyzing personalities and reliably prescribe my own characters.

[These are all my personal reflections that I have been accumulating and analyzing for six months. You can see the same analysis with Wesker here. In Chris' case, I want to dispel the myths that he is unstable and stupid. Thanks to everyone who reads this, I really appreciate it and it's nice to know that my thoughts are of interest to someone!]

Chris devoted his life entirely to the fight against bioterrorism, renouncing normal life so that others could have it. We don't know much about his thoughts and feelings, as it's in Chris' character to hide such things deep within himself so they don't interfere with his work, but his kind and honest nature shines through. His probable motto is «If not me, then who?»

The main theme of Resident Evil is the struggle with fear. We can speculate endlessly about which characters struggle with which fear, but I'm pretty sure Chris embodies the «fear of loss».

In his 48 years of life, he has lost many partners and squad members, as well as family and friends. Death follows Chris, and he is unbearably afraid of his curse. But who is Chris? In the eyes of many he is a hero, famous for his impulsive character and unbending sense of justice, because of which he is ready to argue with his superiors to prove his point. But behind the legend is a sensitive, respectful and careful man, able to recognize the best qualities in people and guide them.

«I'm not a hero» © Chris

Because of his fear of losing his loved ones, Chris needs control and order in his life, he avoids and minimizes any risks. For this reason, in re8 organized his own squad, separated from the organization, to have full control over the situation. This obsession to control his environment and outcomes to avoid the pain or disappointment that he has experienced in the past is a defense mechanism.

Chris is not an overly sociable person or someone who is eager to make new friends. Although he is easy to communicate, Chris still refrains from frequent socializing with people to avoid forming attachments that could potentially lead to losses in the future. He is used to formal communication between subordinates and colleagues, and informal communication only with those close to Chris who have been with him for a long time.

But let's go his way.

Chris and his younger sister Claire lost their parents when they were children, they died in a car accident. Since then, Chris has taken responsibility for his sister and they have become very close. The first major loss in his life.

At the age of 17, Chris joined the United States Air Force, where he stayed for 6 years. From there he has flying skills, and he is also good with various weapons and is known for his hand-to-hand combat skills, which will not once help him in life. A capable man who was fired for disobeying senior officers, because he didn't agree with them. Barry Burton, a friend he met in the Air Force, recommended Chris to S.T.A.R.S. (elite special forces division under the jurisdiction of the Raccoon Police Department), and that's how his fateful meeting with the Alpha and Bravo teams happened. On the team, Chris was valued for his versatility and was assigned as a point man.

There Chris won at least one award as the best shooter and also met Jill Valentine, who later became his good friend and partner.

His desk in S.T.A.R.S.'s office stands out with its perpetual clutter, scattered folders and disks. He tends to bring things from home, decorating his place with them. For example, next to his desk, Chris put a guitar and also hung a jacket with "Made in Heaven" written on it, which is a reference to a song by the band Queen. Did he risk using the guitar in the presence of the Captain?

On holidays, he would often go to the suburbs with his teammates to drink, which sometimes caused riots. At that point, Chris was chaotic, but because of a difficult fate in the future, he had to tame his inner chaos.

All good things came to an end when contact was lost with Bravo's team in the mountains near Raccoon City. Alpha, meaning the team Chris was on, went to investigate and stumbled upon the Spencer's Mansion. But it wasn't an accident, it was just part of the plan of Wesker, their Captain. The mansion was only a cover for the Umbrella lab beneath it. All the inhabitants of the place had become mere shadows of their former selves, turning into zombies. In order for Chris to explore the building more safely, Wesker left supplies for him in some places, which may not be canon, but only a game convention. But this is quite normal for Wesker, he maintained the image of the captain until the very end.

When Chris caught Wesker off guard in the lab, he was finally convinced that his fears were correct... the captain was a traitor. But even knowing that, realizing how many squad members he ruined, when Wesker was mortally wounded Chris didn't hide his excitement for him. In the re1 remake Chris twitches in his direction, but then recoils. Chris has compassion even for those who betrayed him.

Chris lost many friends, including Wesker, during this assignment. And that day left a strong imprint in his mind. It was later dubbed «Mansion Incident». Something that divided the lives of many into «before» and «after» and began an endless nightmare.

Chris, Jill, Barry, Brad and Rebecca survived and took it upon themselves to figure things out. Upon their return, Chris reported the horrific incident to anyone who was willing to listen, but Police Chief Irons hushed up all the gossip, being under the thumb of Umbrella, not to mention that even the government refused to listen to what Chris had to say. Umbrella had too much influence for it to be that simple, but that only fueled the fire of Chris's fighting spirit. He went on «vacation» to Europe to do his own investigation without saying anything to Claire. Chris wanted to keep his sister out of danger, but there were consequences. Concerned about her brother's disappearance, Claire found herself drawn into the chaos of the fall of Raccoon City, where she met Leon Kennedy (events re2).

During his time at S.T.A.R.S., Chris saw his sister often and taught her shooting and combat skills. Thanks to her brother's attention, Claire learned the skills she needed to survive.

When Claire learned enough information about her brother and left the infected city, she traveled to Europe to continue her search for Chris, but found herself caught by Umbrella. She was sent to Rockfort Island prison, which was more like a concentration camp. (Code: Veronica). Thanks to information from Leon, who Claire managed to contact, Chris set out to help his sister. On the island, he encountered a few revelations - Wesker was alive for some reason, and he was also after some Alexia.

The former captain who got Chris's friends killed. The one who was presumed dead has once again cast a shadow over Redfield's life. Their fates intertwined.

Since Wesker's presence has been causing disasters as of late, Chris decided not only to find his sister, but also to investigate the situation on the island to prevent his new enemy from giving him what he was looking for. Upon meeting him, he discovered that the former captain was no longer human. Chris was only able to defeat him by stealth, suffering greatly in the process.

He eventually saved Claire, and they left the place together. Deep in his heart, Chris realized that Umbrella must cease to exist so that people like Wesker would disappear. So that unfortunate people would not repeat the fate of Steve (Claire's dead friend) and the people of Raccoon City.

In 2003, he traveled with Jill to Russia because of reports of infected people in that region. Their visit to a biological weapons factory ended with a victory over a new enemy, T-A.L.O.S., as well as the collapse of Umbrella, because now Chris and Jill had all the evidence against them. It was not without the help of Wesker, who had contributed to this collapse, because he wanted the same thing. Since then, Chris had become very attached to Jill, as if he was responsible for her life.

However, bioweapons and viruses have affected civilians many more times. That's why Chris and his partner joined the young BSAA organization to prevent the disaster in Raccoon City from repeating itself. In 2005 they were drawn into a conflict with the terrorist organization Veltro, in the investigation of which revealed unpleasant information about traitors in their (BSAA) ranks. There, by the way, Chris becomes the partner of a certain Jessica Sherawat, who is clearly partial to him, but he pretends that he does not notice the hints, softly rejecting the feelings of the future traitor. Inside BSAA, the leadership had to be changed, and that was the first seed of doubt that settled in Chris's mind. The first feeling of distrust for the place he was involved with.

Life continues to put Chris on the spot, forcing him to go on various missions with little or no time to rest. Thanks to the huge number of things, he has dedicated himself to, Chris is at the top of the organization. His endless hard work is summed up in his own phrase: «I'm Not Going To Stop Until I'm Dead».

Let's travel back to 2006. DLC for re5 «Lost in Nightmares». Chris and Jill go in search of Spencer, the last remaining bit of Umbrella, its founder. This man is responsible for many things and deserves to be punished, and could help them find Wesker. But when the partners arrive on a tip-off at his mansion, they find only a bloody corpse with their former captain standing over it. The latter in turn was displeased with the intrusion and immediately attacked them, during the fight Chris was caught off guard. A couple of seconds separated him from probable death. But Jill intervened and pushed Wesker through the window, she falling with him into the cliff. Chris could only watch helplessly as they fell, realizing that once again he had lost someone dear to him. Here Chris wonders for the first time if his struggle is worth it.

Jill's body was never found, and neither was Wesker's, so the former was pronounced dead. The empty grave with the headstone that had been erected in her honor was not deprived of Chris's attention. He probably went there often and grieved. What he swore over Jill's grave was unknown to anyone, but it made Chris investigate even more and put himself through even more training.

Since 1998, his body has changed a lot. Knowing that one day he would meet Wesker again, Chris diligently grew stronger, pushing his body to the limits of human capability so that he would be ready for anything.

What follows are the events of re5. In 2009, he travels to Africa to stop a bioweapons deal, where he meets his new partner, Sheva Alomar. Although they don't have the reliving of the past that they had with Jill, they hit it off well, thanks to which they accomplish a lot together. At the very beginning they encounter a new enemy, Majini, the same Ganados that Leon once encountered in re4, only from an improved version of the Plaga parasite. They also meet a virtually immortal mutant created thanks to the new Uroboros virus. After defeating him, Chris gets the data and learns that the deal was rigged to test this virus. In doing so, he lost several more of his men and painfully realized that if he had arrived on the scene a little earlier, his corpse lay with them. The data also contained a picture of a woman who looked strangely like the dead Jill, but with blonde hair. Chris secretly believed that maybe his old partner was alive.

