#sweetlike blood writes

[sweetlike-blood]

Beautiful stranger, sitting right there

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!Reader CWs : COVID conscious (masked) reader, mutual pining, meltdown, panic attack WC : 4.5k words

 Summary : Ghost meets this mysterious stranger on the train, one the captivates his attention like no one else. After a few encounters, your face becoming a familiar fixture in the metropolitan environment, Ghost stumbles upon you on a bad day and helps you through it.

Ghost had been glad for the reprieve the pandemic had offered him – it made him stand out way less often in crowds with his covered face. The blessed few years where masks had been enforced had put a balm on some of Ghost’s anxieties, which was why he had been so disappointed when the mandates had been lifted (despite the still ongoing pandemic) and people had bared their faces again. Not everyone, mind you, since Ghost still met some masked people once in a while.

But they were now just as standing out as he had been years before the pandemic, the eyes of the public glossing over his half-covered face with a mix of reactions – disgust, curiosity, some fear, some anger. Ghost was glad he still had the half excuse of not wanting to get sick (and the more wide-spread availability of masks) in his back pocket, that is, if anyone dared to approach and/or ask him. Ghost was used to the odd stares, had been even before he had started covering up his gnarly scars under thin fabric. 

Ghost was tired. He had just come back from an overseas mission and the only thing he wanted to do was collapse in his bed. But it had been so long since he had been back to his apartment that his fridge and cupboards were barren – nothing fit for a meal or even a good snack. Thus, here he was, taking the bloody metro just to go do some groceries. It just so happened that it was a tad after rush hour, the metro finally only sparsely occupied.

Ghost was slumped in his seat, half-absently looking around, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, a cap firmly rooted on his head alongside the faithful cloth mask he used when he was in civil clothing on his face. Suffice to say, he made a (brooding) sight, not counting on his imposing stature that usually deterred anyone from messing with him. It was as his eyes sweeped the empty seats opposite to him that a figure rushed in and sat down. Even from a distance, Ghost could hear their small pants, as if they had run to catch the train. Ghost watched as they pulled their small backpack in their lap, wrapping their arms around it as they breathed in and out. A white N95 mask was covering half of their face, contrasting with their dark coat and clothing. Fogged up glasses were perched on their nose, moving as they sniffed and adjusted to the calm.

Ghost watched as they pulled their cellphone from their pocket, its clear case catching the bright light of the train. They tapped a few things, Ghost noticing some headphones plugged into the device, the cord stretching up towards the sides of their head – odd, considering people’s preference for bluetooth, these days. Ghost himself was a fan of wireless earphones, mostly models small enough to look inconspicuous most of the time, which was why Ghost never strayed outside without his trusty pair. Ghost watched their face, noticing their air of concentration, visible in the crease of their brow, as they considered the screen of their phone. They eventually heaved out a sigh before putting their phone down, holding it limply as they rested their hand on their backpack, their gaze finally settling on their surroundings.

Ghost’s breath paused as their eyes sweeped on him – their eyes looked pale, but with the distance and the glare of the light on their lenses, Ghost couldn’t tell the exact colour. He noticed their eyes crinkling, as if they were giving him a smile, as they settled their gaze around his face before continuing to glance around. They periodically checked back their phone, most likely replying to some messages, if Ghost was to guess. Their behaviour was… intriguing. Not many people smiled at Ghost in public. But before he could ponder it some more, his stop was called.

He swiftly stood up, coming to a stop in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. He was standing conveniently just beside the intriguing person as he waited. He gave them a side glance, finding them already glancing up at him. They startled a little, their eyes going wide before they quickly averted their eyes, their fingers tightening around their phone. Ghost huffed a small chuckle – it sometimes amused him to see how people reacted to him – before stepping out of the train and exiting the station. He had, after all, some groceries to do.

You had almost missed the metro, once again. You were panting as you sat down, thanking whoever above had answered your earlier prayers. You just couldn’t afford to be late to another work shift, or else your manager would chew you out. You liked working in the small cafe, even if it was exigent and the hours stretched until late. Your few scattered shifts covered your expenses that weren’t taken care of otherwise, whether by your scholarships, your savings or your parents. You were lucky enough to be able to study abroad for a year, you were not about to fumble your opportunities. Plus, you liked the free coffee your part-time job brought you. That and the pastries, of course.

