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harcove · 3 years

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i do hava an oc whos in the stars, shes the younger one, so maybe a leon x reader au in which leon falls in love with stars member reader? (in case, leon goes to his first day and all there's no apocalypse)

I love love love this cause I love the idea of another younger S.T.A.R.S member, and lowkey its reminding me of my own OC who, while she doesn't join S.T.A.R.S she joins the BSAA later in life. So this was super fun to write.

I kinda got carried away with a like first meeting thing so it's kinda open ended... But I hope this is good-

Length: 1.3k

Request: in the ask

Warnings: nope! Maybe that this is an AUish thing oop

Leon Kennedy x Reader AU: The Rookie

The police station was more abuzz than usual; not that it was ever entirely to exciting in a small town like Raccoon City. But it was really abuzz that day, and everyone knew why. There was supposed to he a new recruit coming in, a new officer, and that hadn't happened in a while apparently, especially not one as young as the guy coming in.

All you knew was he was around the same age as you, was a boy, and that his name was Leon. You couldn't help but also feel a bit excited to have the RPDs little family grow bigger. Though you weren't sure how much of him you would totally see, being part of the S.T.A.R.S unit.

Your hands reached up as high as you could stretch them, holding the letters on cardboard paper up so you could pin them up above the office for the officers. Behind you, you heard Chris Redfield bite into an apple.

"It's crooked," he said amused as he leaned against the wooden railing by one of the doors that led to the main hall of the RPD, watching you, bemused, "and you spelt Welcome wrong."

Your eyes bugged out of your head as you whipped your head back to your fellow S.T.A.R.S member, who also happened to be not just a friend but also a real pain in the ass sometimes.

"No its not," you said half trying to convince yourself, leaning back, almost falling off the table you stood on to look at the sign you had almost fully pinned up.

"You're right," he took another bite from his apple and chewed on it thoughtfully before continuing, "you spelt it right, that was a test."

"A test for what?!"

"To see if you could win a spelling B," he shifted his weight from on leg to the other as he crossed them behind him.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a piece of tape off your arm where you had placed a few pre cut pieces before for easy access, you started finishing placing the sign up.

"You're hilarious," you said, "no really. I'm so glad you're here to make jokes instead of helping me put this up."

"I'm eating," he stated, "and I am helping- move that a little to the right, it's not even."

You obliged reluctantly.

"Jill would never do this to me. She'd help," you pouted.

"Jill babies you."

"Jill just likes me more than she likes you," Jill wasn't THAT much older than you and neither was Chris.

Chris didn't bother responding to that last statement as he threw the core of his apple into the trash bin by the door, and held his hand out for you.

"I'll finish," he said, looking between the sign and you, "you keep making it crooked."

As much as you wanted to get down and stomp on his foot for that one, you opted on just rolling your eyes as you took his hand as did a little jump off the table, steadied by Chris' hand.

"Just hurry up," you watched Chris get up onto the table and take the tape you had, "I want one of those donuts Barry brought into our office this morning before they're all gone."

You managed to get your donut, Chris finishing the sign hanging in record time. With a glazed donut in your hand you decided to head back downstairs to the entrance before work caught back up with you in the S.T.A.R.S office, and mainly to see if the new guy had arrived yet.

Hopefully the sign was nice. It wasn't your idea alone; when Wesker had mentioned in the office one day that the main force was getting a new member soon, you had decided to ask them yourself, curious and interested. Rita, one of the female officers, had told you that it was true- not that you hadn't already believed Wesker, and that she thought it would be a nice idea to do something to make him feel a little more welcome in a completely new place with seasoned officers. So came the idea of the sign.

You weren't paying attention when you bumped into a strong body and almost dropped your donut.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-" you choked a bit on the donut in your mouth as you started to apologize to the person, only to meet eyes with a man you didn't even recognize; but his eyes were so captivating and something about him felt familiar. Like you could trust him already.

"No, no," the young man started, cutting you off. He seemed a bit nervous, and you noted the uniform he had on; RPD officer, "I wasn't paying enough attention, I'm new here and-"

"Leon?" You only realised after you'd said it how weird that must've sounded, knowing the name of a guy who had never even met you till now and vice versa. It was plain as day on his confused face, so you quickly continued, "we all heard a new officer was coming- so your name, that's how I know!"

His face softened a bit but his brows were slightly furrowed like he was a bit worried, no, nervous. A small smile played on his lips, "word travels fast here then?"

"Well," you cleared your throat, "in a small place like this, yeah, kinda."

His eyes scanned the museum turned police station before coming back to meet yours, an eyebrow raised.

"Small?"

"Well," breathing out a laugh you swallowed, "it's a big station, but not a huge force. We're not the biggest city."

"Ah, makes sense," he smiled amused at you, seeming to relax a bit more, "so you're one of the officers?"

"Um, kinda. I'm part of the S.T.A.R.S. unit. Special Tactics and Rescue Services. We're kind of... A branch off of the main force, and smaller. With a different office, upstairs."

"No uniform for you guys then?" He sounded a bit disappointed at the realization you had a different office.

You looked down at your outfit, the only thing really indicating you were even part of the police, and S.T.A.R.S being the badge on your hip, "ya... Not yet. We have some ideas for some but, I'm not a big fan. Between you and me, I'd like to not have to wear a uniform. Uh, no offense."

"None taken," he chuckled and you found you liked that sound, "You know my name but I don't know yours...?"

"Oh, right," you reached your unoccupied, and clean from donut residue, hand out to shake his, "Y/N L/N, member of the S.T.A.R.S unit, and also the best member. Don't let Chris tell you otherwise when you meet him."

"Of course," his hand was much bigger than your own, "wouldn't want anyone to sway my opinion."

"Of course not-" your voice was cut off as you heard the receptionist not too far from the two of you clear her throat and call out to you.

"L/N, Mr. Wesker is asking for you upstairs; something about a report..." she trailed off as your eyebrows lifted considerably.

"Oh... Shit," a report you had neglected in favour of literally anything else, and mainly with that sign you had put up in the office, "I'm sorry to cut this short Leon, but uh... Duty calls! You're gonna fit in here great, don't let any of the others push you around, it's all in good fun but they can be real pieces of work sometimes! I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, of course," he felt his ears turn hot.

You left the new rookie cop to stand in your dust as you raced to get upstairs, preoccupied by a report you had only half finished. But Leon couldn't take his eyes off of you, or where you had been standing. A bit lost in thought.

He didn't wanna admit it, but he might've already been falling for one of his colleagues. And he knew he'd be seeing you a lot. He'd been so nervous, and you had made him feel welcomed from the start. You were something special, something he was definitely going to hold on to if he could.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #re2 remake #chris redfield #mine #amy writes #i love big bro annoying chris #resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #also GUESS WHO LEARNED HOW TO DO A READ MORE ON MOBILE AHA THIS GAL #leon kennedy

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thatgoblin · 3 years

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Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy x Rookie Reader Headcannons

Leon

At first you were in awe of your lead. THE Leon S. Kennedy was showing you the ropes and helping train you for the job you'd dreamed of. Hero worship was common in this line of work, but you did your best to keep it to a minimum. You didn't want to embarrass yourself after all.

In place of that hero worship came this insatiable need to make Leon proud. Whether it was memorizing and nailing every written exam or physical test, you wanted to earn his praise.

You worked hard, harder than almost everyone it seemed. Leon never saw you slacking and saw how serious you were about the job. Protecting people was what you had always wanted to do with your life.

So when the grades came back that you weren't doing so hot, you were mortified. How could you let this happen? You didn't slack off, you studied everything you could get your hands on, hell you watched instructional videos on YouTube before bed! But you still weren't making a passing grade.

You thought you would be okay with the physical part, but no matter how hard you trained, no matter the extra hours you put in, you just couldn't seem to get what everyone else did. The moves were simple, why couldn't you just grasp them?

The only thing you thought you had going for you was the firing range, but even that was less than acceptable. Every time you tried to do something the pressure got to you and you messed up. You were so busy trying to make sure you didn't fail Leon that you were failing yourself.

It was when you were called into your commanding officer's office to speak about your grades that you were sure you were done. You were given two weeks that were used for break to study and practice and retest. But you'd already had nearly four months and the best you could do was subpar.

You were in your room, packing your bags because you knew you were going to be kicked out of the program when Leon showed up.

"Hey, Kid, you leaving for break?" He asked as he leaned against the door frame of your dorm.

"Uh. . . No," you said, hanging your head in shame. "I'm flunking out. Figured that it would just be easier to pack my bag now than wait later till I was officially asked to leave."

"What? How are you flunking?" Leon asked, straightening up. "I watch you every day and you're one of the hardest working cadets I've seen."

"Hard work doesn't mean much when you can't apply it correctly," you said. "I can't get the fighting technique right, the written exams are all a bust, and I can't even shoot a gun right. I don't deserve to be here."

"Have you asked for help or for someone to tutor you? That's what I'm here for, you know," he said, moving into the room to sit on the bed next to you.

You stared at the floor as you took a deep breath, feeling all the insecurities come rushing through to the surface.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," you said. "I mean, I wanted to do it all myself without help. I wanted to make you proud that you were my lead. If I was always asking for help, what good does that do? It shows that I can't do something on my own and need my hand held like some baby."

Leon sighed as he folded his hands together between his knees.

"I get it. I do. Wanting to make your leader proud and show how good you are, but we're a team here. No one is by themselves. You're only so good as your team is and if you're not doing well then that's a reflection on us," he said.

"Oh god, are you guys getting in trouble because of me?" You asked, looking at him horrified that you were possibly making things hard for your team.

"No, no, I mean. . . We're a team for a reason. You have to lean on us and trust us so when we need to, we can lean on you and trust you. If you need help studying or practicing outside of classes, I'll help you. That's why I'm here. It can be hard to ask for help in any situation cause it means you're admitting to a weakness, but that's okay. That's how we get stronger as individuals and as a team," Leon said.

You nod with a sigh. "I have two weeks to get better before I officially am asked to leave. I don't know if I can do it on my own," you said. "Can you help me?"

"Of course. I've got your back, Kid," Leon said, giving you a soft smile.

Chris

The B.S.A.A. was not for rookies, but they needed recruits so here you were. They provided training on weapons, protocol, how to work the gear, basically everything. Because they wanted everyone to be a well oiled machine out in the field, they made sure if you couldn't cut it that you didn't make it out of training. It was life and death and while they needed the hands, they weren't sending people out to die.

The trainers rotated to take classes of trainees. You were lucky enough to get the legendary Chris Redfield for your class leader. He would be teaching everything and making sure that everyone was ready. You had heard of him before, knowing that he was a weathered agent and could almost do anything was daunting.

Which was probably why you tried to avoid him at all costs in one on one situations. He wasn't mean or an ass, but he was intimidating. His stature and history were more than enough to show he knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn't want to feel stupid or embarrass yourself, so you kept him at a distance as you worked almost on your own.

Sure there were classes and work that you were trained in, but just the fear of being the weak link in front of others was hindering you. All of your tests and physical training was mediocre at best. Sure there were people that weren't going to cut it obviously, but you were much closer to their end of the spectrum than the other end that was running circles around you.

It wasn't that you couldn't do it. You could, but sometimes you froze up because your hands did something your mind didn't want to do or nerves made you stutter and stumble over your words. Everyone in the class at least had a background in the military or the police force or FBI or CIA or some other group that was similar to this.

You on the other hand did not. You came from a more technical background rather than a physical one. While you were miles ahead on the written tests, the physical ones were going to kill your career.

So when the notice went out that you were on the chopping block to be let go unless you could prove you were capable of being in the field, you weren't surprised.

Half of you wanted to keep trying, but the other half was telling you to pack up and go. You weren't unique or special, so why bother to continue to try?

It was when you were were working with one of the large guns by the shooting range, that Chris approached you. Before then, you two hadn't said a word to each other outside of the classes or even directly to each other.

So when his large frame took a seat across from you, folding his hands on the table after setting a file next to him, watching you with the gun, you weren't sure what to think.

"Hi," you said, freezing as you looked from the gun to him.

"Y/N, right?" He asked. You nodded as you set the pieces of gun on the table. "Why are you here?"

Oh Jesus, no. Why now? Why here?

"Uh," you said, blinking rapidly as your brain tried to come up with an answer. "Because I wanna help people."

"That's usually the answer I get," he said, sitting back to let his hands drop into his lap. "That or 'to kill bio weapons.' That's also a popular one."

"Yeah?" You said, unsure of what he was getting at.

"But I don't think it's why you're here," Chris said. "Because I think you don't know why you're here." Opening the file, you could see it was all information about you. Your background, schooling, family, credit score, even online usernames. They had everything. "When I was looking through the potential trainee's info, you struck me as odd. It's not exactly an every day thing that we get people who are more tech inclined rather than have a police or military background, but it happens. Usually they wash out though and end up in our research department."

"But I don't want to be in the research department," you said, frowning. Was he going to push you over to that section of the organization? You didn't want to be there though, otherwise you would have applied there.

"Every time I talk to someone and they have the chance to go to research after speaking to them about it, they take it," Chris said. "They figured out they can't cut doing the ground work so they move to a different field, but not you. I see you everyday in training, working your ass off to keep up with everyone and you almost make it. Not quite, but almost. Almost isn't going to cut it out on a mission."

"I know, I just. . . I'm working on it," you said, trying not to sound hateful or rude as your hands started to move on autopilot, putting your gun back together. "I'm really trying and I just can't get over this stupid hump that's holding me back."

"What's that? What's holding you back?" Chris asked.

"Me. I'm holding myself back," you said with a sigh. "I second guess everything because everyone around me has the experience that I don't, but I know I can do it. I just choke when it's time to act."

"I know you have some experience that they don't," Chris said. You nodded, understanding what he was talking about.

"I was a kid when it happened, I could barely call it working experience," you said, pushing the empty magazine into the gun.

"It was for Sherry Birkin," Chris said. "Raccoon City for a 9 year old isn't something to sniff at. From what the reports said, you were by yourself for three days before you made it out."

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you moved to the handgun next, disassembling it easily. "Hid in my apartment till I saw military trucks driving by then ran out."

"You lost your whole family to what we're training you to fight," Chris said, keeping his eyes on your hands as your fingers moved without faltering as you put the gun back together. "You were a kid when that happened. I say it still counts for experience that no one else really has. You know what you're doing with the infected and you know what it's like in the aftermath. We need people who know what it's like so that we can stop it from happening again."

"So what do you propose?" You asked, looking up as you finished putting the handgun back together. "After school training? Tutoring? Or do you want me to be counselor for survivors or shove me off to R and D?"

Chris chuckled as he closed the folder to look up at your face.

"I'm not gonna cut you," he said. "You know what you're doing and you're right. You're hang up is yourself. I'm gonna work with you to get over it. It's probably one the easiest things to work through really."

"You mean I can stay?" You asked, relaxing back into the chair, not even realizing you had grown so tense.

