Valentine's Day (Albert Wesker x F!Reader)
Main Master List || Resident Evil Master List
Warnings: Idiots in love
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February 14th. A day that some spend with their loved ones, but for you, it’s just another day at the office. It’s extra cold in Racoon City by the time you step foot through the door of the police station, shaking off excess snow as people rush around you.
“Good Morning (Y/N),” Rebecca smiles politely, eyes tired from being up all night.
“Good Morning Rebecca. Heading out?” Despite her tiredness, Rebecca eagerly nods, tying her coat tight.
“Yep! Have a good night.” Night? The young medic doesn’t say much more as she races out the door leaving you in the lobby surrounded by cheap decorations. Shrugging your shoulders, you trudge your way up the stairs and to your shared office space, but the sight of your desk stops you in your tracks. A large bouquet of flowers – the expensive kind – sits in a decorated vase on your desk with a note neatly tucked between leaves.
“Got a secret admirer I don’t know about?” Chris jests lightly, leaning against your desk with a cup of coffee in his hands as Jill types away on the computer at her desk.
Sighing, you set down your bag and pluck the notecard from flowers, your name inscribed in neat cursive. “You’re here early, Redfield.” Jill snorts, lifting a polished eyebrow but not deviating from her task. “Did anyone see anything?”
“It was like that when we got here, only Wesker had been in. You should ask him.”
Cursing to yourself, that’s the last thing you want to do. Your relationship with Wesker is… complicated… to say the least. Between lingering glances and soft spoken words to extra training and harsher demands, it’s never been clear where you and Wesker draw the line, let alone know how he might interact if you have a secret admirer that he doesn’t know about. That’s silly, you think to yourself, why would Wesker ever care if I have someone in my life?
“Redfield, get back to work.” His sudden presence causes you to disrupt your internal thoughts. “You too, (Y/L/N). Get to work and get rid of those flowers.” His voice is demanding and laced with something you can’t really place. It’s not his normal polished, calculated, voice.
Moving the flowers to the side, you slide into your seat and log onto the terminal as he walks away and back into his office. Once you’re sure he’s gone you unfold the envelope and pull out a letter.
Dear (Y/N),
I would love it if you accompanied me to dinner tonight. Dress nice.
7 P.M. Osteria de Luca.
Yours Truly
There’s no signature anywhere on the paper but something about that handwriting intrigues you. Maybe Jill can help identify the writing. “Psst. Jill.”
Her blue eyes flicker up to you, a smile on her lips. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Do you think you can find out whose handwriting this is? Run it in the database?” Cocking her head she rounds to your desk and peers at the writing.
“It almost looks like Wesker’s.”
“No way, it can’t be,” you hiss at her as she shrugs her shoulders.
“I can scour the database but look at his mission reports.” She winks before sitting back in her chair, returning to her computer as heat blooms under your skin. Surely it can’t be Wesker. Can it? The thoughts run in your head as you think of what to wear tonight.
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Your hands fidget with your rings as you struggle not to bite at your painted lip. After further analysis of the handwriting, it had to have been Wesker’s, but at the same time it doesn’t make sense. If it was him who wrote it and gifted the flowers, why would he not just ask you directly? You didn’t take Wesker as a man who would hide behind a gesture. Regardless, you stand in the doorway of the restaurant in a dress and a pair of heels, hair in a nice updo as you anxiously look at the clock. 6:59. “Ugh this is stupid.” You try to leave the restaurant but a solid body blocks the door. “Excuse me.”
“(Y/L/N). What are you doing here?” His voice stops you in your tracks as you look up at him and you’re floored. He’s so handsome outside of work. Wesker looks his normal polished self but in a black suit and without his glasses, revealing his ice blue eyes.
“I was supposed to be meeting someone here, but I don’t know who.” He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know who you’re supposed to be meeting and you still went? I thought I taught you better.” He moves you and him out of the doorway as couples continue to pile in, eager to celebrate Valentine’s Day with their loved ones.
“Yeah, it’s rather stupid. I guess I’ll take my leave. Good night Captain.” Again, his body blocks yours. “Excuse me.”
“Would you perhaps like to join me for dinner?” The question comes as a shock to you as you step back, a puzzled look on your face.
“Are you not meeting anyone here? It’s Valentine’s Day at a nice restaurant.” He shakes his head, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding you and him to the host stand.
“I normally come on the second Friday of each month. I quite like their cacio e pepe.”
The host spots Wesker and smiles politely, grabbing two menus. “Follow me Mr. and Mrs. Wesker.”
“Oh no I-”
“Just go with it,” Wesker comments, urging you to follow the host. The host leads you to an intimate corner of the restaurant and Wesker pulls out the chair for you, adjusting you before taking his own seat.
“Enjoy your evening.” The combination of everything has your head reeling. Was Wesker the one who got you the flowers? Was he the one who wrote the letter? No, he didn’t seem to know about it. What is going on?
“I must admit, I thought you would have plans for the evening, judging by the flowers on your desk this morning,” his eyes pierce into you and you don’t know whether to feel intrigued or nervous.
“I don’t know who they were from. There was a letter attached to it telling me to come here and I was curious.” You pull the letter from your purse and hand it to him. He immediately begins to analyze it. “I actually thought it was you. The handwriting is nearly identical to yours.”
“Hmm.” His eyes squint, using the dim light to try to make out each stroke and indentation. “Interesting. Someone has copied my handwriting. They, however, used a pen I would never use. In fact…” he leans in, finger running over the back. “Jill uses this type of pen. Where were the flowers from?”
“Some shop called Pollen Supply Company.”
He sets the card down and returns to his normal composure. “Interesting. That flower shop is by Chris’s apartment.” Everything clicks into place.
“Are you suggesting that Jill and Chris went through the time and effort to not only buy flowers and replicate your handwriting but to also place them on my desk without you noticing to do what? Play a prank on me?” Why would they do that? They know how you feel about Wesker, so why would they do that? Tears well in your eyes briefly as you look away, humiliation rolling in your gut. “I’m sorry Captain. That is wildly inappropriate even for them. I should leave.”
“I must admit. I am glad they did.” Your head whips to him. A single tear rolling down your cheek. “Though I would prefer them not to have meddled with my affairs, it’s forcing me to take a step I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“What do you-”
“(Y/N), would you like to… go out with me?” His voice is sincere but you’re hesitant. Could this just be another prank? No, Albert Wesker doesn’t play pranks.
Relaxing in your seat, you set your purse down and place a napkin in your lap, cracking a smile for the first time that night. “Yeah, I would like to go out with you.”