You caught your breath as you scrolled through your phone, replying to a few messages and scrolling through your feeds a little before sighing and turning it off. You then glanced around the train, your eyes trailing on its other occupants. Your eyes caught onto the slumped figure sitting in front of you.

The other man was, well, large, there was no other word for it. Yet, he looked deeply bored and tired. His eyes, from what little you could see under his cap, seemed to be rimmed with dark circles. His posture was relaxed, sitting with his knees spread open – you internally rolled your eyes at men’s insistence of taking as much space as they could while in public. But what caught your eye was the dark mask stretching on the bottom half of his face. You smiled as you saw it, feeling a sort of kinship and understanding in between maskees. You were, after all, also masking yourself, and you always loved to see other people be conscious and mindful in public by wearing a mask – keeping yourself (and your loved ones) sick-free was one of your top priorities besides getting your doctorate degree. 

You then continued to glance around, periodically looking at your phone as you felt it buzzing with oncoming notifications, replying to friends. You mentally counted the stops before you had to disembark, watching the clock on your phone and being relieved to see that you would be just in time if you didn’t linger too much and walked a bit faster than usual. You felt a breeze and lifted your eyes to look at the masked man, who had come to stand in front of the doors. He was even more imposing than you thought he’d be and your breath was caught in your throat as you watched him.

Suddenly, your eyes met his and you startled, jumping a little before quickly averting your eyes, already feeling a blush rising on your cheeks (thankfully mostly hidden by your own mask). You heard a deep, huffed chuckle just as the door opened and the other man stepped out. Your eyes trailed after him, watching him walk towards the exit as the door of the train closed and the ram started again, taking you towards the next station. 

He was… intriguing, and your thoughts turned back towards the glimpse of dark eyes you got when your eyes met as he was standing. You shrugged internally, it’s not like you would see him again anyways. You thought about him up until your station was called. Then, you focused on getting to work on time, no place for daydreaming about the large masked man you had seen in the metro.

Ghost saw the stranger again a few weeks later as he was once again taking the metro on the tail-end of the evening rush. He recognized them from their bright white mask as soon as they entered the train, taking the seat opposite of him once again. They were dressed just like they were the previous time, their dark coat open to reveal dark plain clothing, their trusty backpack on their lap. He had nothing to say, for he himself was also pretty much dressed the same having only, however, traded his cap for a beanie, since the weather outside had grown colder and colder as winter came closer – it was only mid-autumn, but the chill felt nipping, making Ghost wish for more temperate climates – and/or more action. 

They seemed more drawn and tired than the last time he had seen them, their face looking pale and deep bags under their eyes. They seemed distracted, as they alternated between glancing at their phone or the floor, their eyes looking vacant as they did so. Ghost felt intrigued by this change of behaviour. But then, he didn’t know them at all, this was merely the second time they crossed paths. He didn’t have a name, or anything that could tell him anything about their person. Only that they were masked and had an odd reaction to him.

Once his stop was called, Ghost stood up, coming to wait in front of the door. He gave them a side glance, just like last time, his heart skipping a beat in his chest as he then saw them turn their head upwards, giving him that same look – crinkling eyes, gaze softening slightly, a smile – as the last time. Ghost didn’t reply with a smile of his own, simply observed them for a second longer before the door opened and he rushed out.

Infrequently, Ghost crossed paths with this mysterious person. Always towards the same time, roughly the same days of the week. He assumed, now, that you were probably making your way to some type of job, and that your dark plain clothing was perhaps a uniform – that was the most logical conclusion. He never saw you on his way back from his errands, meaning that you were out much longer than he was.

As the cold started to permeate every crevice of the city, the interiors got warmer and warmer and Ghost felt more tired than ever. This time of the year always hit him the hardest. Like clockwork, as soon as the sun dipped early and low on the horizon, Ghost’s nightmares came swirling around in the fog and the wet days the winter season brought. It also meant that he hated going out after sundown, simply because it was grating on his nerves and he was miserable enough as it was, between his fucked up traumas and triggers as well as his demanding job plus the seasonal depression. He itched to be out on a new mission, maybe somewhere warm where the sun was better, but Price had grounded them at least till the end of the year citing a need for some touch-up training and to get some paperwork done – Ghost suspected the Captain had another reason about why he wanted to be home for the upcoming holidays. 