Sheva was disappointed by the deaths of her comrades and frightened. Not wanting to put anyone else in danger, Chris asks her to leave him, but Sheva refuses. She assures Chris that they are partners until the end. Somewhere out there, her people are dying, so she can't drop everything and turn back and leave Chris alone. Then Chris tells her that he's on this mission for personal reasons. His former partner Jill may be alive and she needs his help, so they need to hurry before it's too late. To which Sheva agrees, not doubting her new partner's theory.

Eventually, after going through many trials, they came face to face with Wesker. He revealed that Jill had been with him the whole time, but was under a mind-altering drug. Jill, being zombified, fought on the same team as Wesker against Chris and Sheva. One of the dearest people to Chris had been enslaved for two whole years, which was beyond his mind with horror and sadness. He had almost buried her, almost given up looking for her, but Jill was literally under his nose, in a terrible situation. Struggling with his best friend and partner, Chris never stopped trying to get the truth into her head so she would recognize it, and he's succeeding.

Running away on urgent business, Wesker leaves Jill alone, forcing Chris and Sheva to fight her. During the fight, they remove the injector from her chest that was controlling her mind.

A disoriented Jill repents that she realized everything but couldn't control herself, to which her partners reply that they understand. Jill is back in action and off to the «Desperate Escape» DLC, while Chris and Sheva continue the main plot and head off on Wesker's trail. For Chris, this was already a personal vendetta. Having suffered so much loss through this man's fault, he would no longer be able to look Jill in the eye if he didn't stop him.

While searching for Wesker, the team encounters an Uroboros mutated Excella, Wesker's his ally, on whom Wesker decides to test the virus, to see if Excella will prove to be the «chosen one».

After an exhausting battle, the partners find the man they came for and decide to use the serum stolen from Excella. It is an injection that, under the right conditions, stabilizes Wesker's powers, but when overdosed makes him weaker. A weakened Wesker tries to flee to his plane, refusing to be confronted any further. His partners, who managed to climb with him, cause the plane to crash into an active volcano, where their final battle takes place.

Wesker, having lost most of his powers, finds himself in a difficult situation and decides to resort to overdosing on Uroboros. Against him, Chris and Sheva are once again at odds, but the fragile rock in the volcano plays into their hands, and Wesker falls ridiculously into the lava as the ground beneath him collapses.

This allowed partners to take advantage of his helplessness and fire the rocket launcher twice at the target. Although not shown, it is assumed that Wesker was killed.

After that, Chris finally realized what he was fighting for, realizing that his fight was worth the lives saved. Jill was sent to rehab after everything Wesker had done to her and didn't get back to normal until closer to 2015, causing Chris to change partners again. Chris wrote in his notes, «Defeating Wesker's undoubtedly a turning point for me. Due to this battle, I found the meaning behind what I'm fighting for».

In 2012, during the events of re6, Chris and his new partner, Piers Nivans, were sent to Edonia to prevent the spread of another bioweapon, but things didn't go quite as they expected. Another mission, another loss for Redfield.

At some point, he learns about Jake Muller and the fact that his life is in danger. After learning that he was Wesker's own son, Chris thought deep down, probably about the fate that has been intertwined with this man since the days of S.T.A.R.S.

At the very beginning of the mission, Chris loses almost his entire squad, once again convinced of the curse he carries behind him. And amnesia during the trauma incapacitates him for six months and Chris becomes an alcoholic.

In 2013, Pierce brings his captain back into the service, forcefully reclaiming unpleasant memories in order to continue the mission. The losses that Chris has suffered have affected him greatly, and he worries for the lives of every member of the squad, making foolish and rash actions that put him in danger. It is only after talking with Piers that Chris comes to his senses and becomes his old self again, because being gripped by fear you can't save anyone. And he really couldn't save anyone again, only the two of them survived.

After meeting Jake again, Chris confesses that he killed Wesker, his father, which leads to an argument in which Jake pulls a gun on him. Chris at this point says, "Go ahead, shoot. You have every right to. Just promise me you'll survive. The world depends on it." Jake shoots past and declares that there are more important things at stake than their problems. Chris probably feels guilty about him.

On a mission to protect Jake and many others, Chris and Piers have to face a new bioweapon, HAOS. Piers, sacrificing himself, becomes infected with the C-virus and forces Chris to save himself by being alone with HAOS. In doing so, he became another wound on Redfield's heart. Another loss on the account. Chris had planned to retire, lay down his weapons and turn everything over to Piers, but now he is forced to continue his service, thus honoring Piers's memory. Chris once said he would fight to the end, and he doesn't throw words to the wind.

2017, re7 events. Bakers and Mold incident, which Chris was unlucky enough to be involved in. He once again tragically lost all of his people. Once again, fate has struck a sore spot. And that seed of doubt that had settled in his mind back in 2005 finally blossomed. After this incident, Chris became even more distrustful of the BSAA, because they had hidden the incident from the public, which had never happened before. He formed his own Hound Wolf Squad, gathering people he could trust, and spent the next three years tracking down a certain mother Miranda, with absolutely no authorization from headquarters. He became an outcast in BSAA for this cause and for justice.

As Chris got older, he stopped acting impulsively and began to act more uncompromisingly, clearly following the plan regardless of any interference. He saw no obvious reason why he was obligated to inform Ethan of his next course of action before shooting his «wife» during dinner in 2021. He believed that Miranda would realize that Ethan knew something, so such sacrifices had to be made.

Ethan thought until the last minute that his wife was gone and the baby had been taken away. What loss and stress Ethan went through Chris didn't even take it upon himself to imagine. In the end, it turned out that it wasn't his wife at all, but Miranda, who had pretended to be her, changing her appearance at the expense of Mold's abilities. Chris's plan had gone awry from the start, but it could hardly have been worse if he had prematurely informed Ethan. From now on, Chris tried to keep random people out of his plans to minimize any potential casualties.

On this mission, for the first time, Chris didn't lose anyone from his squad, but he did lose a friend. Ethan died to protect loved ones, and it hit Redfield and his fear once again. He experienced grief and anger at the realization that he would never be able to save those whose lives he held dear. Perhaps he chastised himself for the mistakes he had made during this assignment. Blamed himself for not telling Ethan the whole plan beforehand. He had plenty of reasons to hate himself.

But this small victory over Miranda doesn't mean victory in the never-ending war against bioterrorism. On the way back, one of his squad discovers that the body of the BSAA soldier on their plane was a bioweapon. This is the last straw for Chris, and he decides to look into everything, which will most likely lead to a coup in the organization.

To summarize, Chris is sometimes hard to understand, as he hides his emotions and feelings under a meaningful silence. The kindly man who was the soul of the company, by 2021 looks as if he has lost all hope, but it still burns in him. Every dead person he failed to keep safe feels like they destroyed his heart. Christopher is a huge wound in the fandom that is not easy to heal. His storyline is likely coming to an end, which makes me sad to see Chris meet his old age in sadness and loneliness. At the time of re8 (2021), he's already 48 years old, which is a lot considering he's been fighting bioterrorism since he was 25. Has Chris ever thought of his own wants and needs since then? He has such dedication and concern for others that it seems as if he is completely oblivious to himself. With his endless responsibilities, it would be impossible to take a vacation, but there are indeed moments of calm, does Chris never rest?

On a more personal note, he has always treated his squads like family, "I know it is not any of my business, but I want you to think of us as a family... no matter how this all ends" (Philosophy University Incident 2010). Nothing is known about Chris' relationships, except for one non-canonical instance of dating a girl in «Viral Campaign». Apart from his living friends, he has no one else. It wasn't until Ethan's death that he found something resembling a normal life. Chris helped Ethan's wife raise and educate their daughter Rose, becoming an uncle and father figure to her. It is unknown if Chris ever returned to alcoholism after his amnesia, but I can assume it is unlikely. A lot of things happened to him during that period of his life that affected his view of the world. Surely he no longer allows himself to behave so recklessly, even in the most stalemate situation.

Interesting detail, Chris is constantly contrasted with Wesker, as if he's a better version of him. Both were Alpha squad captains, both have blood type 0, and were once the same weight class and same height. Probably the same eye color, as well as great weapons proficiency. Their encounters in re5 don't look like a fight, it's more like a dance between two people with equally good fighting skills. Sure, Wesker is much stronger than Chris due to his situation with the virus, but he never let himself use more strength than necessary to keep Chris fighting him, prolonging any fight with him. It's possible that Wesker's attempt to kill Chris in «Lost in Nightmares» is just a ruse, and he was going to toss him aside somewhere, as he never seriously intended to hurt him enough. Chris' age at the time of his last official appearance in re8 is 48, which matches Wesker's age at the time of his supposed death. Their conflict isn't over yet, so it's fully expected that Wesker survived and will once again surprise Christopher with his presence. They need to finish what they started, as adults and having already been through a lot. Without the pointless fights that the current Chris is unlikely to get into. There's no telling what the modern Wesker might be like, but if he's stayed in the shadows for so many years, it's not like he's planning to be too reckless either.

