death island!chris redfield x reader
cw one mention of cum if that's a warning ? I don't know
an you can imagine any chis really, but its stated in one sentence he's kinda old #likefinewine
chris has said one of the saving grace’s in his life is the fact that he doesn’t have a photographic memory. the faint trailings of evidence that stick to his mind of the worst moments in his life are enough, but as he stands in the doorway to the bathroom, boxers hastily pulled up with a wet cloth in one fist, he’s cursing it.
you’re still where he left you; hair tussled at the back from round one, heart slamming against the cage of your chest from round two, and cum still oozing out from round three. your eyes have flickered close, but from your barely-there fucked out smile, he can tell you’re not sleeping.
still, he patters over as quiet as he can manage. one knee drips into the side of the bed as your eye cracks open.
“hi sweetheart,” he murmurs as one big paw pulls your leg to the side, mopping up the evidence of your night together. you had felt his month-long absence–somewhere in america tracking down another world-ending bioweapon, you’re sure–more than usual. your husband wasn’t getting any younger and each deployment away became an incessant reminder of that. still, you took every moment that you could with him.
chris goes to stand up, but your hand shoots out to his free hand, gripping it tight within your own.
“stay, chris.”
“ill be two seconds–”
“please,” you meet his eyes, silent pleading you know he won’t be able to resist. he glances away with a chuckle before twisting around, throwing the cloth somewhere toward the bathroom before pulling the duvet down for you.
he watches with a lovesick sort of grin as you fold yourself underneath, rolling on your side to face him with an anticipatory smile. he follows, chest pressing against your own as he folds the blanket back down. he reaches back, chest flexing around his muscle to switch off the lamp.
he turns to meet your face again. pressing a sweet kiss against your mouth. you press one back. shuffling further into the bed, you nuzzle into the vacant spot of his neck, arms twisting around his midsection with one leg thrown over his own. chris responds with another kiss, this time to your head, as he secures his own arms around you.
“oh, claire called me before,” you mumble into his shoulder. you hear chris hum inquisitively–no doubt because he hasn’t heard you–as you pull your head back to repeat yourself.
“what did she want?” he asks. by now, his eyes have fluttered closed as sleep threatens to take him.
“she’s in town next week. wants to see us,” your hand moves up to the back of his head, playing absently with his hair as chris sighs into your touch. he grunts out something adjacent to a response as you speak up again.
“we should invite jill over, as well. and leon. i haven’t seen them in ages,” you whisper, waiting a moment for chris to give you anything but another grunt of approval, and when he doesn’t, you retreat back to your spot against his neck.
“love you,” you whisper, unsure if he’s even awake to hear it. naturally, he is.
“hmm love you,” he mumbles back, voice heavy with sleep. you breath him in once more, taking in the rare moment of peace with chris safe at home, making a mental note to give his friends–your friends, now–a call.
or...you're a little more excited to greet chris' biceps than the rest of him
vendetta!chris redfield x reader requested
cw a little suggestive, but no descriptive smut
an chris in that vendetta outfit....its the only reason I watch that film tbh
chris had last called you two days ago. he wasn’t supposed to, but the thought of nearly losing rebecca shook him more than he had let on to her and his only reprieve came at the thought of you.
it was the middle of the night, but you picked up anyway, trying to hide the sleep drooping from your voice. and for the first time in your whole marriage, chris told you every part of his mission. he told you about antonio and then about damien. but he also told you about rebecca and how they managed to save the city.
safe to say, he put in nearly a month of vacation time afterwards.
so when he finally arrives home, night having already set in, the only thing he wants is you. and luckily for him, you’re exactly where he wants you.
sat on the couch, you’ve piled blankets up high with an animated fireplace on the tv as you’re lulled into a gentle sleep. your book is rested on your chest over (two?) blankets. you hadn’t heard his key scratching at the door, nor do you hear the thump of his bag on the floor. he isn’t wearing his tactical vest anymore but he still has his bsaa-assigned uniform on. he unlatches his boots first, making sure to set them down quietly as to not wake you.
he stalks over to the couch, standing in front of you to take your book and place it onto the table, careful to keep your page. kneeling down in front of you as one large hand moves you tuck a strange of hair back behind your ear, chris’ shoulders drop in a careful calm since…well, since before he left.
your eyes twitch, fluttering open to see chris smiling warmly at you.
“you’re home!’ you sit up quickly, eyes still drooping and voice tired. you throw your arms around his shoulders, chris’ own arms falling around your waist.
you press a kiss to the side of his head, as your hands fall down to his biceps as you pull away.