Ghost had started going out earlier in the days he was free, trying to not think about how strange it was to not find this mysterious stranger sitting in front of him as he rode the train. He was surprised, however, one Tuesday morning, when he saw you, the one he hadn’t seen in some time, slide into the train. And it was you, there was no doubt about it, despite your more colourful outfit and different backpack – you had that same white mask tight on your face, the one detail that always gave you away, alongside the particular frame of your glasses.

This time, however, all seats were taken up and you huffed, adjusting your backpack before settling beside one of the poles scattered through the train, holding onto the metal so as to not fall as the train picked up speed. Ghost stood up before overthinking it, the movement catching your eye as you were facing the row Ghost was sitting in. Ghost signalled for you to take up the seat. At first, you shook their head, but seeing that Ghost wouldn’t budge, you shuffled over to sit in the now free seat. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the train sounds. 

“Welcome,” Ghost simply replied, his voice sounding a bit gruff as he put his hand up to grab one of the handrails dangling from the ceiling.

You gave him that same look, this smile that reached your eyes even if your mouth was covered up, before averting your eyes, looking around the half-filled train – less packed than in rush hour, but still busy nonetheless. 

“You didn’t have to,” you say after a stretch of silence, your eyes flitting back towards Ghost.

“Don’t worry,” Ghost grunted in response, tightening his hold overhead. 

Your voice held an accent that was undeniably not british – a foreigner, then, another layer to your oddity. Your gaze then seemed to be fixed somewhere behind Ghost, which made Ghost take the opportunity to simply observe you in silence while the metro moved, taking in your appearance – the bright yellow of your shirt peeking from underneath your black coat, the rusty brown of your high-waisted pants, topped up with dark dirty rain boots.

You looked… good, Ghost found himself thinking. His eyes flitted on you as you rode the metro, slightly squirming in your seat. He watched as you pulled out your phone, sending off a few quick texts before turning it off. You glanced up, surprise clear as you saw him still looking at you. As you averted your eyes, he noticed a slight blush rising near the edge of your mask. His own eyes sparkled with concealed amusement as he saw your reaction. What a little nervous thing you were, he thought idly as he noticed your fidgeting fingers, still wrapped around your cellphone. 

(Too) soon, his stop was called and he grunted you goodbye, heading for the door. He swore he could feel your gaze drill a hole in his back as he exited the train and headed for the exit.

The next time he saw you was just as unpredictable as the last one. For one, he had gone out with the lads and thus, was heading back to his apartment much later than he was used to. But Ghost knew bonding was important for his team members (and his Captain), so he made due. Still, he left relatively early after only two pints (not near enough to be drunk or even tipsy), the rest of the lads probably still laughing and talking it off in the pub they had met in.

Ghost took off his beanie, passing a hand through his hair as he waited for the train, anticipating the longer ride back than his usual. He swiftly stepped inside the train as it stopped in the station, and was about to make a beeline for a seat when he saw you. You were tucked away in the far back of the wagon and at first, he thought you might just want some calm, considering the late hour, but then he noticed your trembling shoulders and how curled up on yourself you were.

Without thinking, Ghost approached until his shadow loomed over you. You hiccuped, your gaze snapping up to meet his own as soon as you noticed his presence. Your eyes were filled with tears, some having already dripped down towards the edge of your mask. Ghost could see the panic, clear and glinting in your eyes, even as you quickly averted your eyes. 

“Everything alright, luv?” he asked softly as he crouched in front of you, making sure to keep a wide stance to better keep his balance around the train's movements.

You let out a soft whimper at his question, a batch of fresh tears sliding down your cheeks.

“None of that,” he said softly, reaching a hand out, palm up, offering you comfort.

Your fingers shook as you wrapped them around his own, hiccupping as you tried to control your panic.

“Breathe for me, that's it,” Ghost said as he gently squeezed your hand. 