#resident evil #rebhfun #resident evil 5 #chris redfield #albert wesker #resident evil 8 #resident evil 6

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ambersgems · 1 year

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Bonded - Part 2 - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where you can feel your soulmate's emotions. When you meet, usually their name appears on your wrist.

A/N: Please let me know if you'd like this to be continued! Any feedback is appreciated! I also would love requests for anything Dean, Chris Evans characters, or Sebastian Stan characters! It can be blurbs, drabbles, or longer! Oh, also I imagine Dean being around 28/29 here while reader is approaching 25.

Word Count: 2K

Part 1

Dean’s POV

It was a simple case. It was a simple salt and burn. The spirit was going after highly driven authority types. CEOs, things of that nature. The motive was something about powerful people hurting the weak. He didn’t really know. Honestly, he didn’t really care. He just wanted to do what he did best and that was to eliminate this son of a bitch.

The old house creaked under his boots. The brown laces scraped against each floorboard he passed. He could taste the dust that was in the air, causing his chest to tighten slightly from the pollution in his lungs. Sam had decided to cover the back, while he went through the front. He held his flashlight in his left hand and his gun in his right, completing the necessary checks around the perimeter. After an arduous search, they finally found the bones in the basement.

Quickly, he reaches into his duffle bag and grabs the salt, turning it over and covering the bones as his eyes scan around the room. It was odd not to have encountered the spirit yet, but his suspicions were confirmed when he heard a loud crash coming from the top of the stairs, the door had swung shut. A groan leaves his lips dropping his bag, reaching for the shotgun with the rock salt. “Sammy! Burn the bones while I keep ‘em back would ya?!” He yells out, deciding to guard the stairs.

It was all running relatively smoothly, until ole casper decided to pop up out of nowhere. Dean doesn’t think. He just reacts, pumping the shotgun and shooting at the ghost. He would never admit it, but it gave him quite a jump scare. His palms were sweating and his heart was racing as the spirit approached, seemingly impervious to the shots taken by Dean. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as the shotgun was knocked from his grasp and he was pinned to the grimy cinderblock wall. “Sammy!” he called out, watching him fumble with the match to burn the bones.

Despite the fear that coursed through his body, there was a sense of calm that washed over Dean’s physical body. You. It was you. He could feel you trying to calm him down. While he appreciated it, now was not the time for him to fall into your relaxing state. He fought against it as much as he could, waiting for Sammy to finally finish with the bones.

He let out a sigh of relief as the spirit disappeared, the bones completely destroyed. “Took ya long enough” he grumbled as he tried his best to catch his breath, knowing that you were still trying to soothe him as best as you knew how. He shook his head at the thought. This must be very confusing for you at the very least.

He tried to gather his thoughts as he and Sam took the Impala back to the motel. The drive was quiet between the two brothers, but it was anything but quiet inside of Dean’s head. All he could think about was you.

Dean had felt your emotions for as long as he could remember. The little things and the big things, he could feel them all with a heaviness in his chest. These things were relatively normal for soulmates. But, growing up in the world he did, Dean was also acutely aware of the things in life that were not normal. He knew that being able to help regulate your soulmate’s emotions was not a usual thing. So, he dove into the lore of it all and he found it. He found the term that describes the kind of soulmate that he had.

They were “bonded.” He took a deep dive and learned everything that there was to know about being bonded to his soulmate. It meant that when he met you, his name would form on your wrist, but yours would be written over his heart. Why? Because you were his source of heart. His name would be on your wrist because he was your source of strength. Once he met you, his entire life would change and so would yours.

Dean knew you were trying your best to accommodate him. He could feel you each time you tried to relax him. What was worse, he could feel you suppressing your own emotions. He could only guess it was for his sake, not wanting him to have to feel your pain. He knew you were kind in that way, that your heart for him was greater than any other, which is why your name would appear on his chest one day. Had he known this sooner, he would have left some extra space and not had his anti-possession tattoo placed in the same vicinity. He knew once he met you he would wear your name proudly.

He had a million thoughts racing through his mind as he drove them back to the motel, knowing you must be confused by everything that was happening to you. All he wanted to do was comfort you. He could feel the bristle of your own anxiety when his emotions couldn’t be kept in check.He was sure he woke you with his antics on more than one occasion, and he felt bad for that, but he was starting to calm down with your help. Sometimes he wondered how he would have ever made it without you caring about him, albeit in a roundabout way. No matter what, he could always count on you to be there for him, which isn’t something he could say about most people in his life. This is why he promised himself that once he met you, he would never let anything harm you and he’d never let go.

Trees blurred past his vision as he kept his attention on the highway, thoughts of you in every moment. What did you look like? Were you tall or shorter? Would you be afraid of him and what he does? What was the name of your favorite perfume? He could always smell it himself when you put it on, smell triggering some of the strongest emotions in you. He didn’t know the name, but he wished he could find it and keep it around for when he couldn’t feel your emotions, just to have you with him.

Dean had reached the Age of Choice several years ago now. He no longer had to wait to be with someone else if he wanted to. But that was just it, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be with anyone but you. The one person that he has had with him his entire life, cared about him and never let him down. Sure, he had definitely had his fun over the years. He was no blushing virgin by any means. Funnily enough, when he was with those girls, that was when he was the most emotionally cut off from you. Deep down he knew that he didn’t want to cause you that pain, but he also didn’t feel anything for them. It was a quick way to forget for a moment, but that was all that it was. There were no emotions involved. He knew that he wanted to find you, but he didn’t know how.

By the time that Dean had pulled into the motel parking lot, he knew you were asleep. He could feel the calm lull and lack of anxiety, which told him you probably drifted off after he had steadied himself in the drive.

-----------------

The next morning Dean was woken up with a grunt. Sam threw some clothes at him and yelled at him to get up. “Come on, I found another case!” he shouted, causing Dean to groan and slowly change into his clothes.

-----------------

After a coffee run and a short drive they reached what looked like the average office building. Sam had explained over the drive that there had been another death last night and that they may want to do some poking around to make sure no one else raised suspicion, even if they already had dealt with the spirit.

Upon getting out of Baby, they threw on their FBI jackets and grabbed their badges before walking inside the relatively nondescript building. Dean scanned the room as they walked in, noticing the way each employee’s eyes would flick up to them as they walked past, stopping what they were doing in the process. It was like they were frozen as they watched the men walk to what looked like a receptionist’s desk.

There was a young girl standing there, Dean thought she couldn’t be much older than 18, frantically answering calls and letting people know that, no, her boss wasn't in today and they would have to reschedule. His eyes flicked down to her name tag that read ‘Natalie,’ while they waited for her to acknowledge their presence. Once she seemed to stop panicking on the phone, she attempted to straighten her appearance, smoothing her skirt out with her hands. Dean noticed the blush on her cheeks, knowing she likely found one of them to be attractive. He smirked slightly, taking note that they may be able to use that to get information later.

“Hi Mr. FBI Agents, sirs,” the girl stammered out, “I’m sorry for the mess, but our boss didn’t come in today and his executive assistant is running late,” she explained earnestly.

“Well that’s actually what we’re here for. I’m Agent Jones, and this is Agent Smith, your boss died last night,” Sam says to the girl, watching as her reaction switches to one of shock.

“This executive assistant of his, do you know where she’s at?” Dean questioned, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

“Y/N? You’re looking for Y/N Y/L/N? What would you want with her? I know her, sh- she’d never do anything like that, you don’t have to worry about her!” Natalie states, her breathing becoming erratic the longer she talked. She quickly came to your defense, knowing your character. You had just texted her and told her you were on the way, with not only your boss’ coffee order but hers as well. She knew you would never be capable of anything horrid.

“Woah, woah, woah, nobody is accusing anyone of anything. We’d just like to have a word with her. If she was close to him, then she might have some insight into some questions we’d like to ask. Now, where is she?” Dean asked, his tone becoming a little harsher this time.

The girl merely pointed towards the doors that they had come in through, her hand shaking a bit in fear of repercussions. Dean and Sam watched as a young woman barged through the swinging glass doors. Dean smirked slightly as he saw you maneuver your way around, 3 coffees in hand and without spilling a drop. It was a sight to be seen. He thought it was odd the way it struck him, the grace that you held while simultaneously trading your flats for the heels you had in your bag. He tried his best to keep his expression neutral, though, as you approached them.

It looked as if you really weren't paying attention to them, but once you got closer, Sam spoke up. “You must be Miss Y/L/N?”

Dean noticed the way that your eyebrows raised, watching you intently as you responded “That’s me. Can I ask who you are?” your tone was polite, but he could tell that you were anxious to get past the two of them.

“I’m Agent Smith and this is Agent Jones, we are here to ask you a few questions about your boss,” he replied, instinctively reaching his hand out to grab yours.

He winced as he felt it, a groan escaping his lips and pulling at the fabric of his shirt. Your name began inscribing itself onto his chest, right below his anti-possession tattoo and over his heart. Dean could sense your confusion when you noticed your name wasn’t on his wrist, but his chest. He couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his face, seeing the shock written on your face.

“Well, sweetheart, looks like we’re not only soulmates, we’re bonded. And we need to have a conversation.”