"Yeah. I just watched you take those weapons apart and put them back together in record time without even pausing," he said, pointing to the guns in front of you. "I want to work with you, Y/N. This isn't going to be an easy fight, but I really believe you have what it takes to be a good B.S.A.A. agent."

"Thank you, Sir," you said, smiling softly. "I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. We'll start some one on one combat training tomorrow before class. You're going to be working double what the others are, but it'll be for the best in the long run," he said.

"Whatever it takes, I'll do what I need to," you said.

"Glad to here it. Now, while we're here in the shooting range, let's test your aim."

#resident evil #leon kennedy #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x reader

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chayacat · 2 years

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Remember, My Love. (1)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8 Village

Lycan Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, language and Smut

***

They had been there for days. They were away from the village, hiding from the eyes of all. They had heard of suspicious activity, and they were there to find out what was going on. Who are they? The Hound Wolf Squad. The elite team of the BSAA composed of 6 members whose captain is none other than Chris Redfield. This Man had experienced things... that anyone in his place could not have endured and ended his life. But him? He had decided to fight. And he will continue. He had been told about Miranda and the strange things that had been going on in this small, isolated village in Romania since she had been there. That was their mission. HIS mission. Find out what's going on and eliminate Miranda. But he couldn't rush headlong into the wolf's mouth. He had to know more. So, he had to enter the village and talk to the locals.

So, he had gone downstairs and arrived at the western entrance of the Village not far from the workshop. The few inhabitants who were outside stared at him. Chris sighed, he expected it. He eventually arrives at the Maiden of War statue and looked at her. Despite its poor appearance, this village has impressive monuments. He didn't think he would find that here. He sees behind the statue a cemetery, and a huge door with not very singular engravings. A demon tearing off the head of a man, and a woman, that of the statue, sword in hand.

“This statue is the symbol of our village. This is what makes it all its charm, in addition to the surroundings.” said a woman voice. Chris turned his head to see Luiza standing next to him, looking at him.

“It's a lovely village, I confess that I didn't expect to find one too... isolated here. But the landscapes are magnificent.” responds Chris.

“You're a foreigner, aren't you? We've never seen your face before.”

“Chris Redfield. I... I got lost while walking around. Is it possible to see the mayor of your village?”

“Unfortunately, he is no longer there. And I don't think anyone will help you. The men of the village do not really appreciate foreigners. I would be you; I will try to find my way back to the big city... before night falls.”

“Why?” Chris replied.

“It's better for you not to know. Goodbye Mr Redfield.” responds Luiza before leaving.

Chris frowned, did Miranda warn them of his arrival? It’s quite possible. Given the look that the villagers throw at him and seen Luiza's warning... He will get nothing from them. As he turned his back to the statue to leave, he saw a young woman, who was none other than Aria, behind a gate discreetly signalling him to come to his right. Chris looked around and pretended to go to this gate on his own and the young woman walked away to let him in. Both entered the house. Aria took off her headdress and untied her hair.

“Please sit down. It would be really embarrassing for me to leave you standing in my living room. Do you want a cup of coffee?” Aria asks with a smile.

“Uh... Yes... Thank you.” responds Chris simply, taking a seat, looking all around him.

The house was well maintained, and the photos that were on the walls, constantly reminded the owners of the place. Even if they are no longer of this world today. One setting, however, stood out from the others, a masked woman, representing like a saint. It must undoubtedly be Mother Miranda. Aria returns a few minutes later with a cup of coffee and a cup of tea, as well as sugar. Chris thanked her and had a sip of coffee.

“I must confess that... it feels good to see new faces in our village. It's rare to have foreigners from the big cities here.” said Aria with a smile.

“From what I have been made to understand, I am not really welcome here.” responds Chris.

“Oh... don’t pay attention to the men of the village. They are very suspicious of strangers. They just want to protect their families you know. But they are not mean when you know them well. Oh, forgive me, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Aria, Aria Meylins.”

“Chris. Chris Redfield. Tell me Aria, I understand that... the mayor of your village was no longer there. Didn't you put someone else to replace him?”

“No... It's... It's complicated. Our village is special, since the disappearance of the last mayor... we prefer to manage ourselves; we are all very close to each other you know.”

“I see. Who is this woman on this painting?”

“Oh, this is Mother Miranda. She watches over our village. This is our... our guide. We would be completely lost without her.”

“Aria... A woman told me that no one here could help me and... that I had to leave the village. Alas, for personal reasons, I can't. Can you help me? I promise you that I would not say anything to anyone, if you fear reprisals...” replied Chris sincerely.

“Well... Everything will depend on what you ask me.” responds the young woman.

“I just want to know more about Miranda and this village, and if you need... help. I was advised to leave before night. Why?”

“Because of... lycans.”

“lycans?”

Suddenly we heard like a scream outside. But nothing human. As Chris stood up and walked to the door to see what was going on, Aria took his arm, telling him not to go out. Chris motioned to her that everything would be fine and opened the door gently without making any noise. He passed his head and looked around; the street was deserted. He gradually went outside, Aria on her heels, staying close to him. Chris put his hand on the gun hidden in his coat, ready to draw. Suddenly, a lycan pops up in front of them, causing Aria to retreat in fear and Chris draw his gun to shoot. Unfortunately, the beast was faster than him and dodged the ball, before jumping on him. More lycans arrived and the men of the village came out to shoot in turn to make them flee. Chris punched the lycan sharply, allowing him to clear and get up.

“Aria stay close to me!” Chris said, shooting at the slightest lycan that tried to approach them.

A larger and more massive lycan appeared in front of them. He was holding a huge hammer at the end of which were picks. Its fur was reminiscent of the mane of a lion. The locals may shoot him, but it's as if they were firing foam bullets. Chris slowly stepped back, making sure to keep Aria close to him. But the massive lycan propelled him further with a simple gesture of the hand, causing Aria to fall to the ground. The creature raised his hammer, ready to shoot it down on the young woman, but when she faced him, and closed her eyes waiting for the fateful blow, he stopped sharply, a few centimetres from Aria's head. When the young woman opened her eyes again, she could see the beast staring at her, without moving, as if something intrigued him. He raised his hammer over his shoulder and with his free hand, lifted Aria and started leaving with her.

“No! Let me go! Chris, help me! Please!” She screams as she struggles.

“Aria!” Chris responds as he shoots to the beast. He took out a flash grenade that he swung in front of the creature. “Be careful cover your eyes!” He shouts to the villagers.

The grenade exploded, blinding the creature that dropped Aria to the ground as well as the lycans around. The latter got up and turned against Chris, stalling against his chest. The lycans eventually left without asking for their remains, while the massive creature cast one last glance at Aria before leaving.

“Are you okay?” asks Chris, looking at Aria.

“Yes...thanks.” She simply responds.

“You are completely crazy! You have just caused our death to all! be cursed, stranger!” screamed Leonardo furious.

“Leonardo...calm down...” replied Aria.

“Calm me down? If this stranger hadn't gone out, the lycans would have just left! and Urias almost took you, you know where!”

“He saved my life, moreover he did not force me to follow him... I take it only to myself for that.”

“It doesn't change anything! You are in your interest in leaving this village! otherwise you will end up six feet underground! Either by us or by Mother Miranda! I would have warned you!” said Leonardo before leaving, like the rest of the villagers.

“Well, he really doesn't like me decidedly.” said Chris.

“I'm really sorry... the men of this village... well, you know. It will soon be dark. I know it's not much but... for saving me... I offer you a night at my house. That's the least I can do...”

Chris nodded and everything went back to Aria's house. The young woman turned on the lights when night fell on the village. Then she made a coffee again, which she handed to Chris.

“I did well to keep my old bed. It's not the great luxury but... I assure you that it is comfortable.” she said with a smile.

“It will be more than enough for me, thank you. The old man says this thing was called Urias, right?”

“Yes. That is the name it was given. At least, that Lord Heisenberg gave him. He is the leader of the lycans according to him, he would live with the lycans in the fortress, an old medieval building that is located a little further from the village. Rumors say that it would be a former inhabitant of the village, but these are only rumors, nothing more.”

“Aria... You have to tell me what you know about the village and its surroundings and about Miranda. And I would do whatever it takes to help you. You understand?”

Aria thought for a few moments. She could help him, but what does she have to gain? Nothing much. However, she had a hunch that helping her would allow her to shed light on the strange dreams she has. Maybe he can tell him more? The young woman nodded and began to tell him about the village and Miranda, as well as the 4 Lords. Chris listened carefully without cutting her, he asked her to clarify certain points and once her story was finished, Chris took a sip of coffee.

“So, if I understood correctly, since Miranda is there, the lycans attack every night. And since she and her "children" are there, people are disappearing. Is that right?” he said seriously.

“Disappearing is not really the word I will use, but let us say that they often recruit staff on their territory. However, we never heard from them.” responds Aria.

“And no one worries?”

“At first yes, but Mother Miranda said they were fine and... that those who were dismissed worked elsewhere... That's all. As for the Lycans, she explained to us that when this village was created, there was a "Nest" of Lycans here. And that the first villagers chased them out to have their fertile land. As a result, we learned to live with it and we chase them away when they attack the village.”

“I see... And of course, no one would dare to say she's lying. on pain of suffering the consequences.”

“...It's getting late. We should go to bed. If you want, tomorrow I could introduce you to a friend. He will surely be able to help you better than I can. Good night, Chris.”

“Thanks Aria. Good night.”

And it was on these last words that they lay down. The night may still be long for some because of the lycans lurking at night in the village, but for Aria as for others, it was time to sleep. Even if for the young woman, sleep will still be disturbed by these strange dreams that always start in the same way.

A falling rain and the crying of a man...

***

(Finally finished! at the moment I work in the evening so to write it's not great but the essential is that it is finally finished and published! I also have the e-book prologue of Road 96 started and Christmas is approaching.... no time to rest! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I wish you a good weekend! See ya!)

#Re8 #re8 village #re8 fanfiction #karl x female reader #Karl Heisenberg #chris redfield #lycan karl heisenberg

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear 📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go.

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

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fonulyn · 3 years

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Hi! I love all of your fics so much they always make me smile whenever I see you post! I was wondering if I could request leon seeing chris in his revelations 1 sailor costume? I think that costume is the best thing capcom has even given us so I think maybe its Halloween and claire made him wear it?

awh thank you! :) i'm so happy to hear you enjoy the ficcage! 💖also yes, that costume really is something else :'D i had the pic open in a second window while writing this little thing and it was kind of distracting lmao

"I don't know about this," Chris grumbled as he looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't know which part was worst. The sailor shirt he was wearing was so tight it was like painted on, hugging his torso in a way that practically underlined every single muscle, the collar cut so low it made him feel half-naked. It was a crop-top, too, revealing a slice of skin even with how high-waisted his pants were.

The pants were another problem: they were white shorts, and they might've even been tolerable had they not been so tight. Chris wasn't sure if he'd dare to sit or crouch down in those. His thighs might just burst the seams open. He felt absolutely ridiculous, grumbling again as he pulled the white gloves on. "Are you sure you won't reconsider?"

Claire, that asshole, laughed at him. "Nope. You lost the bet, now you'll wear whatever I make you wear." She grinned brightly as she approached him, reaching up to set the sailor cap on top of his head. "Trust me on this, you'll feel much better about the costume later on." She held out a pair of aviators and he snatched them from her to slip them on his nose, even if he was still frowning all the way.

"I don't see how this could get any better," Chris argued. "Unless half a bottle of whiskey helps." Goddamnit, Claire had even rubbed a press-on decal tattoo of a damn anchor on each of his upper arms, completing the ridiculous mock-sailor-getup.

Claire patted his shoulder, handing him a pipe of all things. "C'mon, Popeye," she teased. "Don't you trust your sister?"

Chris sighed. "Absolutely not."

As soon as they got into the Halloween party, Chris headed off to find something to drink, preferably something strong as he really needed something to stave off his nerves. Claire bounded off in her noir detective costume, already collecting long looks from more than one person. Chris absolutely refused to look around enough to see how many people were looking at him. He could do without the mockery.

Once Chris got a beer in his hands he felt a little bit better, grabbing a slice of some kind of quiche from the buffet table. He didn't even realize he wasn't alone, not before suddenly he was startled out of his thoughts by "Nice outfit, Redfield."

Grumbling, Chris already geared up to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but as soon as he turned his head he realized who it was. "Jesus Christ, Leon, don't scare a guy like that," he huffed instead, trying to play it off like he wasn't bothered at all by how ridiculous he looked.

Leon looked amazing, as always. Sure he was wearing a pretty hilarious pirate hat, but the rest of the outfit looked good on him. A long red coat, knee-length pirate boots, a wide belt across his chest, a sword strapped to his hip. Chris would've gladly swapped costumes with him, and seeing Leon in the tight white shorts would've been only the cherry on top.

"It's not my fault you lack basic awareness of your surroundings," Leon answered good-naturedly, even winking at Chris. He had an eyepatch but he'd flipped it up so it wasn't actually covering his eye, and a little petulantly Chris reached out to turn it back down.

"You're not the one who looks absolutely ridiculous," Chris said, at length, shifting a little uncomfortably in his place. "I'm not sure if there's bloodflow in my thighs anymore."

Leon looked down, letting his gaze linger. He didn't stop at that, but shamelessly raked his gaze over not only Chris' thighs but also his waist, practically drinking in the sight of his abs, all the way up his toned chest and his thick muscular arms. Chris was beginning to sweat a little under the intensity of the gaze, until Leon met his eyes again.

"I don't know what you mean," Leon said, and Chris was ninety-percent sure he didn't imagine the huskiness in Leon's voice. "I think you look absolutely smokin'." As much as he glanced at the pipe as he said it, the meaning of his words was still more than clear.

It sent all blood rushing down and Chris swore under his breath. He couldn't afford these pants getting even tighter. Besides, everyone would notice it if he'd pop an awkward boner in them. ...if he even could, realistically, the shorts were really, really tight.

There was a short pause, but then Leon went on. "If you're concerned about the lack of bloodflow, though," he said, sipping at his own beer as he let his gaze drop down, clearly suggestively, "I think I could help you restore that."

It took a second for the meaning of the words to sink in. Thankfully in those seconds Chris' confidence also returned from the war and he managed a pretty cocky grin. "I'm a respectable sailor," he teased, "what makes you think I'd follow a dirty pirate like you?"

Leon grinned. "Dirty pirates know all the dirtiest tricks."

They stayed - and continued their awful flirting - for a while longer, but as soon as they figured it'd be polite to ditch the party they headed out. Just before he slipped through the door Chris caught Claire's eye, and Claire immediately gave him a wink and a thumbs-up.

Turns out, Chris absolutely should have trusted Claire all along.