Your eyes found his, panic still etched on your face, and Ghost felt his heart constrict at your evident distress. He was clueless about what could've triggered your panic attack – Ghost was all too familiar with those. 

“Breathe, luv, just breathe,” he squeezed your hand again. 

You let out a shuddering breath, trying desperately to still your breathing. Ghost gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles in a circular motion, hoping the repetitive gesture could help ground you.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered after a few minutes, your voice cracking.

“Is ok,” Ghost replied softly, continuing to offer you silent support. 

As the minutes passed, your breathing grew steadier and steadier until you went rigid. “That's my stop,” you mumbled, struggling to get on your feet. 

“Lemme take you,” Ghost said softly, standing up and offering you his arm. 

You gratefully took it as you stood up on shaky legs. Ghost helped you out of the train, his previous itinerary forgotten the moment he saw you in distress. Ghost could feel your hand twitching around his bicep as you both made your way out of the station and out into the streets. The change in temperature immediately made your glasses fog up and you sniffed as colder air filtered through your mask. 

“S-sorry,” you repeated as you stepped to the side of the station. 

“No need for that,” Ghost said softly, glancing down towards you.

You were sniffling, your breathing much calmer than before but still slightly stuttered. Your face, from what little he could see, looked splotched red, most likely from the crying and, now, the cold. You took a few deep breaths before letting his arm go. Ghost immediately missed having your hand wrapped around his arm, missed your warmth that he had felt even through his layers of clothing. Instead of dwelling on it, he kept himself busy by putting back on his beanie.

“Sorry,” you muttered, once again. 

“No need to apologize, now,” Ghost shook his head. 

“I-” you glanced towards your hands, which were tightly wrapped around the straps of your backpack. 

“No need to be embarrassed either, luv,” Ghost said, tilting his head as he looked at you.

“Well, hard not to,” you let out a weak chuckle, your eyes darting around Ghost’s face.

“None of that. Mind if I walk you home? Just to know you got there safe and sound,” Ghost changed the subject.

“I… sure,” you replied in a sigh after a moment of hesitation.

“Onwards, then,” Ghost said softly before following after you once you started walking. 

Ghost kept close to you as you walked towards your home. He stayed silent, at war with himself about what to (or not) say. Ghost could hear your breathing steadying even further as you walked, your shaking subsidizing, albeit a hand tremor still seemed to be persisting – Ghost noticed as you pulled out your cellphone to check something, noticed the way your fingers gripped the device a bit too tightly, the way the screen shook just a little. After around a dozen minutes of walking, you started to slow down until you stopped in front of an apartment building. 

“That’s me,” you pointed awkwardly towards the front door.  

“Got a lot of stairs to go?” Ghost asked you.

“Not much, third floor,” you replied with a soft shrug. “Thanks for, uh, staying,” you added hesitantly.

“Not a problem,” Ghost replied, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans jacket – one of his nicer coats, he had dressed up a little to go out with the lads. 

“Sorry for, well,” you waved a hand in front of your face, which was still covered with tear tracks and a red tint. 

“Panic attack?” Ghost simply asked.

“More or less,” you shrugged. “Meltdown,” you continued more quietly. “Things just got, too much. I’ll spare you the details.”

“Hopefully you get some rest,” Ghost said, at a loss for words.

“Yeah, hope so too,” you sighed tiredly. “You too, get some rest,” you added a bit awkwardly.

“Will do,” a small smile twitched on Ghost’s lips, not that anyone could see.

“Thank you, again,” you said earnestly as you glanced towards the front door of your building.

“Of course,” Ghost simply replied.

“See you?” you asked quietly.

“See you,” Ghost nodded, watching as you got inside and unlocked the entry door.

He was still looking at you when you glanced back, giving him that same soft smile he had come to know (almost by heart). He stayed rooted in place until you disappeared upstairs, staying even a few more minutes just to make sure you got home well. He took note of the surroundings and location of your building before starting to make his way back to the metro station.

“Hello stranger,” you greeted the mysterious (and benevolent) stranger the next time you two saw each other in the metro. 