Tagged by Request: @imaginedreamwrite

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ranfordgallus · 2 months

Note

"proship dni" like ur not drawing weirdass gore of children's show characters based on real living human beings.... proshippers are ur fandom cousins no matter how much u deny it 😝

I feel like the difference between me and proshippers is that i dont draw the kratt brothers with their intestines out (literally i mostly draw the kratt brothers covered in blood and the MOST gore ive done is euther stoner martin projectile vomiting blood (which i dont take seriously and i made that as SATIRE) and stoner chris with a severed head (also not made seriously, stoner AU is not meant to be serious, its a satire AU i made)

and in krattsatrophe chris eye was damaged along side his chest but its not so fuckin deep that his organs are showing because thats too gruesome for me to draw the kratt brothers that way so its mostly just a scar, i dont draw gore of the kratt brothers all the time and its just them LIKE I SAID...covered in blood the most gore ive done isnt insane, mostly just slight gore

You acting like me drawing cartoon gore of the kratt brothers ironically and proshippers shipping the kratt brothers unironically are the same thing?

Before you asked "well the krattastrophe has gore but its a serious AU?" Yes it IS a serious AU! but i did that because its for the loooreee....remember i never draw the kratt brothers with their brains sticking out because thats too gruesome for me to do that, but when i DO have to draw that its for the lore! But...minus the brains sticking out part nd more like getting their eye clawed of by a cougar for example or one of their arms torn off which....thats the limit ill go from there....*cough*

"ok but you draw zach getting killed and HIS intestines are out!!" YES I DID! thats...because its also for the lore in the comic, but also the difference between me drawing gore of fictional characters and proshippers shipping fictional characters is that i DON'T romanticize gore (in fictional characters or irl obv) and proshippers romantisizes incest, pedophilia, etc (in fictional characters....i hope) which is...disgusting obviously

Plus....i havent drawn "kratt brothers ""gore""" for a long time...i think the last time i drew "gore" of them was 2 months ago when i drew stoner Chris's head being severed by one of zachs robots...sooo yeah, i dont draw gore that much but when i do its mostly just my ocs

Sorry for the lengthy reply i just wanna explain myself thoroughly lmao

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wil-o-wispy · 1 month

Text

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 3

Pairing: Chris Redfield x FM! Reader (but not in this part)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here) | Part 4

Summary: One year after running from your feelings for Chris Redfield, an oddly familiar face emerges from the shadows.

Contents: Small spoilers for RE6, mentions of vomitting from seasickness, canon typical violence/swearing, Jake banter, canon typical puzzle bullshit, LORE. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Jake is literally one of the best characters in RE6 it is CRIMINAL that he's not in more fics. Be the change you want to see in the world. The plot is plotting in this part and I got a little carried away with descriptions but we're rolling with it. Also many thanks for 100+ likes on this series already. Enjoy!

w/c: 7.1k

1 Year Later:

Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

That’s all you can think of under the black hood. The last thing you need right now is to puke on yourself. You should be thinking of ways to escape your current predicament, but your stomach lurching with the irregular rise and fall of the boat you’re handcuffed to, the indiscernible shouting of your kidnappers, the sweat all over your body from the unbearable heat and seasickness, and the sickeningly strong scent of fish and salty air is making that near impossible.

How the hell do I keep getting caught up in this shit? Don’t fucking puke. Breathe in through the mouth, out through the nose.

You’d had terrible seasickness since Albert kept you on that tanker for so long until Africa happened. After the second time trying to escape him and being mildly successful, he wanted to make damn sure that it didn’t happen again. Therefore: boat timeout. A boat prison meant it would be more difficult to escape. More resources needed, more planning required for a chance at walking on dry land. The chronic seasickness was an unintended side effect you’re sure, but it only gave another weakness for Albert to leverage against you. ‘The sickness will cease if you listen to me dearheart,’ didn’t sound like a compelling argument on its own to inject Uroboros in your veins, but presented as a solution to vomiting constantly because of the ocean’s movement for four years, it was pretty damn tempting some days. If you didn’t already know that virus was a death sentence, you might have given it a shot.

You’d even insisted that any transportation involving sea travel be explicitly prohibited while you were consulting/in protective custody with the B.S.A.A. Travel by air and car were far more convenient anyway, or at least that’s what Chris assured you. The man witnessed you puking your guts out the day he rescued you from that tanker. Of course he’d back up your request.

I wonder if he knows I’m gone yet. Deep breaths. Don’t puke.

It’s likely, considering it’s been some hours. Even though you’re considered part of B.S.A.A Europe now, you’re still willing to bet that Chris still got important updates about you considering your history. Higher-ups wouldn’t think twice about their favorite soldier wanting updates about the widow of Albert Wesker.

You know better.

His interest is much more personal than that.

As much as you would like to entertain a relationship, you can’t bring yourself to finding out what the aftermath of Chris’ professional life would be if you did. You felt guilty about leaving so quickly and not even telling him, but you figured if you had told him before you left, he might have convinced you to stay. You’d sent him a text wishing him well when you got to your new apartment an ocean away, which is better than nothing you suppose.

You hope he’d get a kick out of the security footage at least. You managed to aggressively elbow one of your kidnappers in the jaw and make them stagger back before you were overwhelmed, restrained and thrown in the back seat of a car. Surprisingly, there weren’t any physical consequences to that besides a mildly sore elbow. Whoever wanted to take you wants you all in one piece, which can either be really good or really bad. It’s the world’s most shitty game of roulette; is it a job offer to work for a terrorist organization? Or is it one of Albert’s disgruntled business partners wanting to use you as a test subject for revenge? Both were unpleasant in their own ways.

With all the circumstances surrounding your transfer to the Germany B.S.A.A. lab, everything was going surprisingly well. Too well. You should have known it wouldn’t last forever. Nothing good ever does in your life. Chris had tried to reach out a few times wanting to talk, but you always dodged his calls blaming the time difference, your workload, or the near-constant stream of outbreaks that always required your professional attention. You didn’t mind. Keeping busy meant less time to think about Chris’ wounded expression the last time you saw him. The attempts at contact eventually slowed in frequency and you only saw him in the occasional group video call regarding major outbreaks. The North American branch rarely had a reason to visit your particular station with it only being a lab and having nothing to do with the B.S.A.A.’s military operations. A small blessing in your eyes.

Germany was a far away dream at this point. There’s light piercing through the fabric of your hood, so you know it’s the next day. It was night when you were taken. You didn’t get a good look at your kidnappers, but you heard them speaking some sort of Asiatic-related language before they bagged you, as well as throughout your journey to wherever ‘here’ is. All you know for sure is that you were in a car for a long time, a plane for an even longer amount of time (that you somehow slept through most of), and this boat for what feels like an eternity.

Mercifully, your hear shouts from the shore and the movement of the boat changes from a straight choppy line to a diagonal jerky tug and pull. They’re docking the boat. You hear an announcement from an old-sounding speaker in that same unfamiliar language close by, followed by an ear grating buzzer. The words from the speaker echo around the space, giving you the impression of a rocky and unforgiveable terrain.

You still feel wobbly when you’re practically dragged from the boat by your handcuffed wrists, but you manage to walk in what you think is a straight line towards wherever your destination is. The hollow echo of walking on wood underneath your feet turns into the gravely sound of small pebbles, then morphs into solid concrete. The overwhelming fish smell also grows weaker the farther you walk inland, although you can still barely smell it if you focus on your kidnappers. They’re talking boisterously and laughing. You can hear them on either side of you, in front of you, and behind you. The desire to rip off your hood, bodycheck the goons next to you, and run off into God-knows-where was strong, but it was also a rash, stupid decision.

Don’t lash out immediately, know the enemy first.

You’d always been told to comply with kidnappers until the B.S.A.A. could get to you, but on the other hand you’re just too proud to blindly do everything they tell you. You always operate on the assumption they won’t find you in time. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. So, you do what’s become natural at this point: observe and take mental notes.

After a few more paces and a comment from the leader in front of you that the other three belly laugh at, you hear a metallic click, then the metal on metal symphony of a large factory sized door slowly opening a few yards in front of you. There’s a moment of silence between your kidnappers. Then, the ringleader in front of you tugs on your cuffs so hard that you nearly stumble to the ground, but you manage to barely keep your balance. He says words where he sounds like he’s smiling. A joke like before? But the other three aren’t laughing this time. The one on your back right says something quietly, and the ringleader holding your cuffs barks something back angrily.

Then it hits you: these guys are nervous. They haven’t been here before. They’re hesitating to go into the unknown entrance in front of you. These guys are probably a hired third party. The man holding your cuffs shouts something else, startling you and breaking your train of thought. He pulls the cuffs forward as he walks and you’re forced to follow. You hear three pairs of hesitant footsteps behind you.

It only takes a few seconds for you to realize why three of the four men got cold feet at the door. It’s dark in here. The sunlight that was able to pierce through the dark fabric of the hood lessens in intensity the further you’re dragged into the room. As the sounds of the ocean outside get further and further away and you’re questioning what kind of building could possibly be this large.