#chreon #chris redfield #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #claire redfield #some redfield sibling bonding :'D #my chreon fics #my fics

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visual-explorxtion · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Letter [Chris Redfield x Reader] - One Shot (NSFW)

Summary: In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, your captain, Chris, leads your team to find the research of the latest virus. But, the operation was unsuccessful. 6 months later, you meet him again.

A/N: Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine🙃 I’ve shat this out of my ass unfiltered brain and have little to none expectations. Was suppose to be around 2k words but somehow shat out 4k instead. So, please expect nothing but 5 am bad writings🥲

Warning: Explicit content, like, hardcore explicit content if you haven’t catch the drift from the title by now.

Word Count: 4.4k

The scent in the atmosphere reeks of damp and saltiness- stiffening the senses in your nostril. The flooring beneath your heavy boots sways left and right as the hollow hallways creaked and groaned travelling further down the extent. The repetitive flashings of door to door is already making you sick in this dusky labyrinth. It's been 30 minutes since you set foot in this abandoned ship.

Your mission objective: to retrieve documentation and possible samples of the new variant strain of the virus. As easy as a retrieval mission may sound, the location of this requisition is also a motile laboratory. Admittedly, this is a dexterous way to cover any signs of your tracks– especially if what you are making concerns the wellbeing of the world and stirring another biohazardous warfare. But, to you, the work of fighting in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean is not the most ideal place in the world.

Cautiously trekking through the vessel, you've reached an intersection with hallways splitting into three different directions. A sturdy arm extends in midair, bringing your group to a halt. You all listen attentively, a few faint footsteps and unnatural growling swirls in the air but you can't quite pinpoint its exact location. The limb drops from your vision, instead it turns to face you all. The man's face is ragged, not only from exhaustion but also from the things he has seen through time. And yet, the amber burning in his eyes remains gleaming with hope. Chris Redfield, the captain of this retrieval mission, and your sole mentor since you've been recruited by the BSAA.

Chris glanced over you all once then began to sign with his hands. He splits your group into pairs; one team going left side, your group to the right and himself pushing forward. You all nod in agreement and move out to each direction of the crossroad respectively. Weapons engaged in position, lagging a few steps behind your teammate and check your watch. 0327 hour. Well...for you, time is of the essence.

In search of any signs of evidence but nothing seems to resemble what you were sent out to find. Corpses laid dormant in several rooms, blood tarnished the metallic floor deck but it seems to be running dry on the outer edge. Meaning they've died for a good few hours ago, but you don't see any signs of struggle. No stab or gun wounds, nor were they hit by any blunt instruments. Just blood oozing out, like the body itself is rejecting the vital fluid and pushing it out of the pores. Just the sight of this is rippling a chill down your spine. If this is the new strain of the virus, then you need to speed up your search for the documents, with evidence like this proves its value.

Another two steps along, you both reached a door unlike the rest of the ones you've seen. This one appears to be more sturdy and with an electronic keypad built into it. A room with a lock tells you that things that are usually classified or kept away from the prying eyes are often kept in a locked room. Maybe this mission wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Your partner carefully grabs a hold on the door handle and swiftly gives it a twist. To both of your surprises, it was unlocked. But that leaves a pit in your stomach as you know things generally don't work so easily. You nod and he pushed it open. The room is dimly lit and the beacon attached to your gun isn't doing any better. From what little light sources you both have, you can just barely make it out that you are situated in a conference room. A long, clear glass table sits tightly in the middle of the suite, with a few cabinets on either side and a laptop oddly placed at the far end of the desk.

"There. You go see if you can find any information. I'll stand guard"

They nod, speed away towards his objective and begin its continuous tapping on the keyboard. You took several glances at them impatiently before returning to inspect your surroundings for any imminent danger. But in return, they left out a hefty breath and shook their head.

"Dead end. Can't find anything on here." they sigh.

"Go look through the cabinets. There must be something." you tip your head towards the cabinet as you respond. Peering at your watch again. 0335h. Time is running out.

As soon as their back is turned away in your direction– immediately slamming the door shut and the electronic keypad emitted a small beep with its activation. You frowned and took three shots until the electronic part fizzled and the light darkens. They tugged at the door in frustration, but it wouldn't budge. As they look up to the smug grin on your face, fist clenched and pounding as hard as they could but the door stays deadlocked. You shook your head slowly, seeing the confused look on his face as you reached into your back pouch. In your hand, a palm-sized device– caught in red and blue wires, roughly composed with a digital face sitting just on top showing the number 30 on it. The blood on their face drained as they realised what you were holding.

"I sincerely hope you can make it out alive before this reaches 0." you smile, pressing a button and leaving the device on the floor. You turn and leave them effortlessly lashing out at the door.

***

Every twist and turn of a corner, you toss a bomb as you make your way back to the crossroad, heading to the direction where Chris set off. You wonder just how much he knows about this virus, or better yet, if he had any idea of your true intentions. Nevertheless, you won't let him compromise your only mission.

In your peripheral vision, you see Chris just up ahead. You ran to him breathlessly, staggering a step or two before reaching him.

"Captain! Are you alright? I heard gunshots." you gulped.

"I'm okay. What happened to the others?"

"We got separated in the middle of our search, then I heard gunshots so I went to inspect. Have you found what we are looking for yet?"

He nodded. "Yes. It seems that the new strain of the virus is worse than we think. I'll radio the rest of the team and get HQ to pick us up."

Chris walks off just a few steps, clutching the SD card for a closer inspection. Your shoulder shifts slightly and your hand gradually reaching for the back pocket and grasp for something. As he turns to press onto his in-ear radio, you plunge a cylindrical tube into his neck and dosed him. Arm sideswipes towards you, making you tumble back but catching yourself gracefully landing on your own two feet. Chris falters on his knees, just barely managing to pull out the syringe from his artery with the SD card spinning out of his grasp.

"What did you do to me?" He managed to push out a few words.

You stare at your feet where the SD card sits shyly just next to it. Picking it up delicately with your fingers and sigh.

"You know...I went through so much trouble just for this tiny thing." you wave the chip about as you make your way around the room. "But, no thanks to you...Captain." you smiled.

Chris sinking lower towards the ground as his muscles shake uncontrollably to keep himself upright. You stroll and position yourself in front of him, meeting him eye to eye.

"Hm. Somehow, I thought you might be smarter than this. All these...role-playing...serving under you." Force grabbing his chin and you inspect his face once more. "Did you enjoy yourself? Honestly, I had fun. But, all good things must come to an end." you whispered in his ear and drew your lips gently onto his. The warm sensation fills you for a split second before parting yourself from it.

Chris's face remains expressionless from the side effect of the drug, but you see a slight hint of awe in his eyes. Now, this is getting even more humorous to you. Glancing at your watch once more, 0400h. You stand, shoving the document chip in your pocket and letting your hand rest there as you lean against the window sill.

"Oh, Captain," you hear the distant pairs of footsteps gaining closer to your direction. "I'd wish we had more time." You smirk, just as the rest of the team surrounds you, gun in hand pointing in your direction and creating a barrier between you and Chris Redfield. Lifting up your left hand, hoping to prove your innocence but really, what good would that do?

You took an exaggerated breath and rolled your eyes, any minute now. As the team inches closer and closer towards you, out of the blue, a deafening 'BOOM' went off and shook the room. Without missing a beat comes another one.

"I believe that's my cue." Before they could react, the flash grenade releases out of your hand and a shock of light hits. Blinded by the flash, they fall prone and helpless to your defence. You took a few steps back, and with a charged run, you leapt out of the window and swan dive into the cold, pitless ocean to the muffled sound of explosions.

***

6 months you've been on the run and back to working independently. News about you spread quickly as you soon become a wanted criminal by the BSAA, but you also received more work thanks to the flamboyant advertisement.

Unwinding at a corner cafe in the middle of Paris, the sun shines just enough to be blocked out by your lavish sun hat while flicking through the top news pages. 'Increasing number of outbreak cases in several countries' seems like this is just the beginning of your newly found virus, and more importantly, turning a new leaf for your career.

Sipping a glass of '82 Lafite, breathing in your surroundings and admiring the view. Observing. The bustling street of passersby, the wind waking of emerald green trees and the leisurely patrons sitting around and behind you in this cafe. Sooner or later, this place will be a shitshow and overthrown by the hands of human-induced monsters.

You slipped a couple of bills and grabbed your lighter off the table before sauntering away before somebody did recognize you, not the first time you've had a run-in with an agent or somebody just wanting that bounty on top of your pretty little head. In this neverending cat and mouse game, there's only one winner, but you're not going to be the one that gets caught.

Wandering aimlessly down the streets to the sound of mild chatter and heels clicking against the cobblestones. Strolling at a comfortable pace and casually tipping your sun hat to adjust to the warmth of the sun, you abruptly stopped.

"I believe it is a criminal offence to publically stalk somebody. Or, did you forget that already?" you tease. Looking from behind, he stood there, dressed in black from head to toe. A perfect contrast to your floral white one-piece. "Captain... Well, I guess it would be best to call you Chris now." you faintly smiled.

Chris did not answer right away. He loomed, with that familiar upright frame but even more of a worn-out look on his face than the last moment you saw him. His cheeks concave a little, his stubbles have grown out to almost form a full beard and the light behind his eyes has diminished to blackened ash. It pains you to see him like this.

"I'm here to take you back," he ordered.

"And, what good would that do?" you paused, picking out your cigarette case from one of your pockets, a row of orange and white strips arranged neatly one next to the other. You drew one out and let it sit comfortably in between your slender fingers, out of your other pocket, a gold plated zippo and with a flick the cigarette sparked.

"Taking me back so you can get your ass praised? I'd suggest you go back and be a good little captain before the world goes up in flames." pressing the narrow stick against your lips and taking a deep drag, the warmth swirls and fills your lungs all the way with a slight tingle. The smoke rolls out in between your mouth and veils your face as Chris watches intently.

"I'm not here to turn you in," he spoke firmly and his eyes never left yours.

"Oh! Interest..." you gawked. Taking another long breath in. The ember burns away more and more like the distance between you and him. Drawing you closer until there is no distance left.

***

Mind hazed in red, you stumble backwards into your apartment, hands still entangled between each other's embrace and the passionate kisses. With each touch, your senses grow more numb, filled with nothing but lust.

You made an attempt at kicking off your heels and successfully discarded one side but your frustration did not go unnoticed. He grabs the back of your knee in one swift motion, fingers gently run along the underside and tug your heel off to the corner of the room. Skimming the edge of your sun hat, with a flick of the wrist it comes off and lands somewhere. You broke off his sultry kiss, gasping for air, face flushed in rose as his face mirror's yours. The colour of his eyes now burns as brightly as you can remember– like amber melted and infused to become a part of him. Its beauty encapsulated in the door to his soul. Tempting and mesmerizing.

Chris kept a hold of his gaze on your mouth– now red and puffy from excessively sucking on it. He leans closer once more, hoping to feel the sensation of you again, but you stopped him with the slightest touch of your index finger. The pad of your finger grazes tenderly along his lower lip, you could feel the vertical creases engraved across the top. Irritated, he parted his lips just enough for him to taste you, drawing in and softly nibbling on your skin with his canine, salivating down the palm of your hand. You snap your finger back and he growls, impatient for his desire.

Snatching a fist full shirt, you lead him through the hallway and enter a cosier area. Nothing in the room speaks personality; a cream wooden drawer, soft brown desk by the window, an unkempt double bed situated in the middle and a full body mirror with a sheet draped over it. You gave a shove and he collapsed onto the bed with a grunt. Spreading his legs wide open with a kick as he props himself up on his elbow.

Hands and knees crawling towards the prone stud and stopping until you both are face to face. His eyes scanning every part of you, searching for the slightest change of your emotion– a change that might sway your mind, rejecting him. You both lock eyes for a moment– trying to sense what goes on in their mind– his eyes flicker from your left vision to your right, taking all of your facial features in, memorising them. You leaned in close, just shy of an inch away, hovering just above his mouth, feeling his presence. He attempts to lean in closer but you withdraw a little as his voice comes out quiet with a plea.

Giving him one last glance over, you parted your lips for him as his tongue enters per your invite. Compassionate and needy, his kiss became more demanding as if trying to devour you all at once, marking you as his own. His teeth nibble and softly sucking on your bottom lip, it becomes even more puff up and a few droplets of blood oozes out as he licks them away, tending for your wounds. Hands entangled onto each other clothing, tearing them off of each other's bodies with any difficulty and tosses aside.

Chris's palms roam freely from your shoulder blades and slither down, taking in two handfuls of your ass and flipping you on your backside whilst he towers you on top. His mouth leaves you with a feverish haze, running his tongue over the length of your jawline and tasting every section of your luscious chest and working a trail of kisses down your abdomen. A firm grip shift to your thighs– almost spilling out– as he parts your legs wide opening, welcoming him to take a mouthful of you. You gasped when he took you in, hands helplessly reaching for the sheets, he drinks you in and teases you playfully by grazing you with his teeth and sucking on the spot. His burning hot tongue runs down your length, protruding your entrance several times before slithering back up top again.

Deep marks imprinted on your lower lip, stifling any noise that threatens to escape your throat, but that soon was broken free by your beloved captain. A hiss slipped, reverberating in your eardrums, as two rigid fingers explored your walls which made you tense up from this unfamiliar feeling. The continuous prodding made you twist and squirm even more so, as the pace quickens, the heat in your belly grew with the flaming desire, burning you over the edge and tightening around him. Gently, he retrieves his hand as he looks down at them, spreading his fingers apart. The white silken fluid cascades down the length of his forearm– gleaming with the scent of you– he runs his tongue along his limb, tasting every ounce of you without missing a drop.

Breathlessly, you watch him attentively playing with your discharge, still strung around his long, harsh fingers, lustfully smearing it across your pillow lips before nudging them into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. A bitterness intertwined with a hint of saltiness of his digits, his hand caresses your cheek as his mouth crashes back down onto your, feeling the heat of his rising through to you. Tongue twirls on top of one another, a lick of his canine and piercing his lower lip until he grunts in pain, antagonizing his pleasure and taking back your dominance.

You smirk at the brilliance of your work, blood trickles down the corner of his mouth as he swipes away with a flick of his thumb. The annoyance painted on his face made you even giddier, but his desire for control will make you wish you never had triggered something within him. Chris gave a rough tug, sliding you closer to his peaked length, gripping your hip so mean, bruises are bound to surface the next day. He positioned himself just barely touching your opening, loosely slipping up and down tormenting your craving for him to insert his dick deep within. Taking this as a challenge, your legs wrapped and locked around his waist, seizing the means of his movement but forward. A fiery breath scatters across the dip of your neck, creating goosebumps around the area, now covered by the moisture of his saliva.