Your paths had crossed more and more in the last few weeks – it seemed like the two of you were creatures of habit, always sitting in the same train. He was always on when you got in and always left before you did. You surmised that he must live a bit further down the line and perhaps got off at the station he does for errands. You didn’t try to give it too much thought, or else your mind could stray for hours thinking about this mysterious stranger – his imposing stature, his ever-present mask hiding the bottom half of his face, a hat of some sort always hiding the top of his head, the deep brown eyes you could still glimpse in between. Even to his clothing, or even the slight peak of ink you had caught on one of his wrists one day. Your eyes strayed, alright, it was hard to not look at the man. 

You thought that your little crush would be just that, a crush on a stranger on the train, but then you had a shit day at work and your boots got soggy from the rain, your feet wet and suddenly everything was just too much. Your breathing had picked up at first, panic constricting your throat as you walked to the station. You vainly tried to control your breathing and thoughts, but you found yourself spiralling, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you waited for the train to come.

Once the train got to your station, you took one of the furthest seats, trying to hide your panicked state as much as you could until you got back to your apartment. As you sat down, your breath hitched and a few tears escaped your eyes. Your throat felt tight, you felt like you couldn’t breathe, your mind just screaming at you. Useless, look at how you are, fucking whiny bitch, just crying because you got your feet wet and got a few too many customers yelling at you today. Spineless, useless, why even are you crying, look at the mess you’re making, they’re all laughing at you, how pathetic you are. Just a useless, useless wh-

Then you had felt, more than heard, someone approach, your eyes snapping up to meet him. Your stranger. There he was, approaching before kneeling by your side and asking you to breathe. You felt even more bad, what a pitiful sight you must be making as you cried and held onto his hand with a tight grip. Yet the stranger was calm and gentle with you, going as far as to help you walk out of the station and back to your apartment.

You had made it upstairs on unsteady legs, bone-deep tired from your meltdown and all the emotions it brought to the surface. You didn’t have the energy to do much besides drop your bag beside your bed, change into pajamas and get under the covers, barely remembering to plug in your cellphone before bundling yourself into the covers and succumbing to your exhaustion. 

And now you were face to face again, for the first time after that last incident. When you entered the train and saw him, you hesitated, debating with yourself, before sighing and approaching, greeting him with a soft smile behind your own mask. Even if you had lingering embarrassment at the thought that he had seen you in such a poor state the previous time, a part of your mind was comforted by how unphased and gentle he had been with you, such a contrast to his harsh exterior. 

“Hello,” he greeted you back, his eyes flitting on your face.

“How are you doin?” you asked him a bit awkwardly as you took the seat beside him.

“Good, you?” he asked back.

“Good, better,” you nodded a bit stiffly.

“Good,” he nodded too before falling silent once again.

You gave him a side-glance, observing his side profile, your eyes gliding on his cloth mask and the way it was tight to his face, revealing a strong nose and jaw. Your eyes flitted upwards and you startled slightly when you found him glancing back at you. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks before averting your eyes, fidgeting with the straps of your bag. 

“No need to be embarrassed, luv,” he said softly, his voice gravelly and slightly teasing.

Your blush deepened as your stomach made a flip – at the words and his voice. “Sorry,” you muttered.

“None of that now, no need to apologize,” the other man shook his head. “Got a whatsapp number?” he then suddenly asked after a few beats of silence.

Your eyes snapped to his, noticing his seriousness. You gaped under your mask – gods, you must be beet red by now – before swallowing and nodding, at a loss for words. He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, as if to spur you on to talk. “Uh yeah, yeah I do,” you blush before taking out your phone, opening up the app and pulling up a blank contact before handing the device to him. 

You watched him delicately take your phone and type for a moment before handing you back the phone. Simon, the contact read and you saw that he had already fired off a text to his own number. You added another text with your name, watching as he pulled out his own phone, unlocking it to glance at the notifications. He looked satisfied as he put his phone back into his pocket. 

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call or text,” he said to you before standing up and making his way to the doors as his stop was called.

You watched him, mouth slightly open under your mask, as he glanced back at you, giving you a small nod before stepping out of the now open doors. 

Your stranger had a name. Simon.

Thank you for reading! This was very self-indulgent and I might be partial to writing more, only time will tell….