“you wanna join me?” you ask, smile lightning up your face as you push the blankets away, shifting to make room for him. chris laughs from where he kneels, shaking his head.
“gotta shower, baby. you wanna join me?” he extends one hand as you shuffle around in the blanket, untangling your legs from it as you take his hand, folding it against your own as he pulls you up. with both hands busy wrapping around chris’ arm, you lean into his bicep, pressing a tired kiss there.
“missed you,” you murmur as you’re led through your bedroom and into your bathroom. setting you down on the counter, chris scuttles away for a moment to turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to your liking. he moves back toward you, resting his hands on either side of your thighs. you make quick work of grabbing back onto his arm.
“you wanna hop in? i’ll get some clothes,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your head. you press your own kiss right to his bicep before lamenting, unfurling your grip on his arm.
once the water is at an optimal temperature, you make quick work of your clothes, throwing them into the hamper. you hear chris close the door behind him followed by the shuffling of his clothes before he pulls the curtain back, stepping into the shower himself.
a cool wave of air hits you, nipples pebbling from the contact.
“y’alright?” chris asks with an amused grin.
“shut that, will you?” you scold with no real heat, turning to grab your shampoo as chris joins you under the water.
“turn around,” you look toward him, gesturing for chris to turn, which he follows quickly.
you make quick work of his hair, shampooing twice, careful not to get any in his eyes before reaching for your conditioner to lather it into his hair. once finishing, you pull him back against you, face resting against his back.
“missed you,” you murmur once more against his skin, hands moving up to his biceps, resting there for a moment before you shift, lips coming to press against the hard surface of his upper arms.
“missed these, too,” you say. gentle, barely-there movement gradually turn into nips and wanton kisses. you pull away after a moment to admire the bruise you made on his skin. chris pulls away for a moment to check the spot you’d marked.
“like my biceps, then, hey?” he asks with a grin, turning around fully to face you. his body presses into yours as he leaves his own trail of wanton markings against your neck.
“the rest of you is pretty good, too…i guess,” you mumble as you move toward his biceps once more.
“yeah? gonna show me what you think of the rest of me?” chris asks, pulling you away from his bicep to pull you up, your legs securing around his waist. despite the lack of mouthing, you’re more than content to watch his muscles at work.
or...chris finally introduces his friends to his loving wife
chris redfield x reader requested
an I was going to write the actual dinner but I couldn't bare the idea of narrating food
the best moment in his life, chris thinks, is the day he proposed. the second best was your wedding. he’s not obnoxious about it, but its safe to say everybody knows. if he’s not gushing to jill or claire about you, he’s often seen fiddling with his wedding ring or looking lovingly at a polaroid stored somewhere in his tactical vest (no one else has actually seen it, but its fairly safe to assume it’s of you).
so when he and claire are having lunch one day and she has to witness him scarfing down the lunch you packed for him, she proposes the idea of a dinner party. upon your approval, jill, leon, and rebecca are all called to prepare for meeting you for the first time.
with what minimal cooking skill she has, jill offered to bring wine; rebecca and claire brought a trifle they’d managed to perfect together while leon made mac n cheese (not exactly traditional for a roast dinner, but it’s like his fourth favourite food).
which is why you’re standing in your kitchen, hair pushed up and away from your face, music thumping through your headphones, entirely oblivious to chris coming up behind you.
the years he’s spent as an elite solider have quietened his footsteps, something that doesn’t seem to matter when your ears are busy embracing whatever pop soundtrack you had on. his hand lands warm against your shoulder, trying to not scare you which, unsurprisingly, has the opposite effect.
you jump, a discontented noise leaving your lips as you ready the knife you’re holding. you breathe out a sigh of relief as you see your husbands face, smiling warmly at you. pausing your music, you set the knife down to wrap your arms around him, pressing a long kiss right by his ear.
“sorry for scaring you,” he says, voice muffled by your shoulder.
“it’s okay, baby. probably should turn my music down,” you murmur as chris plants you back on your feet.
“watcha makin’” he asks, moving to nick the end of a carrot from the cutting board.
“a roast. and i needed that,” you chastise, giving him a pointed look. his cheeks flush red as he presses an apology kiss against your temple, then the side of your nose, and finally your lips.
“i’ll set the table, shall i?” he asks, already moving to the utensil draw to pull out six sets of dining ware.
“that’d be great, chris.”