He gazes at you, cocking one-side of his eyebrow, leaving you in confusion about his ulterior motives. In your new confoundment, his teeth sink deep into the curvature of your delicate skin as he plunges all the way to the hilt. You scream, can't decide whether it's from the pain of his chomp, or him stretching and filling your abdomen to the brim. Muscles twitch in discomfort, the size of this thing is tearing your physicality and sanity apart, all thoughts scattered from your brain, only white noise occupies your mind. Subconsciously, you wiggle out of his grasp, but only for him to throw your legs over his broad shoulders, slamming back down his length, hitting all your sensitive spots again. Your back arches from the force of his retaliation and your sweet moan echoes around the room.

His hip stirs with each thrust he takes and earns a moan in return, rearranging and moulding your internal organs into the shape of his. Subtly moving across your stomach, a hand tracing every curve of your midriff and stopping just below your belly button, lingering over your skin for a few moments before putting a light pressure where a thin wall of muscles separates his cock. Your head threw back in ecstasy and toes digging deep into the mattress, hands desperately grasp for his arms for strength as you scream out his name. Bedpost banging against the wall with each bit of momentum that caused the silk sheet to fall, exposing the full-length mirror just facing you. The animalistic position that presents before your eyes startles you and makes you turn away out of embarrassment. He constrains your jaw and twists you back into view.

"Watch it," he commands. “Look at how I’m fucking you senselessly.”

You witness the part where you and he connect, devouring his member inch by inch, feeling all the ridges and veins brushing over and over your sensitive spot, pushing you closer to the edge. Nails delving deeper into his flesh, creating new scars mixed with his old bullet wounds, you inhale a sharp breath as you unravel onto him the second time, clenching rhythmically to your descend. As the waves of pleasure crash before you, Chris slowly subsides his movement to let you adjust to your coming down, your vision returning to his face that’s filled with compassion.

Stamina quickly replenishes and before he could react, your leg hooks around his knees and pulls, he tumbles backwards, landing abruptly onto the mattress with a slight jolt. You flipped your position with ease, riding on top with his body heat still connected deep within. He seemed impressed by your skilled manoeuvre as he got handsy with your ass again, groping the rounded meat a handful of times before bringing his hand up and slapped it. The pain made you welp and clenches him tighter which earned a raspy moan slipping out of his lips.

Hip rolled against his hard length– prodding further into you– earning you another erotic hiss from his pent-up breath. In this position, your insides are being stretched wider between pleasure and pain. Your hands made their way to his chest for support as you began sliding back out, and all at once, dropping all the way down. He groans, the combined movement is wearing him down as you can feel his dick pulsing rapidly to indicate that he is on the verge. Your arm reaches backwards, a finger trailing up along his inner thigh, teasing the shape of his bulge and drawing circles around it. To his surprise, you grasp the base of his shaft, restricting his means of climax. Chris fists the sheets and growls in disapproval.

"Not so fast." you giggled.

Twisting and fighting as his loaded passion is met by the pain you've conflicted on him, which brushed your ego to see him act like this. Your little captain, patriotic and stone-faced on the battlefield, now falls weak under you– pleading for a sweet release. You comply, quickening up your pace, rolling your hips in between the intervals of riding, you positioned yourself at an angle, letting the head stroke your delicate spot harder. The repetitive motion numbs your mind, waves of bliss building up again in your abdomen as the slapping sound resonate louder around the room.

Blood rushing up to your head, with the white noise filling up your ears and thoughts once more, your body spasmed as you came, eyes seeing stars from the immense heat. You release the grasp of his dick as he cries out and injects you with his thick load– thrusting intensely with each discharge. His cum fills you to the brim, spilling down your thighs still freshly warm. You scoop up a little until it covers the tip of your finger and traces it along with your tongue before swallowing– salty with a minor chewy texture.

Your legs eventually gave out, still twitching from the aftermath, you flopped on top of the now exhausted Chris. Both gasping desperately for air, you listened closely to the pounding of his heart until it subsides to a normal beat. How very strange, being alive.

You put an abrupt stop to your internal thoughts so you don't ruin a good moment, considering this might be the first and last you get to do this with him. Pushing yourself off him, you lay silently with his arm tucked under your head, you sigh, seeing him fastly sound asleep. Thumb softly caress his cheek and faintly tracing the bags under his eyes, a slight pang hits you, recalling your own mistakes that lead him to this. Your eyelids grew heavier– struggling to keep yourself awake– you kissed him once more and whispered before succumbing to the darkness.

“I’d wish we had more time.”

***

Arm in search of the body next to him, but the cold emptiness is left in his presence. Eyes shot wide open, the room still shrouded in blackness with the pale moonlight seeping in. Chris sat up, trying to put the puzzle pieces together, remembering where he is. He scans the room, looking for a hint of you, but you were nowhere to be found. He sighs, picking up his undergarment off the floor and trudging out of the bedroom. The rest of the house is dim, but the moonlight gives him comfort and company at this moment, he knew you were already gone.

Taking a closer inspection around, he never noticed the simple furniture placed around the apartment that already occupies the space when you arrived. The lack of liveliness proves that you weren't going to stay for long. Of course, Chris was one of the reasons. Recollecting his items of clothing around the house piece by piece, he spots a red note sitting on the edge of the counter. A symbolic fragment that's surrounded by the monochromatic landscape. He reads to himself and shakes his head, skimming the bottom of the note where your initials are printed on. Hesitantly, he pockets the notes as he exits the place, leaving him with the final message:

"See you around. x"

#I forgot how to write fics #this is a literal mess to me #all I can say is that I was hoping to put this out on Valentine’s Day #but I just forgot how to write :/#idk bon appetite #chris x reader #chris redfield #resident evil #re fanfic #yo it’s been too damn long and I don’t know how to write smut #re fanfiction #⭐️.doc

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nimmy22 · 3 years

Text

A Mistake: Chapter 13

Wesker heard Jill speaking through his hidden earpiece before he reached the barn. "Multiple armed hostiles spotted. Looks like a drug deal gone wrong. They are fighting amongst themselves, one shot fired but no casualties and no hostages yet. Chris, Barry, and I are getting the drop on them while they're distracted. Brad and Joseph are looking for their getaway vehicles. Over." Jill spoke quickly, her voice slightly muffled by the shouting of the other panicked party guests.

"Roger that," Wesker replied coolly through his walkie-talkie. Good, everyone was following protocol for situations like this. Looking at his watch, it was 2:35 AM. They should be done here before the sun was up, possibly each in their respective homes before then. He won't tolerate failure, especially if it means a delay in taking his present home with him. they needed to have a little chat about limits and boundaries.

Cara was too daring tonight, especially towards some boy she hardly knew. A boy who was her age, someone any girl would be proud to introduce to the parents.

Stroking the outline of his concealed gun, he had watched their dance from his place in the dark. He fought hard the impulse to kill, his nails biting into his palms like wasps. He gritted his teeth, knowing he wasn't the one to get to dance with her. That filthy boy was desecrating a temple. He'll make sure to teach her a classier way to dance, having witnessed such atrocious moves. Teenagers were unsophisticated at times.

Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't he have some affair with some umbrella bombshell? Things would've certainly been a lot simpler, with much less loss of sleep. Her face always filled his mind each and every night, haunting him endlessly.

Cara should've died many attempts ago, yet here she was, laughing and dancing with some other guy, pulling him in for a kiss. Wesker's lips curled into a cruel smile seeing the girl who often leaves him sleepless, choosing to return his efforts and protection with the worst kind of betrayal. He had been burned tonight, but now he will burn everyone.

Amongst the people barreling out the barn, Wesker spotted the boy who dared touch what didn't belong to him. He was helpless, shoved around in the stampede of a crowd with no real strength to push back. Wesker moved in his direction, purposefully driving his shoulder into the fleeing boy.

The contact lasted a second before the boy ran for his car. With a smirk, Wesker pocketed the wallet after looking over the name of the owner. James Hunter. Address: 243 charlotte road. In due time, the boy will reap what he sowed.

He spotted Joseph and Brad bugging a van among the parked cars outside, giving them a nod. As he stepped into the barn, he spotted Jill taking out her taser. There were two men on the ground, tackled by Chris and Barry and in the process of being cuffed.

A third man was on his knees, his body jerking as Jill delivered a shot of electricity through a taser. "You brought the fucking cops here? I knew you were an informant!" he shouted at the cuffed men between violent spasms. He was no older than twenty with a black duffel back hugged close to his body. He kept trying to reach for the gun he must've dropped, but Jill zapped him again. He was persistent and continued to reach for his weapon, spittle flying out of his mouth as his body spasmed.

Kicking the gun out of his reach, Wesker delivered a sharp kick to the man's stomach, watching him fold over. Planting a knee into his back, he twisted his arm, earning a pained groan. The movement was automatic as he began the arrest process, stating his rights in a monotonous voice. Jill moved to retrieve the black duffel bag, unzipping it to reveal the wrapped bundles of white powder. No doubt cocaine.

"That's a hefty block of sugar," Jill joked, juggling three bundles with surprising skill. But Wesker still lost interest after two seconds.

Everything was going smoothly until a fourth man stepped into the barn. In his grip was a hostage dragged by her hair.

Seeing who was being dragged had Chris lose his calm and run towards the man, aiming his gun. "Let her go, you fucker!" Chris roared, breathing erratically with teeth curled over his teeth. Every fiber in his been stood tense and ready.

"Throw away your guns first," the man warned, digging the muzzle of his gun against the struggling girl's head, ending her resistance.

"Stand down, Chris," Wesker ordered and sighed when Chris didn't comply. Instead, he offered more death threats.

"Chris, you know how we handle hostage situations! Do you want me to write you up for insubordination?" Wesker hissed, growing impatient with the show of open defiance. A dead hostage will create a headache with the Chief in toe.

"He's got his hands on my fucking sister!" Chris's hands gripped the gun tightly, shaking his head furiously.

"I am well aware," Wesker regarded the tearful girl, held so tightly by the neck her toes barely touched the ground. With every threat and step Chris took towards them, the man held Claire even tighter, using her as a human shield.

Wesker walked up to Chris before taking hold of the gun. After staring down his Captain for what felt like an eternity, Chris begrudgingly let go of the gun. Wesker threw it at the hostage-taker's feet along with his own. Jill followed suit.

"State your demands," Wesker addressed the hostage-taker coolly. His interest was more on maintaining the reputation of STARS than on saving the female version of Chris. Any headache was a good one to avoid.

"First, take off the fucking sunglasses hotshot. Second, give me that bag." The man demanded, pointing his chin to the bag next to Jill.

With a raised eyebrow and a bemused smile, Wesker took off his shades before pocketed them. His icy blues pierced the man, watching him take a sharp breath, a slight tremble to his hands.

"You need to let her go first, and then the drugs are all yours. No one will go after you. Our priority is the safety of all civilians and law enforcement officers. Let's all get home safely." Wesker stared directly into the hostage-taker's eyes, his posture relaxed, speaking as if conversing with a friend.

"Do you think I'm stupid? I ain't falling for that shit again. Bag first."

As Wesker turned around to go grab the bag, he whispered into his walkie-talkie. " Joseph and Brad, be ready for an armed hostile at the south exit. Over." with an affirmative answer from both officers through his earpiece, he picked up the bag. He proceeded to walk closer to the hostage-taker, his free hand up in the air.

"Stop, don't come any closer. just throw it over."

"As you wish," complying, Wesker threw the bag, watching as it slid across the floor to stop near the man.

The man kept eyeing the exit furthest from them before bending to pick up the duffel with jerky movements. Sweat pooled on his forehead as he pondered his next move. Slowly he inched backward, his eyes not leaving the three officers. He should've known how rotten the deal would go. His hands were so clammy the gun kept slipping. He swallowed as a pillar of hay blocked them from view, and he was quickening his steps to the exit.

"Move it!" he hissed, dragging Claire to her feet as she stumbled.

"Let me go, you fucker!" Claire wailed, fighting against him.

"Shut up, you little bitch. You're my ticket out of here. Stop struggling, and don't think I won't blow your brains out."

As they made it just outside the door, another gang member appeared. "Casper, that you man?" he called out and suffered a kick to the chin.

"No names, you little shit!" the hostage-taker hissed, spittle flying into his partner's face.

"Sorry man-"

"Any more of our people left?"

"Well, there was them, but they're caught up with the cops over there," he pointed to an area where two gang members wrestled with Brad and Joseph.

"Let's go, start the van. We're getting the fuck out of here. I have the drugs. We'll sell em' in another town." they ran to the van, dragging Claire with them. Opening the back of the van, they were about to shove her inside until a voice shouted.

"Wait! Please don't take her!" Cara cried, stepping out from behind a car right next to their van. She had been watching them drag her best friend out of the barn.

"Cara, no! what the hell are you doing?" Claire hissed, forming wild motions with her hand for her friend to get the hell away. This was the stupidest thing she had ever seen.

Without an ounce of thought, she shouted. "Take me instead!"

"Your pretty dumb shit. but it's not like I want to watch two hostages while the cops come after us," the man holding Claire spat. "You go, and you get in the van now!" he shoved Claire to the ground before grabbing Cara by the collar and shoving her inside. Slamming the doors shut, he and his partner were quick to get behind the wheel, ignoring Claire as she banged on the doors.

Before Claire could chase the van, she was grabbed from behind. "Let go!" she shoved frantically, watching the van get further and further away down the dirt road through the cornfield.

"Mrs. Redfield, you're already in enough trouble as it is. don't add to the list." Wesker pulled her by the arm, confused as to why she would ever chase the car of the people who held her at gunpoint moments ago.

"You don't understand they have-" Claire grabbed the front of his jacket, looking at him pleadingly.

"Enough Claire!" Chris hissed, detaching her arms from his Captain and dragging her off to the side. Opening the door to his undercover car, he shoved Claire inside. He was about to slam the door, but she stuck her arm out.

"Chris, please, you have to listen to me. they have-"

"I'll listen once your ready to tell me why you're out in the middle of nowhere and drinking underage. what part of 'be careful' did you not understand?"

Straightening out his jacket as if nothing happened, Wesker placed his shades back in their rightful place. He watched Joseph and Barry get into a car before giving chase as Brad herded the arrestees into an undercover cruiser. It was a tight fit with three bulky men sharing the backseat. He will interrogate them tomorrow, finally shoving the leads down Iron's throat so he would shut up.

Walking over to the STARS undercover van, he looked over their communication devices and smirked as the tracker on the culprits' van signaled their exact GPS coordinates. Umbrella was generous with the tech donations to the police department, making the job all that much easier.

Picking up a radio, he connected to the team's frequency. "Hostage is secured. Jill and I will set up a blockade based on their GPS coordinates. If they push you, push harder. I don't care if you flip them over. Make sure they don't get away. Over."

He walked towards Chris and frowned; his mouth set in a grim line. "Seeing as you are currently busy, I think you should go home, Chris." With a glance at the feuding siblings, Wesker knew he couldn't use Chris tonight.

"What? You're not leaving me behind. They had their hands on my sister. How the hell am I supposed to let someone else catch them? it should be me." Chris exhaled through his teeth, glaring at his Captain.