[sweetlike-blood]

Wolfish

Pairing : gn!reader x John “Soap” MacTavish CWs : suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, flirting WC : 401 words

Summary : the first thing you noticed about the stranger was his body, then his piercing eyes. maybe you should entertain this mysterious man, after all.

The man had the bluest eyes you had ever seen. Two piercing orbs of frost, like the thick ice on a frozen deep lake. They shone with a paradoxical fire that warmed you all over, an intensity that made you feel like a pinned moth under his gaze, caught by the needle of his gaze. This intensity was only highlighted by the rest of his person. His personality was a flamboyant firecracker, a whirlwind of energy – whether positive or negative. Despite his rugged look, his musculature and his running mouth, you quickly found that he wore his heart (and desire) on his sleeve. “Call me Johnny, will ya?” he had told you after chatting you up at the bar. You had chuckled in his face before taking a sip of your drink. He then babbled, about everything and nothing, trying to get some words out of you. You had stayed mostly quiet, carefully placing a few words here and then to keep him going. It had made you cackle internally, how easy it seemed to play him – he was just a man, after all, wasn’t he? It was easy to put the poor dumbass suit on, feigning innocence as you were internally delighted at seeing him chase his own tail around with simply a small nudge, a small dangling bone in the form of a small hum, from your part.

His enthusiasm had intrigued you, but you would be lying if you said that the first thing you had noticed about him wasn’t his body – your eyes had raked him from head to toe, deeming him handsome enough to let him approach and think he got you (and not the other way around). But two could play this game, you surmised as you caught his eyes roaming on your body in a lull in your (almost one-sided) conversation. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, a crack in your dumb facade, and this small gesture seemed to ignite something in the other man, whose intensity seemingly doubled as a sharp grin stretched on his face. “Got fire in ya, don’t you, lamb?” he had whispered in your ear, a hand settling on your hips. You let him put his hand on you and simply grinned back, just as sharp. If only he knew that you were a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

This evening would prove to be interesting, you were sure of it.

[sweetlike-blood]

Is it okay I'm not okay? - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 1 - "who did this to you?"

2k ; Explicit ; Graphic Depictions of Violence ; Unresolved PTSD and mental health issues, Post RE5 (Wesker lives), Graphic descriptions of self-harm (cutting), Knifeplay

Chris shouldn't be surprised about the fact that Wesker has escaped death yet again. He is so tired of fighting (him). What happens when Wesker discovers Chris' most well-guarded secret?

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Sweetlikeblood's Chrisker Fic Masterlist

Chrisker Week AO3 collection [Link]

Is it okay I’m not okay?

2k words ; Explicit ; Graphic Depictions of Violence ; Self-harm, Mental health issues, Panic attacks, Knife play, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Chris shouldn't be surprised about the fact that Wesker has escaped death yet again. He is so tired of fighting (him). What happens when Wesker discovers Chris' most well-guarded secret? For Chrisker Week Day 1 - "Who did this to you?"

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When the sun goes down we all get lonely / Watch me as I disappear 

2k words ; Mature ; Major Character Death ; Soulmates, Soul bonds, Canonical character death

There are things in the world that simply are - they are unquestionable, evident. Soulbonds are amongst such things, whether they are familial, platonic, romantic or other. Albert Wesker wished he hadn't been born with the gift of the Seers : being able to see every stringy bond that tangled every human on the planet together. For Chrisker Week Day 2 - Red String of Fate

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Our little secret

1.3k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; STARS era, Secret Relationship

Chris has been less subtle with his crush on their Captain than he thought he had been. When his friends teases him and unsubtly try to push him towards his Captain, what happens? Not much that hasn't already happened before, it seems.... For Chrisker Week Day 3 - STARS team playing matchmaker

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Masquerade - Stringing you along

4.7 words ; Explicit ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Canon compliant, Masquerade, Undercover mission, Marking, Hand jobs, Come eating, Semi-public sex

Chris cursed Jill for falling ill just as they were supposed to infiltrate this Masquerade Ball organised by an influent bioterrorist, posing as a married couple. Forced to go alone, Chris comes face to face, or rather mask to mask, with his old Captain. Hand in hand, the masked devil and angel navigate this unconventional evening, as old wounds reopen and emotion guides their actions. For Chrisker Week Day 4 - Possessive

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But do you feel like a young god? 