There’s nervous dissent among the three kidnappers behind you when the big metal door starts closing, but another angry remark from the leader shuts them up. You’re led further and further into the room. You hear yours and your kidnapper’s footsteps echoing around the cavernous room, but the sound gradually reverberates less and less the closer you’re led to bright lights on the other end of the room. The darkness under your hood lessens and grows surprisingly brighter until you’re forced to stop. The ringleader in front of you clears his throat, and pushes you forward slightly. He speaks like a game show host presenting the grand prize, the forced showmanship feeling out of place in the empty environment. A higher pitched, lilting male voice responds over a speaker overhead. Unimpressed. The ringleader tries to keep up the act, but is quickly shut down again.

You hear the higher pitched voice bark out something that sounds like an order, you hear a huff from the leader next to you, then the black hood is ripped off your head. Your eyes are immediately assaulted with bright, military grade lights pointing in your direction. You try to blink away the blindness, but even after getting used to not being in almost complete darkness, you can only make out the silhouette of a wiry man and a bulkier man with some kind of rifle standing next to him in an observation chamber above you. You see the wiry man nod his head in approval. He leans forward and you hear a polite, lightly accented higher pitched voice over the speaker.

“Welcome Doctor. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”

You don’t recognize the voice, so you elect keep your expression neutral. “It’s a pleasure to be here.” You reply flatly, clearly wanting to be anywhere else.

“I do apologize for your long journey. But some things just can’t be helped. These kind gentlemen will show you to your accommodations.”

At first, you think he’s referring to your kidnappers, but then you see two soldiers walk out from the darkness in front of you. They’re dressed in black, military style gear and wear something similar to a gas mask on their faces. They’re also holding electric batons. You look around. Your kidnappers are dressed in street clothes and appear close to middle age. Maybe you should have taken your chances with them outside. As the soldiers walk out of the shadows, the lead kidnapper holding you by your cuffs, the oldest by the looks of him, gestures to the wiry man above you all and starts almost shouting in a firm tone while alternating between rubbing his fingertips together and an ‘okay’ symbol. Payment.

The wiry man’s silhouette presses a button on the console in front of him in the booth, and more lights come on to your left. Crates. Lots of them. You don’t know what’s inside from this distance, but judging by the smile on the lead kidnapper’s face the payment is more than satisfactory. The previous nervous tension among the four men is completely eradicated. The nervous one that spoke before tosses a small set of keys to one of the soldiers, the lead kidnapper pushes you forward towards the other soldier, and all four of the men head over to the crates to check out their bounty.

You see the soldier with the key place it in one of the pockets on the front of his uniform and walk back towards the darkness, while the other places you in front of him with a firm hand on your shoulder and walks you forward. You’re in complete darkness for a few paces before you’re blinded again by a pair of industrial elevator doors opening and shadows walking towards you.

You realize the two escorting you are guards at best, not soldiers. The squad in front of you is armed with much more deadly weapons; you recognize pistols and semi-automatic TMP’s as the group marches past you back into the warehouse-type room with your original kidnappers. You don’t have long to wonder why they’re marching back into the room. Just as the doors to the elevator are closing, you hear the confused shouts of your kidnappers get cut short by rapid gunfire.

No witnesses. That’s never good.

You’re not in the elevator for long. The doors open to reveal a long hallway with more industrial style architecture. The guard in front of you starts walking forward and the guard behind you lightly pushes you to follow. His presence behind you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you’re ushered forward, it feels like you’re walking through a cross between an old factory and one of the old Umbrella labs. Some things appear to be 40 years old or more, and other things, such as the doors, have been updated to be futuristic sliding electric doors with keypads for additional security. The wheels are turning in your head on what this place of operations could possibly be, but you don’t have enough information to make any solid conclusions yet.

The guard in front of you scans a key card on the panel next to the door, it beeps, then the door gracefully slides open to reveal another hallway similar to the last one, but completely renovated; bright white and futuristic. The architect clearly took inspiration from the old Umbrella labs.

About halfway down the new hallway, you realize you don’t feel the presence of the guard behind you anymore. You look over your shoulder and stop in your tracks when you see the guard unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

Huh. How’d that happen?

When you stop walking, the guard in front of you turns around, probably to get you to keep moving to whatever cell these people have prepared for you for you. But as soon as the guard turns around, you see a gray blur drop from the ceiling out of the corner of your eye. The gray blur, a ginger headed man, punches the guard, which makes the guard stumble but he regains his footing quickly. They exchange a few attempts at hitting each other; the guard tries to swing the electric baton but the mystery man dodges the attempted strike. The mystery man gets a few good punches in and successfully disarms the guard, but the guard is able to catch the man’s wrist, the guard then uses his forearm as leverage to pin the man to the wall. It looks the guard is trying to cut off the mystery man’s air circulation, but the man has enough strength and fighting know-how to not get knocked out.

For a moment, you don’t know what to do. You don’t recognize the new man. The only thing you know is that he’s a skilled fighter, and the other guard isn’t going down easy. You also know you can’t escape by yourself, and the B.S.A.A. doesn’t know where you are.

Help the stranger it is.

You run over to the unconscious guard and grab his electric baton and grip it the best you can with your hands bound together. The mystery man is still pinned to the wall by the guard and is trying to wiggle free.

You sprint down the hall, wind up the prod, and smack the guard on the side of the head. The guard doesn’t go down like you hoped, but the shock of you hitting him with the baton gives the mystery man enough time to grab the guard with both hands and ram him into the wall, knocking him out cold.

“You good?” You ask, somewhat out of breath.

The man stretches his neck and arms, nodding his head. “Never better. Thanks for that.”

Now that the man isn’t brawling with the guards, you get a better look at him.

A nagging sense of familiarity emerges in the back of your mind. You’re positive you haven’t met this man before. You couldn’t have. You would have remembered the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face that stretches from the junction of his cheek and nose all the way down to his jaw, or the buzzed ginger hair. Those features aren’t exactly forgettable, yet some detail that you can’t put your finger on in the moment keeps tugging at your memory.

You shake off the feeling. You can sort that out later, but right now you have more binding things to focus on. You hold out your wrists, still bound in the cuffs.

“No problem. Mind returning the favor? The key’s in his chest pocket.” You point your chin to the guard that you shocked.

“Sure thing.”

Jake saunters over to the guard, rolls the unconscious body over to unzip the front pocket to grab the key, then walks back over to you to start undoing the locks on your cuffs. Jake’s eyes flicker between the lock and your face as he does so.

“So… you’re the hot shot scientist.”

It’s more of a statement than a question. You narrow your eyes. Jake easily unlocks the first cuff and begins to work on the second one.

“That depends… who’s asking?”

“Name’s Jake.”

Knowing his name doesn’t help you place this man’s face. You stay silent and wait for Jake to keep going and give you a last name or the company he works for, but instead he unlocks the second cuff and tosses them away, looking at you expectantly with an easy smirk.

“This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Not before you tell me why you’re here.” When in doubt, be on the side of caution. Just because this man helped you, doesn’t mean he’s on your side. You rub your wrists, trying to get rid of the sting of the cuffs being on your wrists for so long.

“Just a little… preventative maintenance for a friend. You got a name?”

You purse your lips, trying to get a read on what Jake means by ‘preventative maintenance.’ He took out the guards, so unless he’s going for a long con, he doesn’t work for the people who took you. Most mercenaries wouldn’t rescue someone on a job unless it’s in their contract, although any good murder for hire would know what their target looked like before accepting the job. You’re willing to bet his intentions are most likely in line with your own. You relax your shoulders.

“Just call me Doc. And yeah, I’m the virologist.”

The cavalier attitude Jake is exuding shifts slightly and for a moment you think he’s connected the dots on who you are, but instead Jake’s attitude morphs into optimistic determination.

“You know the periodic table?”

You stand there, confused and trying to figure out why he’s thinking about something so out of left field, but coming up with nothing. You answer honestly. “Uh… yes?”

A satisfied smirk stretches across his face. “Good. I could use your help. C’mon.”

Jake strides over to a specific section of wall and presses an unassuming panel on it. A keypad pops out and Jake starts to type on it while you stay in your spot processing what just happened.

“Excuse you, I don’t remember volunteering my expertise!”

“What’s the hold up Doc?” Jake finishes inputting the number sequence and you hear a hiss, something metal releasing, the panel of wall that you now realize is a hidden door sliding back a couple inches, then the wall panel sliding to the left to reveal an industrial staircase winding downward. Jake turns back to you, a cavalier expression on his face. “You got something planned already with sleeping beauty over there? Or are you coming with me?”

Jake gestures to the guard you electrocuted on the floor. You look at the guard, then the other one further down the hall, then back to Jake. “Lucky for you, my plans just got canceled. Let’s go.”

It only takes a few minutes to figure out that Jake knows his way around this place. The staircase leads to another series of dingy hallways that Jake saunters through with confidence. Either he’d already figured out these sections weren’t closely guarded, or he’d taken measures to make sure he wouldn’t have to worry about surveillance. Either way, you’re relieved to be in the presence of someone who knows what they’re doing and isn’t trying to hold you hostage.

“So… you didn’t say who you work for.”

Jake thinks about his answer, then shrugs and keeps walking. “I consider myself an independent contractor. But right now, I’m on the B.S.A.A.’s payroll.”