"Are you sure you'll simply put them in cuffs? Right now, you're biased. Your emotions are not in the right place. Go home and help your sister get sobered up. you can't afford mistakes that will ruin your career or her getting charged with underage drinking."

"Is that a threat?" Chris blinked, speaking dangerously slowly, glancing between his captain and sister.

"It's a warning. Now go. you've done enough tonight."

Getting into the van with Jill, Wesker saw Chris punch a lamp post and smirked. His smile was gone as he thought about how he will have to discipline Chris all over again.

Remembering what he left behind in the junkyard, he paged one umbrella's bribed cops to go and fetch her. Cara will be furious, but she will be safe. She will get over it, having been through much worse. And then they will be home in no time at all.

With Jill in the driver seat, they drove off with Wesker looking over the communications equipment, directing Barry and Joseph after the signal. It was amusing watching the dealers rest their car, thinking they lost the cops before being chased again. They were too stupid to abandon the vehicle with a tracker on it. He thought out possible blockade locations at predicted intersections where the dealers may go.

Getting to their destination, Wesker and Jill worked quickly to set up the blockade, laying out the tire spikes. Traffic was minimal, but they still left the police siren up. Frowning, Wesker rejected another call made by Chris. To prevent further distraction for the rest of the team, he made everyone change radio frequencies. The scolded STARS member has been calling nonstop through all forms of communication. Wesker ordered the rest of the team to disregard him. Whatever silly grudge the boy had would have to wait until they handed the suspects into the RPD, where they'd be bragging trophies for the Chief.

With their guns out, Wesker and Jill used both van doors like a shield as they stood ready for the lights fast approaching at an illegal speed. A familiar vehicle flanked the white van, leaving more and more impressions against the exterior as they smashed into each other over and over. Barry was enjoying himself tonight.

"Captain! There is another hostage!" Chris shouted through the radio. He must have figured out their new frequency change.

"What? Enough of this, Chris. You are off the mission. What you're doing now is interference with official police business, and you know the consequences. last chance, Chris." Fed up, Wesker slammed the radio on the dashboard, gripping his gun tighter. As the van came closer, he fired several shots at the tires, and the van began swerving on wobbly tires.

"What's up with Chris?" Jill glanced over at her boss, seeing the overly familiar scene of Chris and Wesker clashing. She, too, fired a couple of rounds.

"He claims there is another hostage," Jill grew stiff, her eyes growing wide. She was quick to lower her gun.

"On no, I thought his sister was the only hostage. then what the hell are we doing!"

"Likely, he just wants back in on the mission and is being childish," his voice was as sharp as his next shots into the engine.

"Are you sure Captain? Chris may be thick-headed, but he wouldn't lie. especially about something like this."

Wesker opened his mouth, but no words came out. No, he wasn't sure without a doubt. Something felt off to him. Like the feeling he had in the parking lot of the Hospital. Later that same day, he ends up finding Cara almost being used for an experiment.

His pager went off, and he quickly read the message with a sinking feeling. 'Nobody at the junkyard, Captain. Just a pack of stray dogs.' What were the chances of Cara being the hostage? She was a magnet for trouble everywhere she went. So, there was a very high chance.

Wesker lowered his gun, but the damage was already done.

The van swerved before flipping over three times, sending metal debris all over the road. Before the van stopped sliding, Wesker was already sprinting as fast as he could to the wreck. Through the blood rushing through his ears, he barely heard Jill call for an ambulance.

Disregarding the injured men crying for help in the front, Wesker dug through the wreck. The back of the van was crumpled, sealing the doors, and he kicked it in frustration as they refused to budge.

As Jill ran to the STARS van to grab a saw, Barry, Joseph, and Brad watched their captain behave as they'd never seen before. They helped the hostage-takers not so gently exit the heap of metal as they all gawked at their Captain. Returning with the saw, Jill received a death stare as soon as she tried to push her captain out of the way.

Seeing how his behavior has caught the attention of everyone, Wesker begrudgingly had to detach himself from the scene and collect himself. Only he lost it all again as they dragged her body out.

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x oc #oc #fanfic #albert Wesker X original character

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siren-queen-imagines · 4 years

Text

You’re Not Alone

Hey guys! So I was inspired for this while I was watching Resident Evil: Vendetta. This takes place between Resident Evil 6 and Resident Evil: Vendetta. I hope you guys enjoy!

Also, I’m working currently on a Zach Dempsey one shot for y’all (I am deep in my feels now that it’s over)! Be on the look out for that soon!

Masterlist

(not my gif)

“Hey, hey I got you.” You assured Piers as Chris went to get the escape pod ready to go.

You held his free hand as Piers grimaced and grunted, the C-Virus wreaking havoc on his body...but he was still him. He may have had a trident-like appendage where his right arm used to be but Piers Nivans was still in control.

“When we get back, I’m gonna find a way to fix you. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N.” Piers grumbled through gritted teeth.

“I would never do that to you.” You offered him a smile, tears building up in your eyes.

Chris looked up from the table in front of him to see your eyebrows furrowed as you let out a small groan in your sleep. He put the gun he was cleaning down, waiting to see if he should go over to you and wake you up.

“This is all your fault, Y/N.” Piers told you, his eyes filled with anger. “If you had tried harder, I wouldn’t have had to die.”

“No, I-I-I---”

“Because of you, I became this! I’m a monster!”

“You’re not---”

“If you weren’t so damn helpless, I wouldn’t have had to inject myself with this POISON!”

Suddenly Piers began to get up on his own, you moved back, standing up. Wait, where was Chris?

“This is YOUR FAULT!” He continued, the fires of rage shining in his eyes.

You held your hands up in surrender as he raised his virus infected arm, the prongs of the new appendage sparking with electricity.

“Piers, wait. We can fix this!”

Piers let out an angered cry as electricity shot out.

“Piers!” You called out, jolting out of your nightmare and sitting upright.

“Hey, hey.” Chris gently spoke to get your attention as he sat on the side of the bed.

You breathed heavily as you gathered your bearings, your eyes finally falling on your boyfriend.

“You haven’t had that one in a while.” He continued, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It was true. It had been 2 and a half years since Piers had died in that underground facility. In the final moments of his life, he had saved you and Chris after the B.O.W. you all thought dead came after you. Before the explosion of the facility, the giant B.O.W. was hit with electricity, which you both knew came from Piers’ C-Virus mutation.

You held so much guilt in Piers’ death. You always felt you should have tried harder to save him or maybe if you hadn’t gotten caught in that B.O.W.’s grip, Piers would have never had to inject himself with the virus to save you. Why Piers? Shouldn’t it have been you? God, why couldn’t you breathe?

“Hey.” Chris took your hand. “Take a deep breath.” He took one with you, breathing in and out, in and out until your breathing slowed. “You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”

The psychiatrists the BSAA provided to you and Chris all said you both would struggle with survivor’s guilt, which was a symptom of PTSD, of which you both were already suffering from after everything you’ve seen and survived previously.

“He was so angry.” You whispered before sighing, squeezing Chris’ hand. “He said it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t. You and I both know Piers would never blame you.”

“I know but--”

“No, buts. He loved the hell out of you. He’d kick your ass for thinking otherwise.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

You and Chris shared a smile and small laugh at the thought of Piers. You were usually the team medic on Chris’ team but because you were trained by your Captain, you were able to hold your own in a fight. Whenever the two of you sparred, you swore he brought out the best in you. He won some, you won some.

“Did I wake you?” You asked your boyfriend.

“No. I couldn’t sleep so I figured---” Chris cut himself off, motioning to the disassembled guns he was cleaning on the table nearby.

“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep, Chris?”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that. I just worry about you. I love you and I wanna make sure you’re good, you know?”

“I know because I’m the same. And I love you too.”

Despite everything; the ups and downs, the rough aftermath of the new traumas you endure on your missions, the injuries, you wouldn’t change it. You had someone like Chris Redfield on your side, helping you through it and you him. You two hold each other up and together when it gets really tough. You help each other fight the nightmares, finding it easier to open up to the Captain because you know he’s been through or is going through the same thing.

Chris Redfield makes you feel like you’re not alone. Because you’re not.

You have him and he has you.

You gently cupped the side of Chris’ face and leaned in, kissing him gently.

“Any word on Arias yet?”

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #resident evil imagine #Chris Redfield

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sparkie96 · 3 years

Note

It’s ridiculously late where I’m at and I need to sleep, but I feel like if I sleep and not ask this I’ll forget. 😱 But I have an idea a short story if you’d be willing to write it where Leon is giving brat energy to one of the guys (Chris, Dante or Vergil your choice I’m gain for any of them) and it end with smut or almost smut. The brat energy could even be at the wrong time right place etc. This has just been on my mind for a while.

It’s kind of short but it’s Halloweeny and has Leon in a Catwoman costume! I have this headcanon that will forever be one of my go-to’s where Leon is just a dummy when it comes to comics and other nerdy things, so when it comes to Halloween, Chris mentions wanting to do a superhero costume team-up with someone. Chris mentions Captain America or something like that.

Leon, who has a massive crush on Chris and was invited to the party, is like “Catwoman is a thing...and she’s got a nice costume and she’s with one of those hero guys so...I’ll surprise him with that! Maybe that’ll grab his attention!”He’s not very bright in that department, but he’s got the spirit...a shame the costume is riding up his ass and Chris teases him about it.

Rated T-M for Language and Implied Sexy Times and Mild Nudity. _______________________________________________________ Why Leon decided this would have been a good idea, he didn’t know, but he hoped Redfield liked this...because he probably was never doing this again nor would this costume ever see the light of day after tonight. He had sent Chris ahead to the party, the older man offering to meet Leon at his apartment and drive there together, but Leon had declined the offer. He wanted to surprise the man, but he was having a bit of an issue squeezing into the skintight catsuit. Did he buy the wrong size or was it just the tight leather outfit messing with him? Should he forego the underwear and wear nothing underneath? ‘Cause his boxers felt like they were in the way...but was that really appropriate for the BSAA Halloween Party? Would anyone really care?

Leon slipped his legs out of the tight material of the pant legs in frustration, throwing the costume back down on the bed before removing his boxers. He did glance at himself in the mirror, noticing that his belly was looking a bit soft due to the drinking and constantly buying take-out. Maybe his New Year’s Resolution would be to cut all that out?

He scoffed at that and shook his head, “That’s assuming the DSO leaves me alone and the assholes knock it off with the bioterrorism…”

He really did want to get better...but each year it was getting harder and harder and he was just...so tired. He was getting older and the world didn’t seem like it was getting better any time soon. And he really couldn’t deal with another bright-faced therapist patronizing him about looking at the brighter side of things. Or going to a doctor or psychologist that would prescribe him some bullshit medication from pharmaceutical companies that probably did dealings with the same people who created the viruses.

But that was most likely his paranoia talking...and maybe he should just swallow his pride and seek help. Not everyone was untrustworthy…

“Jesus Christ, Kennedy…” Leon scolded himself, snatching the costume off of the bed, “Just shut up and put the fucking costume on so we can get drunk at a Halloween Party.”

Although that was what he told himself, that wasn’t the reason he was going. Chris was there, and Leon may or may not have liked the man as more than just a friend. He had heard from Claire and Sherry that Chris wanted to do a “Superhero Themed” Costume, dressing as Captain America or something. So, Leon got it in his own head that if he dressed up as a superhero himself, maybe a love-interest to the character Chris was dressed as, Chris would notice him and maybe admire him.

The only problem was; Leon knew jack shit about superheroes.

He didn’t read comic books or any of that, outside of the Batman or Superman Movie that came out once every five years...and had fallen asleep during that one movie with the pilot guy and the warrior princess...maybe Batman was in it? They were fighting some monster. Captain America wasn’t in it...or was he? Wasn’t it all the same? He had Googled it, but none of it made very much sense, so Leon honestly didn’t have a clue. He just went to the Halloween store, saw a costume that looked appealing and like a superhero, it had to have been because the Batman symbol was on it, and bought it.

Leon gave a breath of relief as the costume fit now that he wasn’t wearing his boxers, the catsuit sliding on with ease. He managed to zip it up to under his collar bone, deciding against zipping it up all the way. He looked over his appearance in the mirror.

He just hoped he didn’t look too ridiculous. ______________________________________________________________

The party was pretty loud and Chris was having an okay time. He wasn’t too crazy about the party itself, but he supposed it was better than being out on an assignment and worrying about BOWs. It was a helluva lot better than working on paperwork or watching monitors all night, that was for damned sure. Though, he hated constantly shaking hands with people from the DSO and TerraSave.

He especially hated the selfies and shit, people acting as though he was some damn celebrity. He also hated the girls and even some guys as they shamelessly flirted with him and swooned over him “How Handsome” or “How Fitting” he was in his costume. It made him uncomfortable and had him looking out for Jill or Claire. Hell, even Parker or Sherry would have been better company.

He wasn’t one for costumes and Halloween, but Claire had told him to stop being a brat and just pick something simple. Or something that he loved. Zombie costumes were banned, so he couldn’t just splatter paint on his uniform and call it a day, so he picked the Captain America costume instead. Captain America was one of his favorite superheroes growing up and the outfit was sort of like wearing his own uniform.

That and the big ass shield that came with it came in handy when it came to grabby people.

He sighed as he listened to one of the agents from the DSO drone on and on about Wesker and other things Chris really didn’t feel like talking about, looking around at the party goers. To his surprise, or maybe not surprise, he hadn’t seen the Golden Boy of the DSO yet. It wasn’t officially Halloween, so Leon wouldn’t have been at the Presidential Trick or Treat thing they did in DC every year. And he knew Leon was coming because the agent texted him to decline the offer to ride together, saying that he would meet him here instead.

The tapping on his shoulder made him nearly hit the person with his shield in fright, but the person blocked the hit before it could land. He saw black gloves tipped with silver claws on the edges of the shield, leading up to black sleeves and a black cowl tipped with cat ears, goggles covering the person’s eyes.

“Whoa, Big Guy!” The person chuckled, pulling up the goggles so they could sit on his head, “Easy there. Almost took my head off.”

Chris’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the sound of the person’s voice, “Leon?!”

Leon S. Kennedy stood before him in a skintight black catsuit with a whip wrapped around his shoulder, a utility belt with a silver cat head as a buckle, black knee high boots, and even had the cowl with the cat ears AND a cat choker..and was he wearing eyeliner? The suit was unzipped slightly, his collarbones exposed. The gloves had silver claws on the fingertips, which were now drumming on the plastic shield.

Leon chuckled, “The one and only. I heard you needed a partner for your superhero costume, so...here I am.”

Chris gave the agent a once over before giving a little chuckle, “So...you’re Catwoman?”

Leon frowned at that, “Yeah...do I look weird? Too much?” He looked down at himself, looking over his costume.

“No, no, it’s not that!” Chris insisted, “You look great! It’s just, uh, Catwoman isn’t Marvel.”