1.1k words ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Post-RE5, Pre-RE6, Albert Wesker lives, Rescue, Ambiguous/Open ending

Chris makes an odd discovery while out on a mission with his protégé. For Chrisker Week Day 5 - "You're safe now"

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pray sinner, pray sinner, say a prayer for me

1.9k words ; Explicit ; Graphic Depictions of Violence ; God!Wesker, Champion!Chris, Blood and gore, Human Sacrifice, Hurt no comfort, Transformation

Chris thought he had managed to escape the cult he grew up in. But one does not stop being the God of Annihilation's champion that easily. For Chrisker Week Day 6 - "You're a wound that never heals"

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Herein is enshrined the soul of…..

WIP ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Modern!AU, Violinist!Wesker, Meet-ugly, Slow burn, Mental health issues [more CWs in tags]

When Albert lets his temper get the best of him, miscommunication ensues. What happens when he cannot stop meeting the orchestra's new oboist's brother? Just how close will the two men grow together?

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White lilies

595 words ; Mature ; Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings ; Overdosing, Coma, Hospitalization, Drug addition, Ambiguous relationship

Albert visits Chris in the hospital.

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The Making of a Home

2.7k words ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; P30 Chris, Mind Control, Domesticity

When Chris jumped at Wesker in hopes of saving Jill's life at the Spencer Estate, he had never thought he would end up in the grasp of his archenemy - much less reduced to an oddly domestic role in the older man's life.

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A Clash of Fangs

WIP ; Explicit ; Graphic Depictions of Violence ; Werewolf!Chris, Vampire!Albert [more CWs in tags]

It all starts one snowy day in 1794. But when the wind turns and lovers get separated, what awaits them? What does fate have in store for these two different men? Find out 230 years later… Or The werewolf x vampire romance (transcending time) that Chris and Albert deserves.

[sweetlike-blood]

When the sun goes down we all get lonely / Watch me as I disappear - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 2 - Red String of Fate

2k ; Mature ; Major Character Death ; Canonical Character Deaths, Soulbonds, Soulmates, Emotional Hurt, Bittersweet Ending

There are things in the world that simply are - they are unquestionable, evident. Soulbonds are amongst such things, whether they are familial, platonic, romantic or other. Albert Wesker wished he hadn't been born with the gift of the Seers : being able to see every stringy bond that tangled every human on the planet together.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

A Clash of Fangs || A Chrisker Werewolf x Vampire AU

For the @monsterfucktoberbingo - werecreature & vampire

WIP | Graphic depictions of violence | Werewolf Chris, Vampire Wesker, Plot with a sprinkle of porn [more TWs in tags]

It all starts one snowy day in 1794. But when the wind turns and lovers get separated, what awaits them? What does fate have in store for these two different men? Find out 230 years later… Or The werewolf x vampire romance (transcending time) that Chris and Albert deserves.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Masquerade | Stringing you along - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 4 - Possessive

4.7k ; Explicit ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Canon compliant, Masquerade Ball, Infiltration, Ballroom Dancing, Semi-Public Sex, Marking and Biting, Hand Jobs

Chris cursed Jill for falling ill just as they were supposed to infiltrate this Masquerade Ball organised by an influent bioterrorist, posing as a married couple. Forced to go alone, Chris comes face to face, or rather mask to mask, with his old Captain. Hand in hand, the masked devil and angel navigate this unconventional evening, as old wounds reopen and emotion guides their actions.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Sweet Melody - a Jake Muller x Piers Nivans story

Written for the @rerarepairmonth

4.9k ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; College AU, Getting Together, First Date

Piers is so close to finishing his aerospace engineering degree, he's only got one semester (and one elective) left! What happens when he takes on a class on music history and ends up falling for his mysterious TA?