“Really? You don’t strike me as B.S.A.A.” You know for a fact that the B.S.A.A. recruits almost exclusively from armies around the world. Army life causes soldiers to have a certain disposition. A certain disciplined way of carrying oneself resulting from years of drills and training. Jake’s body language felt much too relaxed for that lifestyle.

“I’m consulting.”

You give the man a half smile hearing that. The way Jake said that made it sound like he wasn’t exactly happy about it, but accepted the job nonetheless. Something you could easily relate to. “What a coincidence, so am I.”

“For viruses? You some kind of expert on bioweapons?”

You shrug and keep following Jake. “I’ve got a good amount of practical experience.” It’s a true but vague statement. Jake doesn’t need to know the details of why you know so much. Any mention of your past with Umbrella or Wesker never ends well with strangers.

Jake looks over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “Don’t give me that humble bullshit.”

You scoff and smile. Definitely not army. “Okay. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who knew more. Better? What do you need to know?”

“Give me a rundown of the G-Virus.”

You don't answer for a long moment, stunned. “The G? These guys went through the trouble to get me here for that?” Your tone is incredulous.

“What?” Jake doesn’t sound confused at your reaction. Only curious.

“It’s just… unstable and obsolete compared to other bioweapons. It’s not exactly competitive against strains nowadays where infected can tell the difference between enemy and ally.”

“Obsolete huh? What’s your theory on why they have it all the way out here then?”

“They’re… low on funding and have limited options? Or they didn’t care what they’re buying.”

You pause, realizing Jake can fill in some missing information for you. “And who are ‘they’ and what is ‘here?’ I didn’t get a good look at anything on my way in.”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “You must piss off a lot of people.”

You roll your eyes at Jake’s comment and keep following him. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“Not judging, I respect it. I’m on a fair share of shit lists myself.”

“If you don’t know the answers, you can just be honest about it.”

“Alright alright. Technically, we’re in Japan, but it’s more of a small as shit island in the Pacific. I was told this was a former Umbrella research outpost.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion. “I didn’t know they had labs this far out from the mainland.”

“Neither did I, but ya learn something new every day.”

Eventually, the dingy hallways and platforms lead to another mechanical door that reveals another white hallway not unlike the ones you remember from Umbrella’s previous headquarters in Raccoon City. You don’t have much time to reminisce as you follow Jake to a door at the end of the hall.

The room you enter is somewhat dated. The equipment here looks like it came straight out of the 90’s, but with some modern updates in a few choice sections. Jake ignores all of that in favor of leading you to the other side of the room where a mechanical door and a keypad are waiting. The door is notably one of the only things in the room that’s been updated.

“Mind taking a crack at this Doc?”

Jake hands you a note with an Umbrella header on it:

Pierre if you’re reading this, I’ve changed the password to the specimen room. I know it impedes business to change it so frequently, but the boss insists on the highest level of security due to the nature of the special project. The new password is your namesake element on the periodic table. Just type in the atomic number and weight in that order. Don’t mess it up again. That damn alarm will lock everything down and Aimi nearly blew a gasket the last time I had to get the security key to disable it again.

“You brought me here for this? Seriously?” You look at Jake like a disappointed mother. Do schools not teach the manmade elements in chemistry anymore? In your mind, you think that Jake went a little overboard bringing someone with a PHD to solve a periodic table puzzle. Jake doesn’t react to your question. He just keeps up the cavalier attitude.

“So you can solve it.”

“You know Google exists, right?” You reply, deadpan.

“No service in the middle of the ocean. Are you going to help me out or not?”

You scoff at the comment, then hand the note back to him and stride to one of the bookshelves. “Yes. It’s Curium.” You thumb through the spines trying to find a chemistry book of some kind.

“But his name’s Pierre. You sure?”

You find a ratty chemistry book with university library stickers all over the spine. Bingo. You pull it out and flip through the back pages, finally finding what you were looking for: a periodic table.

“Pierre Curie and Marie Curie discovered the element. That’s the answer. Type in 96247.”

You snap the book shut and you hear Jake typing in the code on the door. Now that Jake’s errand is almost done, it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge. Or the ocean in this case.

“After you run your maintenance we need to find a radio, or a ride out of here. I don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere longer than I need to be.”

“I’m no travel agent, but I think that can be arranged.”

You turn to join him, but a logo on some papers scattered around on the desk by the bookshelf catches your eye; a Tricell logo. Your eyebrows scrunch together. Albert partnered with Tricell for the Uroboros project and the company has been defunct since Africa happened four years prior. Why is that logo here of all places?

You hear a beep behind you and a mechanical door sliding open with a soft hiss as you pour over the documents. They’re copies of internal documents relating to the development of the Africa strain of Plaga parasites with yellow highlights all over them. A large label that reads ‘G – U’ stuck on a keycard is blocking one of the notes so you move it to the side. More concerningly, the only things you see highlighted are locations of labs and sites of infection with handwritten margin notes in Kanji that you don’t understand.

“Hey uh, Doc?” Jake is calling you from inside the room that was unlocked.

“Hm?” You respond, still half-focusing on the Tricell documents.

“I don’t think these guys had limited options.”

A sense of dread starts to form in the back of your mind when Jake says that. You speed walk over to the now accessible room. It’s a large, white room with rows of what look like display cases. You see Jake looking through the glass and into display on the other side of it. You walk up next to him to look for yourself and your heart drops to your stomach when you see what he’s talking about.

On the other side of the glass, you see a complete family of Plaga parasite strains. As you walk down the aisle, you see the original strain from Spain, all the way to the newest strain that popped up in Edonia a couple years back. Although to your relief, you see that the Amber strain which allows the infected to have both strength and free will isn’t displayed.

You glance at the aisle behind the Plaga parasite display. You immediately recognize the familiar T-Virus series. It’s concerning how thorough the collection is. Even without reading the placards underneath each sample, you recognize the strain that caused the outbreak at the Spencer Mansion, the T-Abyss virus from a few years ago, a few different failed strands from the Marcus-Birkin projects, among dozens more. You feel your heart skip a beat when you see the T-VERONICA placard, but you relax when you see that the sample holder is empty.

“Doc? Talk to me what’re you thinking?”

Even with the display cases missing a few of the more powerful specimens, it was still the most comprehensive collection of viruses and parasites in a single place that you’d seen in your career.

“They nearly have the whole damn catalogue in here.” Your tone is grim. Samples as comprehensive as this can only spell something bad on the horizon, but you’re not too sure what.

“I don’t understand what their play is here.” You state, still walking along the T-Strain aisle and examining each sample. Your footsteps echo around the room from the grate flooring. Based on the setup, each one appears to be a live sample.

“I think I do. They’re trying to be a one stop shop for bioweapons and this is the showroom.” Jake spits in disgust.

At first glance, Jake’s observation appears correct. But upon closer examination, that conclusion doesn’t quite fit. You slowly walk along the aisle and look at Jake through the glass in the aisle opposite. He’s examining the strains in the G-Sample section, looking back and forth from the samples in front of him and his phone.

“I want to agree with you, but I don’t think that’s it.”

Jake stops and looks at you confused. “Why?”

“They don’t have nearly enough inventory. These are samples. An unusually comprehensive collection of samples, but there’s only one of each.”

Jake shrugs. “Maybe it’s somewhere else.”

Again, a logical conclusion that doesn’t quite fit. “Outside of this facility? Possible. Here? There would have to be at least a few dozen rooms like this to store everything properly.”

You stop walking.

“And logistically, it just doesn’t make sense. We’re practically in the middle of nowhere. Why would a business owner put their showroom in one of the most difficult to reach places on the planet? You would think they’d want to make it easy for the buyer to review product, as well as convenient for the owner to ship out that product. Someone wanting to be a one-stop-shop would be on the mainland.“

You pause, an icy feeling washing over you. The bag on your head during your transport here and the execution of your kidnappers suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“These people don’t want to be found.”

Jake’s eyes flick from his phone to your face. “So they’re working on something big. A new G-virus?”

You shift on your feet shaking your head while looking over the G-Virus samples. “Yes to the big project, no to the G. Whatever it is, it’s not down here.”

“You sure about that? This one’s missing.” Jake holds his phone up to the glass so you can see on the other side of the G-Sample row. Jake’s correct this time: this specific strain isn’t displayed. You tilt your head in confusion.

“That’s not a strand I recognize.” At first glance, you know it's an unusual strand of G-Virus. G-Viruses are normally green in color, but this one is a sickly pink.

Jake grunts, shaking his head and pocketing the phone. “It’s never that simple. Is it? An all-inclusive virus buffet and one of the only one that's missing is the one I need.”

Jake pulls out a pistol you didn’t know he had, checks the clip to make sure it’s fully loaded, then holds it down by his side as he strides out of the room.

“Where you headed?” You call after him.

“Main lab upstairs. I’ll come get ya after I’ve got the G-sample.” He answers over his shoulder.

“Absolutely not!” You reply in disbelief and Jake stops walking, sighing in annoyance. He can’t seriously think he can take on the army upstairs with just a pistol. You try to talk some sense into him.

“We need to find a radio and get the B.S.A.A. here. These people will kill you no questions asked if they see you. Plus, that handgun of yours isn’t going to cut it against their hardware.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders, unconcerned. “I’ve had worse odds.”