Leon raised a brow, “...huh? What the hell is Marvel?”

Chris chuckled, “It’s a comic book company that makes characters like Cap, Iron Man, Spider-Man, all of those. But Catwoman is actually Batman’s girl over at DC Comics.”

Leon wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows, “What’s the difference?”

Chris offered him an arm, which Leon accepted, “Well...there’s a lot of differences…”

Chris continued on, the agent he had previously been stuck talking to not even noticing that Chris had left. Leon listened to the best of his ability, not really understanding what the hell Chris was talking about, but it was Chris, so he listened regardless. He did pick at the wedgie he was getting from the ridiculously tight outfit every time it rode up his ass.

“So, Batman isn’t an Avenger?” Leon asked as they picked up punch at the punch bowl, Chris grabbing a plate of snacks while Leon held their drinks, “That’s stupid.”

“How?” Chris asked, “He’s a member of the Justice League so he doesn’t need to be an Avenger.”

“Now, what the fuck is the Justice League?” Leon asked, making Chris laugh, “What the hell is with all these teams? Why?”

“Ask the guys and gals who made them, I don’t know.” Chris laughed, trading Leon a plate of food for his drink.

“So, I wore this tight ass outfit that gives me a wedgie every five minutes for nothing?” Leon asked in mock annoyance, “Fucking nerds.”

Chris shrugged, “If it’s any consolation, you pull it off really well.”

“Thanks.” Leon said before sipping his punch, smacking his lips together and then making a face, looking down at the green liquid, “This is spiked.”

Chris tasted his own drink, swishing it around in his mouth, “...I can barely taste that. How did you?”

Leon merely raised a brow with a smile, sipping it some more as he and Chris went over to the recreational area where party furniture was set up. Leon received several compliments along the way, Leon thanking or nodding his head toward them in acknowledgement. What he didn’t appreciate was the drunk who slapped him on the ass on the way by, Leon spin-kicking him in the chest.

The man was sent flying backward, the people there moving out of the way, looking between Leon and the guy in shock. Several party-goers murmured amongst themselves or were stunned silent. Leon blushed in partial embarrassment, but kept his angered glare, muttering curses under his breath as he apologized but then went back to Chris, who looked just as shocked as everyone else.

“What?” Leon asked, “He slapped me on the ass!”

Chris shook his head and thus shook himself out of his trance, “Uh...well, he did deserve it...but that…”

“What?” Leon asked, brow raised.

“That was kind of hot.” Chris admitted.

Now it was Leon who was stunned silent, the blush of pink deepening to a shade of red, “...really?”

Chris nodded, giving a bashful smile, “I’m not gonna lie...I’m both frightened...and aroused. I want to kiss you...but I don’t want you to…!”

Chris was cut-off by Leon tossing his snacks and drink before moving forward into Chris’s space, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and kissing him. Chris’s eyes widened in surprise, giving a momentary muffled protest, but then relaxed. He dropped his own snacks and drinks in favor of wrapping his arms around Leon’s waist, pulling him into a tight embrace as he reciprocated the kiss.

They stayed like that for a moment before parting for air, Leon wearing a grin, “What about now?”

Chris blinked as he breathed a deep breath, blushing himself, “...definitely aroused. Wanna...get out of here?”

“I thought Catwoman was Batman’s girl?”

“Fuck Batman. He can have Catwoman.” Chris chuckled, holding Leon’s hand and leading him out, “I got Catman.”

Leon laughed as he followed Chris out, “Gonna give me a treat, Big Guy?”

“Definitely ain’t giving you a trick.”

“Can you do any tricks in the bedroom?”

“It’s Trick OR Treat,” Chris chuckled as they went to his truck out in the parking lot, “Not Trick AND Treat.”

“...Can I both?” Leon asked in a teasing tone.

“Keep it up and you’re gonna get a spanking.”

“That’s an extra treat.” ______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Leon woke up with a sore ass and wearing only bits and pieces of his costume, still wearing the cat cowl and claw tipped gloves. He felt a heavy body on top of his own, Chris resting on his chest still wearing his costume minus his boots and gloves. Big, muscular arms were wrapped around Leon’s waist, hugging him tightly even in sleep. The man’s shield was on the floor next to his whip, next to the tattered remains of Leon’s costume.

Leon looked around and groaned as the sunlight bled through the sheer curtains, but he actually didn’t feel annoyed. He was actually satisfied and felt...happy...and apparently in Chris’s apartment. Movement on top of him and the sound of Chris yawning indicated that the man was stirring from sleep, drawing Leon’s attention downward.

“Morning, Cap.” Leon greeted softly as tired brown orbs looked up at him.

Chris wore a sleepy smile, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “Morning, Cat. Last night was…”

“...last night was fun.” Leon chuckled in agreement, “Best tricks and treats I’ve ever gotten.”

Chris nodded and chuckled in agreement as well as he carefully climbed off of Leon. He looked down at the floor, apologizing for ripping Leon’s costume. Leon shrugged as he sat up, stretching his aching limbs with a yawn of his own. He smiled, saying that the costume was probably gonna rip at some point during the party if they had stayed. Better Chris’s bedroom than in front of everyone at the BSAA.

“But you can make up for it by making me breakfast.” Leon teased with a wink.

Chris smiled and nodded once more, stripping out of his costume and into some lounge clothes, “Only if you’ll stay.”

“Deal.”

#Halloween Fic #Chreon #Costume Kink #Costume Party #Leon Kennedy #Chris Redfield #Motivational Monday #WIP Day

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bre-meister · 4 years

Text

Grandpa Barry

a not so short fluffy one-shot based off of an old offhanded comment by @onehelluvafirstdate that kinda just stuck with me

Holidays for the Butron’s had become more than just family affairs. For several years prior to the events at the Spencer Mansion, the Redfield siblings had begun to join them for these types of events after their parent’s deaths. However, after the mansion incident, the large scale outbreak that was Racoon City, and the countless other BOW incidents that had occurred since family holidays had extended well past just the family.

Thanksgivings and Christmases and Fourth of July’s had become celebrations of more than just that particular holiday. They were a celebration of another year lived, another attack survived, and sometimes, celebrations of another survivor added to their small but growing group of what they considered to be extended family.

This particular Thanksgiving was no different and so, the Burtons found themselves preparing to host their extended family for dinner, drinks, and overall good times. Not everyone was always able to attend - their common line of work never really took holidays into consideration - but this year they’re gearing up for an unusually good turnout.

Chris arrives first, as always. Early in order to help set up. The man can’t cook for shit so he brings drinks - both alcoholic and non-alcoholic - for his contribution to the large meal. Rebecca is next along with Sherry and Jake. Quite frankly, Barry was surprised they’ ed convinced the kid to come but, at the same time, the older man was fairly sure Jake would do anything for Sherry if she just asked. The three had brought different desserts that were most probably store-bought. Barry could already see Rebecca’s hand slowly drifting up to the pair of dog tags that hung around her neck - it would become more evident as the night wore on.

Next are Jill and Carlos, the latter of which has just been a recent addition to these types of celebrations despite having known Jill since Racoon. They arrive with a dish that smells heavenly and was most definitely prepared by Carlos. Jill, like Chris, was poorly adept in the kitchen.

Last to arrive was Leon and Claire along with their ever-growing brood. Isabelle seemed to be barley restraining herself, a ball of excitement ready to burst at the seams.

“Hi, Grandpa Barry!”

Barry smiled at the little girl. She had been calling him ‘Grandpa” for as long as he could remember and, seeing as the kid had no real grandparents in her life, he and his wife had taken on the pseudo roll eagerly.

“Hey kid,” Barry ruffled her hair, “how’s it going?”

“Great!” she giggled. Pleasantries out of the way, Isabelle moved on to her main prerogative,

“Are Sherry and Jake here yet?”

For some reason, Izzy had taken quite the shining to her older sister’s new boy toy. Jake, for his part, seemed to have begrudgingly accepted his newfound role as ‘big brother’ to the Kennedy kid. Barry supposed that Izzy had never really given him a choice.

“They are. In fact, you guys are the last to get here.”

Isabelle pouted before turning to her mother who had been hanging up their coats by the door.

“I told you, Mamma, we’re always late.”

“We’re not late Izzy. Dinner isn’t anywhere near ready yet so you have plenty of time to play with Sherry and Jake.”

Izzy harrumphed before running off to the living room where she assumed everyone else would be. Claire sighed before turning to their host.

“Hey, Barry.” She smiled and accepted the hug that Barry was offering her. She registered Leon scolding Izzy for not taking her shoes off before running further into the house.

“Leon.” Barry moved on to the younger man, waving at little Olivia who was snuggled up in her Daddy’s arms.

“Barry.”

This was usually how things were. The two would act aloof until Claire has moved out of earshot and Barry could well and truly find out how Leon was doing.

“Kathy is in the kitchen, said to send you in once you got here.”

“Oh, of course.” Claire looked between the two men and pretended not to know what was going on. She pecked Leon on the lips and tickled Olivia’s belly before heading towards the kitchen to help Kathy with the dinner.

“Sorry, we didn’t bring anything this year. Claire’s had her hands full with her job and the girls while I was gone and since I got back a few days ago things have been a little out of whack.” Leon chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it kid.” God, Barry thought, am I really so old that I’m calling everyone kid?

“Anyway,” Barry said, “how’s the family life treating ya?”

Leon knew Barry wasn’t really asking about the ‘family life’. But it was just easier sometimes to talk in innuendos and code words what with little ears around. In this case, the family life really meant the sober life. The special agent looked down at a specific pair of little ears before answering. Liv was currently clinging to Leon like her life depended on it. Both girls were always a little clingy when he returned from long missions but Liv tended to take the term ‘Daddy’s girl’ to a new level.

The three-year-old had only let go of the man long enough for both of them to take their coats off. What Barry noticed though, was that Leon seemed to be holding on to Olivia just as desperately.

“Family life is... It’s ah, a little hard sometimes. But I’d never go back.”

Barry smiled but nodded. Motioning for Leon to follow, he made his way into the living room to join everyone else.

“Hi, Livy!” Moira said, waving enthusiastically at the little girl.

“Hi,” Liv said in a small, quiet voice

“Come play with us!” Natalia called from where she and Moira were stationed in front of a dollhouse.

Barry’s adopted daughter loved playing with Olivia whenever she got the chance. She once told him that it was because she had fun playing with ‘babies’ which, Barry thought was a little funny considering that, at only eleven, Barry still very much saw Natalia as barely more than a baby himself. He supposed he should work on that, the girls as growing up every day - thriving, even, in a stable environment with what is probably the closest to a normal life she’d ever had.

Olivia shook her head at Natalia’s invitation to play. Instead, she buried her head even further in her father’s shoulder.

“Common Liv, we have a special doll just for you.” This time it was Moira trying to do the convincing, even going as far as to use a sing-song voice.

All she garnered was another head shake.

“I’m sure your sister is having a lot of fun with Sherry and Jake,” Barry motioned to where the three were making various buildings and figures out of Leggos, “I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

“Jake could use some help over here Liv, I think you should come show him how its done.” Sherry chimed in.

“What? No I -” Jake’s cry of indignation was cut off by Sherry’s elbow to his side. “ I’m real lost here, Oliva. Sherry’s right.”

“ I stay with Daddy.”

A round of soft laughter went through the room at that. Barry shared a knowing look with his wife before holding his arms out to the little girl who looked at him skeptically,

“Common sweetie. I’m sure you’ve been attached your Daddy since he’s been back. Why don’t you spend some time with Grandpa for a bit? I feel like I haven’t seen your cute little face in ages!”

Olivia didn’t say anything. Instead, she just looked at Barry in that way kids were so good at like he was spewing a load of fresh bullshit.

“It’s fine Barry.” Leon’s response saw Olivia snuggles back into her father, content to be in his arms.

“Well, she can’t stay with you forever kid, gotta learn sometime - both of you. Why not now when you won’t be any further than a room away.”

“I’m with you Barry, I tell Leon all the time he coddles her too much,” Claire said. From her spot in the kitchen, she had a clear view of what was going on in the living room.

“Is it really coddling though? I was gone for almost two weeks.” Leon’s defense was weak sounding.

“And we both know you could be gone longer at the drop of a hat. That’s just the life we live and when she refuses to be put down and you refuse to put her down, you make my life harder when Daddy inevitably has to leave again. Barry’s still got my vote. She’s gotta learn.”

“Common, Chris, Carlos, if you guys were in my situation you’re telling me you guys wouldn’t do the same thing.”

“ Sorry bro, as much as I love to disagree with my sister, she’s kinda right.” Chris’s reply was definitely not what Leon was looking for so the blonde man turned to Carlos for his support.

“Look man, I’d be the first to admit that if I ever had kids it would be hard for me to ever deny them anything.” Leon lit up at that and everyone else pretended to ignore the quick look Carlos shot Jill as he finished his statement.

“But,” Leon seemed to visibly deflate as Carlos continued, already knowing where this was going - not in his favor “ that doesn’t mean they aren’t right.”

“Thank you!” Claire interjected.

“Well, I think it’s cute.” Rebecca proudly stated.

At that Caire stepped fully out of the kitchen and pointed a pair of tongs at Rebecca who had been nursing a glass of something strong by the fireplace.

“You say that now. Wait until you find someone and have a few kids of your own. As cute as it is, your tune will change real quick.”

Rebecca let out a little laugh as Claire returned to the kitchen but it sounded a little forced, hand drifting back up to the dog tags around her neck.

“Hand her over, Leon. She’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, Leon did as he was told. Olivia did not go quietly, the beginnings of a tantrum becoming evident as she was handed off to her ‘grandpa’.

“Oh stop acting up baby girl, you’re just fine!” Claire’s voice carried sweet but stern from the kitchen.

Olivia quieted at her mother’s words but still hadn’t silenced her whimpers. Leon looked about ready to cave.

“I have three kids Leon and more years of experience. Trust me, I’ve got this. Now, Livy and I are gonna go read a nice story and I’m sure Kathy and Claire could use some help.” Barry said with a smile.

“ Leon, could be a dear and go bring the cooler in from the garage?”

“Of course Kathy.”

“Oh, you might need some help. It’s not exactly small and Barry already put the ice and some drinks in.”

“I got you.” Carlos squeezed Leon’s shoulder as he passed, effectively turning the man away from Olivia and punching him in the direction of the garage.

“Thanks, boys!” Kathy called after them.

Olivia got a little angsty once Leon was out of her sights but soon Barry had her thoughts away from her missing Daddy and onto The Cat in the Hat. They got through three more books - Olivia entranced by the pictures in on each page - before eventually going off to color with Polly who had brought out some of her colored pencils, crayons, and old coloring books.

Olivia even convinced her Uncle Chris to come color with her ( and he’d never admit it to Leon but, when those large blue eyes were turned on him Chris knew he wouldn’t be able to say no).