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

pray sinner, pray sinner, say a prayer for me - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 6 - "you're a wound that never heals"

1.9k ; Explicit ; Graphic Depictions of Violence ; God!Wesker, Champion!Chris, Religious Cults, Blood and Violence, Heart Ripping, Human Sacrifice, Hurt No Comfort, [see more CWs in fic tags]

Chris thought he had managed to escape the cult he grew up in. But one does not stop being the God of Annihilation's champion that easily.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

But do you feel like a young god? - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 5 - "you're safe now"

1.2k ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Canon Compliant, Laboratories, Unethical Experimentation, Rescue, Open Ending

Chris makes an odd discovery while out on a mission with his protégé.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Hunter's Capture | Piers Nivans x Jake Muller

2k ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings ; Dragon AU, Half-Dragon!Jake, Hunter!Piers, Kidnapping, Identity Reveal

What happens when Piers gets whisked away by a dragon in the middle of an investigation? Why has been taken, just who has taken him?

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Herein is enshrined the soul of..... (part 1) - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 7 - Free Space

8.5k ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Modern AU, Violinist!Wesker, Veteran!Chris, Meet-Ugly, Slow Burn, Time Skips, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Mental Health Issues (including PTSD, depression and panic attacks), Making Out

When Albert lets his temper get the best of him, miscommunication ensues. What happens when he cannot stop meeting the orchestra's new oboist's brother? Just how close will the two men grow together?

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Our little secret - Chrisker

Written for @chrisker-week Day 3 - STARS team play matchmaker

1.3k ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Secret Relationship, Teasing, Team as family, Banter

Chris has been less subtle with his crush on their Captain than he thought he had been. When his friends teases him and unsubtly try to push him towards his Captain, what happens? Not much that hasn't already happened before, it seems....

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

Sweetlikeblood's Resident Evil Fic Masterlist

For my Chrisker Fic Masterlist : [Link]

Mullvans | Jake Muller x Piers Nivans

Sweet Melody 

4.9k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; College AU, Musical references, TA!Jake, Student!Piers

Piers is so close to finishing his aerospace engineering degree, he's only got one semester (and one elective) left! What happens when he takes on a class on music history and ends up falling for his mysterious TA? For the Resident Evil Rarepair Month Week 5 - College AU

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Aching

1k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Piers Nivans Lives, Injury, Chronic Pain, Physical Disability, Established Relationship

Jake was always the best person to comfort Piers on his bad days.

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Hunter's Capture 

2k words ; Teen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Fantasy AU, Half dragon!Jake, Hunter!Piers, Kidnapping, Identity Reveal

What happens when Piers gets whisked away by a dragon in the middle of an investigation? Why has he been taken, just who has taken him?

Cleon | Leon Kennedy x Claire Redfield

Favourite colour 

244 words ; Gen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Character Study

If you asked Leon S. Kennedy what his favourite colour was, his answer would vary.

Clalex | Claire Redfield x Alex Wesker

Kneeling at the curtain of your hips

1.6k words ; Explicit ; No Archive Warnings ; Established relationship, Mistress/Pet, Obedience, Oral Sex

What's another evening in the company of Alex Wesker, Claire asks herself?

·

Do bioweapons dream of love?

1k words ; Mature ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Established relationship, Suicidal thoughts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Claire had those moments, those moods, it was just a fact. She had so ever since she was young – perhaps it had all started when their parents had died, when she had been left almost all alone, only entrusted in the care of her older brother. Claire felt it hard to care about things sometimes, about life, especially since her own seemed to only be a series of catastrophe, death and loss.

Nivanfield | Piers Nivans x Chris Redfield

'Cause you know the good die young / But so did this

2.2k words ; Explicit ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Uniform kink, Punishment, Blow Jobs, PWP, Power dynamics

Piers has been kneeling for god knew how long in Chris' office. Surely the young sniper has learned his lesson, has he?

Albert Wesker

V for Violence, W for Wesker 

738 words ; Mature ; Major Character Death ; Character study, implied Chrisker, Canonical character death

Violence was all that Albert Wesker had ever known

[sweetlike-blood]

Aching - Jake Muller x Piers Nivans

1k ; Teen ; No archive warnings apply ; Chronic Pain description, Medication, Established Relationship, Post-RE6 (Piers lives)

Jake was always the best person to comfort Piers on his bad days.

[Link]

[sweetlike-blood]

V for Violence, W for Wesker

Violence was all that Albert Wesker had ever known

Implied Chrisker ; Character Study, Omnipresent violence ; [738 words]