“That doesn’t make lone wolfing this any less stupid! There’s a base in Tokyo, we just need to find a way to contact them-”

You stop talking abruptly when you catch a glimpse of a dangerously familiar sample. The one that changed the course of your life for the worse. The one that your dead husband tried and failed to infect the planet with. The name UROBOROS is proudly displayed at the end of the G-Virus aisle in the back, nearly drowned out by the sheer number of G-Virus samples.

You hear Jake saying something to the effect of ‘I’ll be back before they even know I’m there’ but you’re not registering what he’s saying. Your vision has tunneled to only focus on that devil sample. All it takes is one slip up by a careless scientist to infect this whole place. You think back to the keycard in the other room by the Tricell papers; ‘G – U.’ G-Virus to Uroboros. This time can be different. You have the power and knowledge to stop this.

“Hey? Earth to Doc? You still with me over there?”

“That needs to be destroyed.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you stare at the Uroboros sample. You keep your eyes on the sample for a few steps, then brush past Jake to rush into the other room to find supplies; some kind of glass beaker, metal garbage can, something to contain the damned thing when you burn it to ash.

As you begin nearly tearing the lab apart in your barely controlled frenzy, Jake steps back into the sample room to look at what has you so distressed.

“Uroboros? That’s the uh… it’s not a G-Virus is it?”

You open a cabinet and find a large glass beaker. You grab it and set it on the counter and keep looking for more supplies.

“Yes! Now less talking and more helping. There’s Bunsen burners here, so there has to be some matches-”

“Can't this wait? Is it really any worse than the other ones?”

You aggressively close some drawers as you turn back to Jake with a serious glare.

“Albert Wesker. Heard of him?” Your voice is low and controlled.

Jake’s face melts into a barely hidden look of disdain. “Yeah, I have.”

“He tried to use it to cleanse the world, as he put it. He spent years injecting innocent people with that and he was the only one who didn’t turn into a flesh-eating worm thing.”

You open more drawers and find a cleaning cabinet with a half full container of rubbing alcohol. You grab it, along with a pair of cleaning gloves, and set them next to the beaker. You start soaking random bits of scrap paper with the liquid and stuff it into the beaker.

“Not only that, he tried to launch that shit into the atmosphere with a deranged smile on his face. It nearly ended the world once and that’s not something I, or anyone, needs to deal with again.”

You put another splash of rubbing alcohol into the beaker for good measure then forcefully put the bottle on the table causing it to spill some of the liquid on the table. It doesn’t slow you down. You quickly put on the cleaning gloves and dig through the drawers around the lab looking for a lighter or matches. Smoking isn’t rare in Japan so one of those items must be here somewhere.

“So Wesker had special blood?” If you were paying closer attention to the way Jake said that, you would have easily picked up that he knew more than he was letting on. But you don’t. You’re too busy trying to get rid of a dormant threat sitting in the other room. You answer without thinking while opening more drawers by the bookshelf.

“Genetically, he was one in a trillion. But even with that, he still had to take doses of the virus periodically to keep it stable. All the more reason to nip this in the bud before it becomes a problem again.”

“You know a lot about this.” A statement of fact, not a question.

“Yeah, I do!” You exclaim dramatically as you slam a cabinet shut when there, once again, aren’t any matches. You’re so frustrated that Jake is asking so many questions and won’t just help you.

“You knew him.” Another statement of fact, not a question. His eyes are dissecting your every move now. The look vaguely reminds you of Albert and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Albert used to look at you like that when he wanted to know if you were lying or gauging your reaction to something he told you. You shake off the feeling. The Uroboros discovery is making you paranoid.

You sigh and shift on your feet, leaning back against the cabinet with your eyes on the ceiling. The scent of rubbing alcohol is strong in the silent room. You shift your eyes to Jake’s after a long moment. His expression is nearly unreadable, but there’s an underlying edge in his posture now. He knows. Not everything, but he’s catching on to why you’re so passionate about this. There’s no use lying about it.

“I knew him…well, okay? At least I thought I did before all the crazy. But right now we have more important things to do than rehash my history.”

You force yourself to tear away from Jake’s calculating gaze and resume your search.

“I nee-… we need matches. Can you just help me look please?”

You don’t hear a response behind you, and you think that Jake is going to keep asking you questions. But after you open a few more drawers you hear a rustle of fabric and a metallic tink.

“Use this.”

Your head whips over to Jake and a wave of relief washes over you. Then annoyance.

He’s holding a lighter.

He had that the whole damn time you were tearing through the lab looking for matches.

You decide it’s best to hold off on scolding him until after you get rid of the Uroboros sample. Instead, you take the lighter with a gruff thank you. You grab your supplies along with the ‘G - U’ keycard and head back into the sample room.

You enter the room with newfound determination. You couldn’t stop Uroboros on your own all those years ago, but this time it’s different. You’re stopping a disaster before it has a chance to start. You place your supplies on the floor next to the case, preparing to immediately plop the Uroboros sample into the beaker. In your peripheral vision, you notice Jake leaning against the doorframe, watching your every move.

You scan the card.

Instead of the glass sliding down into the base like you expected, it stops a quarter of the way down when a deafening alarm sounds overhead and Jake is forced off of the mechanical door when it reels shut. Before you can even call out to him, gas starts pouring into the room from the grates on the floor.

All senses of self-preservation leave you in this moment. Thousands of years of survival instinct telling you to run and claw at the door and scream for help is ignored because, once again, your thoughts are only consumed by the existence of the Uroboros sample. Possessed by only one thought: you can’t fail to stop this again. You couldn’t justify something as trivial as your own survival if it meant there was a sliver of a chance of something like Africa happening again.

You force yourself to focus, even though it’s getting so much more difficult with your mind starting to cloud from the gas. You hold your breath to prolong consciousness. There’s enough space between the glass and the edge of the case that you can squeeze your arm in and grab the damned sample. You can hear Jake banging on the door shouting your name, but his voice sounds so far away as you force the sample from its display rod and gracelessly sink to your knees.

Your hand feels unwieldy and heavy as you drop the sample into the glass beaker. Even more so as you try and fail to roll the lighter wheel fast enough to make a flame. You rip off a cleaning glove to get a better grip and you keep trying. You have to. This needs to work. You can’t fail again. You won’t fail again.

You pause to finally take a breath and force yourself not to cough from the downright bone numbing gas that’s still filling the room. Your vision is starting to blacken at the edges and your body slumps so much that you’re resting on your stomach, so you make a conscious effort to tighten your grip as hard as you can on the lighter and roll the wheel. A small flame erupts from the lighter. With a shaking hand you thrust it into the beaker and the alcohol-soaked kindling erupts into flame. You barely notice the sting of the flames against your hand when you retract it.

Everything feels heavy. You finally let your body resign to the gas and let your head rest on the ground. With each shallow breath, the darkness at the edge of your vision grows more and more prominent. You don’t hear Jake anymore, but you do hear indiscernible voices on the other side of the wall getting farther and farther away and loud pops. Gunfire? Or Jake banging on the door?

The last thing you remember seeing before the darkness overtakes your vision are blackened remains in a glass beaker and a pair of unfamiliar, polished shoes slowly walking towards you.

__________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Tag List: @killerwendigo

a/n 2: I really hate doing filler/transition chapters as a principle, but I promise that it's very necessary for what's coming. Chris x Reader is going to be on the backburner for a couple parts but I assure you he's coming back and it will feel rewarding when he does.

#resident evil fanfiction #jake muller #resident evil 6 #resident evil 6 spoilers #chris redfield x reader #not in this chapter though because PLOT #fanfiction #slow burn #no beta we die like men #The Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son

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tonyspep · 3 months

Text

~*~big, big plans~*~

A/N: this is for the 24k winter fic exchange put together by the amazing @wyattjohnston I know this is a little late, and I'm so sorry. I've never written for Nico Hischier before, so I hope I do him justice for the great @kurlyteuvo. This doesn't take place during a specific season with the Devils as I know next to nothing about their lore. I hope you enjoy this and you've had a wonderful holiday season and have a great year this year. @fallinallincurls also helped me so much with this so shout out to her.

~*~big, big plans~*~

pairing: nico hischier x oc

summary: it's the holiday season and during the break, nico has some big, big plans on the little hawaiian island his girlfriend nadia's family has been spending the holidays since she was a little girl

rating: t

she don't know /i got some big, big plans

build a little house on some hand-me-down land

find a little island where we go to get tan

i bet we take our kids down there one day

and i know she wouldn't mind if i

did a little somethin' like find a flight

overnight to paradise and leave tonight

and i'ma put a diamond on her hand

“big, big plans” - by chris lane

Nico didn't expect to find love when he was drafted by the Devils. Honestly, he was just trying to hope he would get by with what little English he knew. Then he moved into the townhouse Hallsy recommended and he met his neighbor. Nadia turned his whole world upside down. He still remembers her wide deep brown eyes meeting his own and the cute little gasp that fell off her full strawberry pout when she realized who was standing in front of her.