When Claire and Kathy called that dinner was ready to be served Leon took that as his cue that ‘separation’ time was over. He collected Izzy first, watching to make sure to washed-up properly before helping her to make a plate.

“ Do you want ham or turkey, Princess?”

“ Ham, please. Daddy, I don’t want green beans.” Isabelle made a face as Leon scooped some onto the plate, ignoring her protest.

“ I know, but remember what we talked about?”

Isabelle sighed, “No green beans, no desert.” The girl had a sweet tooth that could rival her mother’s and her parents tended to use that to their advantage.

Leon chuckled, bringing the plate over to the smaller table just to the side of the main one in the dining room. Their found family was getting too big for everyone to sit at the dining table, so they had resorted to setting up a table for the youngest of the group to sit.

Izzy seemed to accept her fate as she sat Jake at the table, giggling as he too joked about being forced to eat his vegetables in return for dessert. Sherry always volunteered to sit with the kiddos along with Moira and Polly and wherever Sherry went, Jake went. Leon shot the kid a look, it seemed that two of his girls had taken quite a shining to him and it was safe to say that he wasn’t too pleased with it. Rationally, he knew that Sherry was old enough to make her own decisions and Izzy most likely just had a silly schoolgirl crush that would go away with time. But Leon didn’t want to think rationally right now.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as he heard Claire playfully inspecting Olivia’s hands.

“Did you get ‘em all clean, baby?”

“Uh-huh. Uncle Chris help me!”

“Did he sing you your song?” Claire asked teasingly. Olivia just giggled while nodding her head yes.

“He did, did he?” Claire sent a shit-eating grin to her brother who quickly excused himself to the table.

“You do it better, Mommy.” Claire laughed before kissing her little girl’s bleach blonde hair. Leon was convinced it would darken over time, just like his had.

“Come here little bug, let’s get you something to eat.”

Leon helped Liv just as he had with Izzy. Once she’d had all she wanted on her plate, as well as some vegetables she didn’t, he made to set her up next to her sister at the other table.

“Daddy, no!”

Leon was prepared for this, it happened every time. Liv wouldn’t want to sit with the other kids, no, she always much rather stay with her Daddy. So, safe to say he was more than taken aback by Livy’s next words.

“ I sit with Grandpa.”

It was as if the whole room went silent at Olivia’s request, even Izzy stopped her laughing and was looking at her little sister with a shocked expression.

“ I - um… you’d have to ask Grandpa.”

Olivia wasted no time running over to Barry where he sat at the head of the table.

“Grandpa, I sit with you?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

Barry lifted the little girl onto her lap. She settled in with a little giggle and Leon felt his heart both swell and break at the sound. This was what they were trying to achieve the whole night, right? He voiced such out loud when Claire came over to ask if he was ok.

“Ya but, it doesn’t mean it would hurt any less. That was a hard reject, Kennedy.” Jill said.

“Jill.” Carlos gently admonished.

“What? Are we all just supposed to sit here and pretend like that didn’t just happen? I mean, no offense to you Leon but that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all night.” Jill laughed again.

“You know Jill, I never took you as one to languish in someone else’s pain. Hats off to you.”

Jill raised her wine glass to Jake in acknowledgment of his comment. Claire took Liv’s plate out of Leon’s hand and placed it in front of the little girl. She then began to make up another one with all of Leon’s favorites.

Putting down the plate in front of an empty chair she motioned for Leon to come and sit.

“Why don’t you come eat something, honey.”

Leon could tell that even Claire felt a little bad for him - she only calls him ‘honey’ when she does. She even kissed his cheek as he pulled a chair out for her before sitting down like she’d suggested.

“It’s fine,” he lied, “I don’t get why you guys are making such a big deal out of this.”

“If he’s acting this way now imagine how he’ll act once they start dating.” Rebecca whisper yelled to Chris who was seated next to her.

Chris almost choked on his drink, laughing at the image of Leon’s suffering.

“Hey, he hasn’t said anything about Jake yet!” Sherry’s attempt at defending Leon was not appreciated by Jake who shot her a scathing look.

“Only because I haven’t had the chance yet. It’s coming, Shelly.” Leon turned to look at the two adults in question as he said it.

Sherry blushed - whether, from the use of his old nickname for her or from the thinly veiled threat, he wasn’t exactly sure. Jake let out a withered sigh before turning back to his food. Eventually, everyone else took pity on Leon’s poor soul and did the same. That, or they just got tired of making fun of him - with people like these for family one never could be too sure.

Dinner continued with much merriment; teasing abounded but not all at the expense of Leon. Once the word was out that Rebeca had been curbing advances from several men she had met at her new job the table was divided - some teasing and encouraging her to go for it, others defending that she didn’t have to. By the end of it, the dog tags had ended back up in her hands. Rebecca then flipped it on the perpetually single Chris who, in turn, threw Jill and Carlos under the bus. The friendly banter then shifted to their undefined relationship status. All the while laughter continuously flowed from the table along with the occasional interjection from Moira, Polly, or Sherry. Jake mainly sticking to entertaining the kids.

By the end of the night, Leon found himself with an arm around Claire’s shoulders and Livy sitting in his lap - two out of three of his girls snuggled up against his chest, still seated at the table. Olivia had migrated back to her Daddy when she had started to get tired and Leon would be lying if he said it hadn’t made him feel miles better. Number three wasn’t far behind.

“Daddy, are we going home soon?”

Leon could see the tiredness almost radiating off of his daughter. Izzy had run off her sugar high from dessert and looked like she was ready to drop right there in front of him.

“Soon, Princess.” he shifted Livy in his lap to make room for Izzy.

It always took a little finagling to fit both Isabelle and Olivia on his lap but, somehow, they always seemed to make a way. Izzy climbed up and Leon felt content - belly full of good food, surrounded by family and good conversation, and most importantly, his little family wrapped safely in his arms.

They stayed like that for a while. Eventually, Chris, Carlos, and Jill began to clear the table. They made their way to the kitchen with the intent to clean up and give Kathy a break since she and Claire were the main ones who set everything up.

Leon could hear his wife sigh,

“It’s late. We should get the girls home.” except she made no move to do that, instead she buried her face in his neck and took in a deep breath letting out an even deeper sigh.

Eventually, Izzy began softly snoring. Leon and Claire knew they couldn’t put off heading home any longer - the drive wasn’t long but it wasn’t exactly short either and the girls should be sleeping in their own beds where it was more comfortable.

Between the two of them, they were able to get the girls into their shoes and jackets and then into their car seats with minimal trouble. They said their goodbyes outside by the car. Promises to do it again for Christmas were made but they were all taken with a grain of salt. One never knew when Leon would be called away on a mission or when Claire would be needed for some Terrasave function or clean-up job.

“I hope you enjoy being ‘grandpa’ to those cute little girls ‘cause you sure aren’t getting any grandkids from me anytime soon.”

“Good.”

Barry turned away from watching Claire and Leon drive away to look down at his oldest daughter. She looked back up at him. All was silent for a moment until the two broke out into easy laughter. He guided her back into the house, closing the door and effectively blocking the cold out.

As Barry held his own daughter close he looked around at everyone left. Natalia sleeping on the couch, Sherry and Jake whispering in a not-so secluded corner. Rebecca had joined the cleanup crew in the kitchen after having seen off the Kennedy clan. His eyes met his wife’s who was still seated at the table enjoying a slice of pie with Polly.

Barry knew that in the world they lived in, one couldn’t be certain of many things. But, he also knew that he could be certain of this - family wasn’t just defined by blood. Barry didn’t know what the future held, no one did. What they did know, however, was that their family was always changing - in size and look. But, they would always be there, especially on holidays like this, to remind one another that they were alive, that they had all made it through another year. They would be there to remind each other that there was still love and kindness in this dark world worth fighting for, and they did it in what seemed like the easiest, most simple way - by loving each other.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #cleon babies #resident evil #brief appearance of Valenveira #My writing #i had to write some fluff so I could write the angst later #Thanks to everyone in the discord for the great headcannons

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thedailyimagines · 4 years

Text

Imagine being set up on a blind date with Claire Redfield.

Anon requested: “Claire Redfield x Male Reader. Reader is the brother of Jill Valentine is introduced to Claire while they are set up on a blind date by Jill and Claire brother Chris.”

Sorry this one took so long, enjoy reading!

~~~~~~~~

“Y/n—scale of one to ten, how likely are you to go on a date within the next week?” Jill Valentine asked as she plopped down on the couch beside her brother. The two Valentine siblings were staying in a relatively safe location for the time being, though y/n was sure something would go wrong at any second.

“Negative ten.” Y/n didn’t even look up from the knife he was sharpening. Jill rolled her eyes.

“Come on, be serious.” Y/n sighed and stopped sharpening his knife, looking over at his sister.

“Fine. Negative ten thousand.” His answer earned him a punch to the shoulder.

“Y/n!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the world is a shit show. It’s not like I can walk up to someone and ask them out because they’ll probably try to shoot me or rip my throat out.”

“Y/n...” Jill’s tone had a slight warning to it.

“Jill...” He replied in the same tone.

“Look, just cause the world sucks now doesn’t mean you can’t have normal things. Besides, it’d do you some good to try and meet someone new.” Jill gave y/n her best smile (which has little effect on swaying y/n’s choice).

“...If it means you’ll lay off the ‘forever alone’ jokes, fine. I’ll try later.” Jill beamed and got up from the couch.

“Great! Go get cleaned up, your date is probably waiting for you.” Y/n nodded and went back to his knife, then exactly what Jill said registered in his mind.

“Wait, what?” But Jill was already walking away, laughing as she did so. “Jill!”

<—>

Meanwhile on the other side of the compound, another set of siblings were having a similar conversation.

“Chris, no.” Claire didn’t even look up from the book she was reading. Something about success and the path getting there. Boring in Chris’ opinion.

“Come on Claire, it might be fun!” Claire just turned the page in her book and shook her head.

“Nuh uh. ‘Fun’ is reading a book, or playing a game, or punching an asshole in the face. Dates with strangers aren’t fun.” Chris huffed and crossed his arms.

“You’ve never even been on one!” Claire rolled her eyes and shut her book, standing and walking towards her bedroom in the shared apartment.

“Case and point. I prefer not talking to strangers and dating people I know.”

“Come on Claire! Just once while we’re here! For me?” Chris got down on his knees, hands clasped together as he tried his best to make puppy dog eyes.

“...ugh, fine! But if I have a terrible time you owe me one!” Chris jumped up and pumped his fist in the air in victory.

“Deal. Now go get ready, your date probably is headed over to meet you now.” Claire’s eyes widened in surprise at the news of her sudden date, and she chased after her brother.

“Chris!”

<—>

Y/n wasn’t quite sure what one should wear to a blind date, so he choose to go with a (semi) clean pair of blue jeans and his brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt. Nothing too fancy, but he didn’t look homeless or like he’d spent several weeks crawling through garbage.

The small restaurant (really just a makeshift dining area under a very large tent) smelled good, and there was the sound of talking and laughter from the inhabitants.

“Excuse me? Are you y/n?” Y/n looked up to find a woman in a red vest staring at him.

“Uh, yeah. Y/n Valentine. I’m guessing you’re Claire?” The woman, Claire, nodded and held out her hand.

“Claire Redfield, nice to meet you.” Y/n shook her hand, and they went inside the tent. After grabbing a bowl of food each, they found a card table that was unoccupied and sat down.

“So...how’d you end up in a place like this?” Claire shrugged and poked at the food (more like mush) in her bowl.

“My brother found it, so we decided to settle down and take a break while we could. You?” Swallowing the tasteless spoonful mush, y/n waved his hand idly in the air.

“Me and my sister were just passing through, but she wanted to stay a little longer. Been here ever since.” Claire nodded in understanding and set down her spoon. Out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw a familiar face peeking into the tent.

“It’s got it’s perks though. Food, shelter, a place to sleep. Walls aren’t that sturdy though.” Y/n chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Sometimes I swear they’re going to fall over and let the dead in. Hopefully I’m not around when that happens.”

“I’ll drink to that.” The two continued to chat as they ate, sharing stories from before the world turned on its head. The evening would have ended pleasantly enough, until—

BOOM

A deafening crash sounded from outside the tent. Y/n and Claire shot up from their seats. Everything was silent. Y/n broke the silence.

“What the fuck?” Then the screams came from outside, joined by low moans and hissing.

“They’re inside! The zombies are inside the walls!”

“Run for it!” Everyone went into a panic. Claire and y/n moved out of the way of the stampeding citizens, trying to avoid being trampled. Y/n grabbed the knife he had left strapped to his leg in case of emergencies, and Claire pulled her gun out of its holster.

“Wanna kill some zombies?” Claire flipped off the safety on her gun and headed out of the tent.

“Gladly.” The compound’s guard/militia was already closing up the breach in the wall, but a good chunk of zombies had already gotten through. Y/n hacked through them and Claire shot any that were coming too close.

Others who had weapons joined the two, and soon the zombies moved no more. Y/n was breathing heavily and Claire was tense and ready to shoot again.

“That was interesting. Nice knife skills.” Y/n nodded and gestured to Claire’s gun.

“Nice shooting.” Claire holstered the gun and looked around. There wasn’t much else she’d be able to help here with.

“I should go check on my brother, he’s probably worried.” Y/n nodded and sheathed his knife.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister was already halfway here. It was nice to meet you., I’m sorry that we were interrupted.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. I’ll see you around.” Claire turned and started to walk off, until y/n called out to her.

“Wait!” She turned back around, curiosity written on her face.

“Yes?” Y/n rubbed the back of his neck and gave Claire a sheepish look.

“If you want—do you wanna grab a drink sometime? There’s a bar here that sells halfway decent drinks.” Claire looked surprised, then a grin broke out across her face.

“Sounds like fun. It’s a date.”

<—>

“So yeah. We hit it off pretty well. Aside from the giant interruption. We were thinking of meeting up later for a drink.” Jill dipped at her drink and smiled at y/n.

“That’s nice. I guess you’ll be thanking me for setting you up?” Y/n shook his head.

“Hah! Nope.”

“Y/n!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t spy on me!”

<—>

“Look at you! Being a big girl and trying out new things!” Claire punched her brother’s shoulder and continued trying to get the zombie bits scrubbed out of her vest.

“Fuck you. It was a barely a first date and more like a fight to survive.” Chris just laughed and elbowed Claire playfully.

“But you got a second date~” Claire just rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. And I could see you hiding by the tent entrance.” Chris’ eyes widened and he started to vehemently deny being anywhere near Claire’s date.

“What? Nooo. That totally wasn’t me. I was here, doing nothing.”

“Sure you were.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gif, all credit goes to the owner.

#thedailyimagines #imagine #male reader #valentine!reader #resident evil #resident evil imagine #re #re imagine #claire redfield #claire redfield imagine #claire redfield x reader #claire redfield x reader imagine #sister!jill valentine #jill valentine #re jill #chris redfield #re chris #re claire #zombies

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maxhellfire · 4 years

Text

Can I rewrite the plan?

//hey this is gonna be the first chapter of a new fic that will be here as well as on AO3

Wesker was quite surprised when he walked into the showers after their practice, usually everyone was gone and at their desk doing paperwork, but they were still here. He thought about just slipping back out the door a wait more, but the door was already closed, making a quiet “thump”. Though barely noticeable, they were all trained to hearing the smallest sound, he wouldn't get away with it.

He walked himself to his locker, he saw that Barry, Chris and Brad were chatting near their own lockers, he cursed himself mentally as they greeted him.

“So you do get a shower after our training huh?” Barry joked

“Of course I do” Wesker scoffed and opened his locker and grabbed a white towel. His hand was shaking, it was too noticeable, but to him it was. His mind was going on overdrive, if he showered here they would know. They would know..

He threw the towel over his shoulder and sat on the bench, maybe he could dilly dally long enough for them to leave, he sat on the bench and unlaced his shoes, usually he could just kick them off.

He continued to listen to the other men’s chit chatter he occasionally caught Chris taking glances

From the humidity he felt the piece of cloth around his chest stick more to his skin underneath.

After his boots and socks were off he stood up “you guys have some work on your desks waiting, i recommend getting to it, if you wanna leave on time” he kept his voice steady, as he walked to the showers, he hoped that they were gonna listen and leave but when he stopped at the showers, he still havent heard the door. He quickly took off his pants and his shirt. His hands fiddle with the tight binder around his chest. His hands slipped multiple times before finally clipped on four clips. He made quick work of his underwear and jumped in the shower.

He closed the curtain as quickly as he could, he heard the quiet “thump” of the door closing, a breath of relief escaped his lips before he started to rinse out his hair.

He was too focused on getting done quickly to hear the quiet footsteps making their way to him, and before he knew it the curtain was ripped to the side and the sound of a gasp leaving someone's lips.

Albert froze, he couldn’t move. He didn't even turn around, his hands still in his hair.

“Captain?..” he recognized that voice as Chris’

“Yes Chris?” The brunette could hear the strain in his captains voice.

“ i didn't mean to…i didn't know, i was just gonna pull a joke on you ….i didn't know you...were a woman…”

Albert gritted his teeth, he wasn't a woman at all. “I am not a woman now, would you be so kind and leave!”

“ i-i didn't mean it like that! Here's your towel. I promise my eyes are closed!” the young man nearly yelled. Albert turned around quickly before grabbing the towel, the man was at least true to his words. He wrapped the towel around himself and stepped out of the shower. His usual grace and confidence was completely gone.

“You're good Redfield..” he said softly. The young man opened his eyes slowly and kept his head down.

“I didn't mean to come off as rude, I just...got caught off guard. I never would've thought..”

“That was the point Chris, I was trying to keep it secret for as long as I could.” the blond responded.

“But I felt a hard on when we...were” Chris seemed to be searching for words.

“Making out? Flirting? I packed. Like I usually do.”

“Were you ever gonna tell me”

The blond bit his lip, he was gonna if the relationship went further then just steamy make-outs in his office. “Eventually…”

“Y’know i don't really care...its just shocking, like i never knew or like thought?”

Albert knew he was trying to make him feel better. He couldn't help but smile. “That means it worked.

“How is your voice like that, and how do you look like” he gestured to his body with a small laugh. “Like this?”

“I'm on testosterone, it changed my voice and body throughout my years, I think it's been about 10 years..”

“Why don't you just like...get surgery?”

Albert couldn't help but laugh. “Oh I dunno the money, no physical labor for a while after in between them, I wouldn't be working, and I don't know how long it would take to heal..I just get through the day, hopefully eventually I do get that shit done. Until then i just use a chest binder to make these stupid things disappear for a few hours.” the blond explained.

Chris nodded and smiled. “Your secret is safe, but” he pause. “May we go on an actual date for my silence ?” Chris’ boyish smile appeared.

“And if i refuse?”

“Ill be sad?” his smile disappeared.” but ill still keep quiet”

“Where and when?” Albert smiled

1998-3-23

#lgbt #chrisker #Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #trans #transwesker #romance #fanfic

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chiauve · 3 years

Text

Into Focus - 2

He’d never been one for serious partners either. Annika was the first, and even that had been more of an experiment than driven by any need for companionship.

It was all Birkin’s fault, really. Despite his claim of dedication, of his obsession, he still managed to not only catch the attention of Annette, but hold her to him. It was a strange union, held together with what people like himself and Birkin could only pretend was love, and Wesker waited for it to fall apart. But it didn’t; Annette was as lost in Umbrella and its tantalizing secrets as they were, and embraced the approximation of love she and William managed. Through work, they were joined, and joined they stayed. They even had a daughter.

Wesker did not consider himself a jealous man, nor the situation one to be jealous about, but he was certainly a curious one. How had William Birkin, of all people, managed to form a relationship and hold it? Why would he want to? Perhaps there was something indeed to look into in the manner of the so-called fairer sex.

Wesker didn’t go out and actively look for a partner, and he wasn’t looking when he met Anna. A young foreign woman, down on her luck and in need of help. He’d picked her up on the side of the road, hitchhiking of all things, and this reminder of his own youth made him stop for her. Curiosity, nothing more. She didn’t have a destination, just to get away, so he took her home. Let her stay. Didn’t ask questions on how she ended up near penniless in America. She repaid him by way of looking after him, cooking for him, cleaning, doing his laundry. Considering his work schedule he found this beneficial.

Anna was also the one who made the first move. He had made no mention of wanting her, hadn’t even considered it. Then she kissed him, and it was only then he realized she was an attractive woman, a soft face, tumbling red hair, lithe body, and bright eyes that looked at him with nothing but adoration.

And, oh, did that adoration go beyond her gaze. How she opened herself to him, touched him, loved him, practically worshiped him in whispers as he thrust into her.

It was an enjoyable time, he had to admit. He got her the needed paperwork and green card, almost expecting her to disappear soon after, but she stayed. And Anna wanted more than just a home and sex, she practically dragged him out when he had the time and they would run amok in town, drinking and laughing and then would stumble back to his jeep and fuck in the back.

She was bright in is visage then, sharp in focus and full of color, but after a time she began to dull as Wesker’s interest waned. The newness of it all faded and to him it became more of the same, her wants more intrusive, her needs a nag. She was fading out of his focus by the time she disappeared, leaving nothing but a sappy note of love and a possible child.

Good riddance. End it all before it became a drudgery. Toss the note and move on.

Yet he still had this sorry piece of paper. Still had this reminder of possible offspring.

He could have a child out there. A possible son, a possible daughter.

Why didn’t he care?

He should. Those were his genes, his legacy.

And there was the matter of Umbrella interfering with it all. Why?

“Wesker? Captain!”

He started out of his thoughts and looked up at Redfield, gazing at him in both amusement and concern.

“Sorry, but you were out of it,” Chris said, “Need a nap? If you go crash on the couch outside the break room you know none of us would say anything.”

“I’m fine,” Wesker grumbled, “What do you need?”

Chris handed him a sheaf of papers, “The report on yesterday’s drug bust.”

“Yes, good. Thank you, Chris.”

“You sure you’re okay? I had to call you three times.”

“Just thinking...”

“I could tell. Look, you’ve been working hard these past couple of weeks, why don’t you head home early? Barry’ll cover for you.”

Wesker was about to dismiss that idea, send Chris back to his desk to pretend to work, but a worn slip of paper continued to flit through his brain, a location scribbled at its end just above a hastily written I love you.

“Actually,” Wesker said, slow as the idea formed, “What I really think I need is a vacation.”

#resident evil #albert wesker #ms. muller #chris redfield #into focus #the eternal return #fanfic

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

New Life

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 7 and RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comfort

Summary: Following the hellish events that took place in Louisiana, the BSAA finds the Winterses a new home far from where the horrible memories dwell - Romania. How will the couple adjust to the sudden shift from the warm heart of Texas to the snowy mountains of Romania?

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for being my first and so far only Mithan requester! I love there two and I really wish they’ll be given the happy ending they deserve in a future game. If not, I make it my own duty to give them that happy ending they deserve! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“This is it?“ Mia looks out of the window of the BSAA issued terrain truck that’s pulled up to a stop outside a modest but absolutely beautiful house of two stories, surrounded by a rather large garden that is currently covered with a thick layer of pearly white snow that’s twinkling under the faint sunrays that manage to squeeze past the tightly knitted grey clouds inhibiting the sky.

Ethan and Mia have been bracing themselves for the shift of surroundings ever since Chris dropped by their home in Texas to inform them of the decision of the BSAA to move them to a whole new continent, a whole new environment with a completely different climate. However, no amount of bracing could’ve prepared them for this mesmerizing wonderland of a town they have now found themselves in.

Ethan, having traveled around quite a bit in his life and having lived in several states, he’s experienced snow - maybe not like this, but he’s been prepared enough. Mia, however, having lived in Texas all her life and never running into snow on her travels, she’s significantly less prepared. The Texas snow could do nothing to brace her for this winter wonderland. That is exactly why she’s been glued to the window ever since she seated herself in the backseat of the truck, observing the snow-covered streets and yards with child-like amazement.

Seeing his wife so happy made him swoon over her all over again just like the first time he realized he was in love with her. Ethan had never before met nor will he ever meet a person like her. He knows damn well he would’ve carried on after Louisiana with a huge chunk of his soul missing had Mia not carried enough positivity for the both of them even since they were escorted from that hellhole. She was the one who truly started looking forward the moment they were offered the chance to start over, unlike him who constantly went back and keeps going back to that night in his mind and his worst nightmares. It hasn’t been easy for her either: she’s spent nights battling insomnia and nightmares because of those hellish memories but she’s never let it show during the day. She held her head high and refused to let the past cripple her.

Having a role-model and pillar like her beside him, he grew past it for the most part as well.

She proves to him yet again how strong and amazing she is right in this very moment - she appreciates life like no one else can. She still sees the beauty in it, more so than before even. She looks upon the world with a newfound fondness and admiration without a single shadow to cloud it.

And if he only knew what she knows....

“Yeah, that’s it. Hope we didn’t mess up the pick.“ Chris chuckles from the driver’s seat as he puts the truck in park, unfastening his seatbelt.

“Are you kidding me?“ Mia is quick to unfasten her own, “It’s perfect!” Within a second, she’s out of the car much to the surprise of her husband and Chris who quickly calls out to her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you! You’re significantly underdressed for this weather.” Seeing as how his warning falls upon deaf ears, he turns to Ethan instead, his facial expression growing more serious now, “I never got around to asking but...how have you been holding up?” He looks back through the backseat windows to see Mia already grabbing handfuls of snow, clearly unbothered by the negatives in temperature. “Mia seems to be holding up well.“

Ethan follows his friend’s gaze and smiles at the sight of his grinning from ear to ear over something as simple as a knee high layer of snow that she’s now standing in. “She was holding up for the both of us for the first month after we were back. But I’m ok now too, thanks to her.”

“I’m glad.” Chris replies, nodding firmly before he takes hold of the car’s door handle, pushing it open and stepping outside into the cold he warned Mia about. Though he’s significantly better braced clothing wise, he still shudders when the breeze hits him.

Ethan does the same, stepping out and finding himself knee-deep in snow right away. And if that weren’t enough, he gets a snowball to the shoulder out of the blue right as he shuts the car door. He doesn’t even need to look up to see who threw it, the delighted laughter gives away the culprit right away, stealing an amused smile from Ethan. A smile that turns into a laugh when he sees another snowball shoot through the air, this time not heading for him but for Chris instead.

As a trained BSAA soldier, one couldn’t expect anything less of him than catching that ball mid-air which is exactly what he did mere seconds before throwing it at Ethan, hitting him directly between his shoulder blades.

“Seems to me you two will like it here quite nicely.“ The soldier comments as Ethan shivers and gives him a glare over the front bumper of the truck.

“We sure will!“ Mia answers, approaching the vehicle and coming to stand next to her husband, now lacking snowy ammunition. “Thank you again, Chris. You’ve helped us through so much, we’ll forever be in your debt.“

Ethan nods firmly, supporting her statement, figuring there’s nothing left for him to say, sensing the inevitable departure of his friend and partner approaching. He’d try and stop him, invite him inside ever if he didn’t know him better than that. If he didn’t know his job any better.

“How about not complaining whenever I drop by unannounced for dinner? You can repay me that way.“ He offers with a friendly smile which is more than most people ever get out of him.

The couple smiles at him. “Sure thing.” Ethan replies, “Anytime.”

He’s always been bad at departures and goodbyes. He’s always been afraid of that being the final goodbye or final departure. The last time he sees the person or people he’s leaving behind. It scares the hell out of him, to say the least.

“Need to get back to HQ before someone messes something up.“ He trails off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “But I’ll hold you two to your word.“

“See you soon, Redfield.“

With that, the terrain truck continues down the road, taking the first left turn before disappearing in the light fog that has fallen upon the streets suggesting that even lower temperatures are approaching.

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze, shall we?“ Mia’s voice breaks Ethan free from the clutches of the sudden melancholy that has taken over him accompanied by an unwelcome rush of memories from Louisiana and all those years he thought Mia was dead. Feeling her surprisingly warm hands on his arm, he feels himself slowly pulled away from those dark times and being returned to the present where they are safe and together. Where they’re free from any mold or virus. Where they only to worry about not catching a cold.

“Luck me, I have a wife unfazed by hypothermia.“ He wraps his arm around her as they walk down the path in front of the house the BSAA staff had cleared when moving their stuff inside.

Finding the key to the front door on the windowsill, they both feel the sudden shift inside them as though this is the real deal. The snowy mountains and foreign sights weren’t the real change. This is it. Opening this door and walking into this new and unfamiliar house that’s now theirs - that’s their new start. A start of maybe something more than they had ever imagined before - a family, perhaps.

The click of the front door being locked by Ethan once they’re inside grounds them both to the new reality that will be their life from now on. They don’t rush to take it all in, instead let it all sink in gradually, bit by bit. First the sight of the unfamiliar layout they will have to grow used to; then the smell of new furniture and freshly applied wallpaper; and lastly the atmosphere - so new and unfamiliar yet so welcoming.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?“ Mia whispers, finally putting an end to the silence they let fall upon them, “This is ours now. And it’s so...clean. Nothing in it reminds of out old lives.“

“Yeah...“ he mutters, subconsciously pulling his wife closer by his side, ��It’s solely ours, we don’t have to share it with any unwanted memories.“

She turns in his embrace, placing her hands on his chest as their eyes meet, “True. We can now make new ones. Good ones, uninterrupted by all that old junk. What do you say?”

Nothing much to say, really. He doesn’t have to say anything for her to read his mind - read him. That’s exactly why, instead of answering verbally, he plants his lips on top of hers, making the first good memory in this new house, this new and improved life of theirs.

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