She fixed her hair and babbled in the most adorable way, but her excited energy as she talked about how her family had owned season tickets to the Devils forever had him smiling. She rattled off his stats with ease and before he could say anything, she hugged him close and said softly, “Welcome to New Jersey, Nico,” and from that day on he couldn't get her out of his head.

That was six years ago. He still couldn't believe they had known each other that long. How when everything fell apart with her boyfriend, she had come to him, her beautiful brown eyes red rimmed with tears, her long dark hair piled atop her head. He comforted her and though he desperately wanted to tell her he had long fallen in love with her, he kept that secret close to his heart not wanting to take advantage when she was at her most vulnerable.

Everything changed during the pandemic. Though, her parents were close by, she stuck by his side as his family was a world away in Switzerland. She showed him how to use Zoom and surprised him by learning Swiss in additon to making way too much banana bread. She added chunks of chocolate just for him. He taught her his mother's famous Swiss food and one night, everything changed when she stood on her toes – in her kitchen – flour dusting her cheeks and smelling of vanilla and cinnamon, and she initated their first kiss.

It was everything he could have dreamed of and more. Her lips so soft and warm, her scent so beautiful and alluring, everything about her drawing him in deeper and deeper.

Now there she was at the Prudential Center cheering him on at every home game. Since she was a yoga instructor, the hours worked out perfectly for her to be able to come to nearly every game. Her parents – David and Savannah – welcomed him with open arms, which he was thankful for considering he had bought a beautiful ruby ring two months ago before both the Thompson and Hischier clans would be converging on the big island of Hawaii to spend the holidays together.

Vacationing in Hawaii to escap the harsh Jersey winters had been a tradition for Nadia's family since she was a little girl and the past two Christmases Nico had come along. Now, his family was coming. He could still hear his Mom's excited shouts in Swiss when he told her and his Dad of his plans of proposing. They had loved Nadia from the first moment they met. Welcoming her as if they had known her for years after their very first interaction.

“I can feel you staring,” Nadia as sweet as she was had a sharp tongue, and Nico could hear the teasing tone of her sweet voice. “I can enjoy the view,” He easy volleyed back, taking in her alluring shape as she finished packing her suitcase.

“What if I want you to do more than enjoy the view, huh?” Seeing her tongue wet her perfect pout had Nico groan low and deep in his throat.

Easily crossing the threshold of their bedroom, Nico had the petite brunette wrapped in his strong arms in seconds. Bending slightly as she stood on her tip toes, they kissed sweetly, their tongues tangling as her fingers found purchase in his thick hair while his roamed her back. Pulling away, they were breathing heavily and their eyes were full of love and heat. Nadia let one of her hands stay tangled in Nico's soft hair while the other trailed down his toned chest, feeling the muscles underneath his cotton t-shirt. He felt nothing but heat from her fingers.

Her soft sigh sent his blood rushing through his veins. “Can't wait to be on the beach with you,” Nadia mused. “Love seeing you get tan and how you can't keep your hands away from me. I packed the red bikini just for you, Neeks.”

“Nadi,” A desperate growl as she gave an impish smile promising nothing but trouble. “It's your favorite,” Her tone was dilberately innocent as she batted her lashes coquettishly. “How could I not bring it?”

They were talking too much Nico decided as he swept his girl up into another passionate kiss and laid her down on their bed, covering her petite body with his strong frame. They spent the rest of the night before they would leave for Hawaii in the morning, wrapped up in each other and with every kiss and every touch, every soft pant of his name, he knew more and more that Nadia was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He could see her walking to him on David's arm in the most beautiful white dress. Giving him a cheeky wink and sticking out her tongue to make him laugh – you're too serious, neeks loosen up, baby – and how he would stick his tongue back out at her. He could hear him say I do and her say the same words back. He could see them fixing up their spare room; painting it a sweet and sunny yellow with sage accents the perfect mix of boht of them as their little girl would be. He could see them bringing her to the same resort they would be staying at once they touched down in Hawaii. Watching her play in the sand and the surf giggling as he chased her and Nadia, cuddling with her, seeing her grow and learn and change.

Kissing Nadia's head as he listened to her breath while she was wrapped in his arms, Nico couldn't imagine a better life for himself.

He only hoped when he got down on one knee, Nadia would say yes.

The first night was spent unpacking and enjoying a traditonal luau as the two families toasted each other and the holiday season. Nico was sure he had never seen a more beautiful woman than Nadia under the tiki lamps and the pink and orange of the setting Hawaiian sun. Her beautiful green and teal maxi dress hugged her figure perfectly. Her eyes were bright with happiness, her laughter infectious, every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper and only made him more certain of what he was going to do.

Her father David sent him knowing looks and winked, and he couldn't help but flush. His Mom couldn't resist mentioning how beautiful the resort would be for a wedding and Nadia murmured in his ear, “I always thought so. I wouldn't mind getting married here,”

Their fingers were linked together and she had brought their intertwined hands to her lips when she said that, and Nico felt his heart skip several beats. He wouldn't mind getting married here. The sun setting behind them and making her look like an angel.

He finds his voice, kissing her softly and says, “Me neither,” the smile he receives back is absolutely blinding and he's more confident than ever she'll say yes.

Being a yoga instructor, Nadida is an early riser. Even on vacation, so to no one's surprise both she and Nico are up early the next morning. Nico can't resist his eyes shamelessly roaming over Nadia's beauitful body in her choice of a red two piece sports bra and leggings set. The red ribbon tied in her high ponytail makes her even more adorable to him.

He can feel Nadia's eyes on him. The sight of her biting her lip has the heat rising and he smiles as he wraps his arms around her, ready for their morning yoga session as she giggles and tries to wriggle free. He kisses her all over as he lifts her from her feet making her giggles grow louder as he laughs, his hands roam over her curves. They fall into the lush grass, a tangle of limbs before he manages to get her tiny body under his strong frame.

“You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen,” His voice is husky and honest, making her shudder. “Neeks,” His nickname falling from Nadia's lips, makes him want her so much. Her deep brown eyes are shimmering in the morning light, making him love her even more.

He can feel the ring inside the pocket of his shorts and he knows this is the moment. The sun peeking through the palm trees, the birds chirping, the ocean lapping lazily against the sand and Nadia looking like a princess even her sports bra and leggings.

Caressing her cheek softly with his finger tips, he uses his other hand to reach into the pocket of his shorts and her little gasp is the cutest thing he's ever heard.

“Nico...” She whispers. “Shhh, Nadi,” Nico says softly. “There's only one thing I want you to say, but let me say what I have to first.”

“Okay,”

“I couldn't believe the most beautiful girl I had ever seen was so close when I had first moved to Newark after being drafted, that she was right across the hall from me. I never wanted any sadness to come to you and I hated that I was happy when Jason broke your heart because all I wanted was to have you for myself, but the thought of someone hurting of you, of you feeling any pain was something I never wanted. When you came to me, your beautiful eyes red rimmed, your tiny body shaking, all I wanted to do was hold you and do whatever I could to make you smile again...”

“And that's exactly what you did. You gave me everything I could ever want. You're my Prince Charming, Nico,”

“And you're my Princess, Nadia. So there's only one thing for Prince Charming and his Princess to do; to live happily ever after. Nadia Isabel Thompson, will you do me the utmost honor of becoming my wife and making me the happiest man in the world?”

Nico watched as Nadia's eyes went wide when he presented her with the gorgeous ruby ring. Her beautiful face was awash in pure happiness as tears filled her big beautiful chocolate eyes while she nodded and said in the sweetest voice, “Yes, yes! Yes, yes! Yes, Nico I'll marry you,”

Just as he slipped the ring onto her shaking ring finger, they heard the happy yells and cheers from their families as they ran from their respective bungalos on the resort, champagne in her Dad's hand and the other family members holding champagne flutes.

Hugs and kisses were exchanged. He shook hands with her Dad and Nico felt like he was floating. Nothing could be better than this.

Except for when Nadia was by his side when he was lifting the Cup and then when he was holding their beautiful little girl.

@nicohischier @nadia_yoga said yes!!!! #engaged #hawaiianholiday #merrychristmas

@nadia_yoga i said yes beaches!!!! #engaged #hawaiianholiday #merrychristmastome #merrychristmastous

@jackhughes way to go cap!!! congrats u crazy kids!!! gonna be so turnt for the wedding!!!

@dougieham i have the most incredible best man speech planned. vince vaughan and owen wilson ain't got nothing on me #shout #bestmandougieham

More and more comments flooded both Nico and Nadia's instagram pages as the day went on. After celebrating with their families, they spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other as they showered each other with love more happy than they ever dreamed they could be.

As the sun set behind them, they danced on the beach, holding each other close. The waves and their heartbeats providing the music as they swayed softly together.

In this moment, they knew they were meant to be together and that their lives were just beginning, both of them imagining being right back here as husband and wife and then with their kids; a strong willed, funny girl with Nadia's big brown eyes and a sweet, soft spoken little boy who had the same smile as Nico.

all i am, i'll be

everything in this world

all that i'll ever need

is in your eyes

shining at me

when you smile /i can feel

all my passion unfolding

your hand brushes mine

and a thousand sensations

seduce me cause i

i do cherish you

for the rest of my life