…
you’re practically vibrating by the time the clock hits 5:30pm. the chicken has finished by now and is resting with the oven on the still warm setting. a dish of mashed potatoes sit next to honey roasted vegetables with a side salad settling in the fridge. but messing about with it all doesn’t seem to stop your incessant worrying.
chris is perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, sipping at a glass of water as he beckons you over.
“i don’t know why you’re worry, sweetheart. they’re going to love you…you know i do,” he says with a grin. he pulls you into him, hands going to rest in your back pockets as your chest bumps into his.
“i know but i just want it to be–” the doorbell chimes, interrupting you. nonetheless, you scatter to the front door quickly, taking a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror. chris follows somewhere behind you as you open the door.
“hi! im so glad you two could make it!” you start as a woman with a short brown bob grins at you, bottle of wine in hand. a man stands just behind her–surely that’s leon–with a tray covered in tin foil.
“of course! i’m jill, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she extends her hand and you take it, smiling back at her as chris finally makes it to the door.
“hi, i’m leon. chris has told us so much about you,” leon grins at you, throwing one arm around you in a quick hug.
“good to see you jill, leon. this is my wife,” he says with a proud grin and a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“come in, come in,” you usher, taking jill’s coat for her as you complement her outfit. leon folds his own on his arm, insisting on keeping it. you do, however, take the mac n cheese away.
you make quick work of jill’s coat, stashing it in a spare bedroom before making a quick trip to the kitchen. you return to find chris and jill laughing in tandem at seemingly the wine bottle, snickering as leon points to the label. chris’ grin grows impossibly wider as you return.
“this wine jill brought is from a region in spain we went to for an old op,” he explains, stretching his arm out for you to stand in, “she didn’t even notice!” he laughs as he tugs you close to him. you give a polite laugh, quietly captivated by their friendship
“wow..! chris doesn’t tell me anything about his work. i didn’t realise you went so far! did you go too, leon?” you ask.
“well not anymore. that was back when we worked together at stars–i presume chris told you about that?” she says, laugh dying down as she smiles at you.
“--and, no,” leon interjects, “i never worked at stars but i spend more than enough time with them now,” he says with a firm pat to jill’s shoulder.
“oh right, okay. wait the stars back in raccoon city? i heard you guys were pretty impressive,” just as you answer, the doorbell rings once more. chris offers to take jill and leon to the living room as you make your way over to the door, nerves filling back up once more. surely they’ll all be as kind as jill.
you open the door to find two more women–one with short hair carrying a trifle and the other one with a ponytail with a face almost identical to chris. you stammer out a polite greeting to them, acutely aware that your husband’s sister–one of the most important people in his life–is standing right in front of you.
naturally, they are as kind and welcoming as jill. you lead them into the living room, taking a quick detour into the kitchen to put said trifle in the fridge before joining them in the lounge room.
jill and claire have sat on both arm chairs in the room while rebecca and leon sit side by side on the couch. chris has perched himself on the arm of the sofa, leaving a space for you right beside him. he notices you first, extending a warm arm out to you, you make your way to the couch to settle in beside him.
you laugh along with claire and jill as rebecca tells a story about leon and chris from a few years back as the thundering of your nervous heart begins to ease up. you breathe out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, allowing the warmth of chris’ friends–and shortly, your’s, too–to envelope your home hopefully not for the last time.
...
after two hours of drinking and eating good food with even better people, you and chris stand by the door as you say goodbye to your friends.
naturally, Claire was the last to leave after her and chris got into a heated debate they only managed to pause a moment ago. after a hug to her brohter--a stark contrast to their behaviour before--Claire makes her way to you, enveloping you in a hug just as warm and just as long.
"it was so nice to get to meet you. we'll have to do this again, soon," you say as she releases you.
or...your lowkey relationship with chris is tested when he fails to put his trust in you
chris redfield x hws!reader requested
cw blood mention but it's not bad or a lot
an hope u enjoy !!! I heart chris and his stupid face
you had first met chris while working for the bsaa. you were a relatively new solider, chris a seasoned one but it was no secret he had been impressed by you. during your training you had scored highest in your class, on the field you were sharp and unshaken, quick and efficient. you proved a real asset to your team. when chris separated from the bsaa officially, he poached you onto his hound wolf squad and you quickly found your way into the position of a sniper. on your fourth mission with the team, you had single handedly managed to take down over half of the bow’s the squad were fighting while figuring out their weakness, potentially saving the world from a nationwide outbreak.
it had been after that same mission, a simple recon turned into a full on war, that you and chris get closer. he had been injured–a clean shot right through his shoulder–and with no designated medic around, you took to helping him. the other members had sprawled out around the safehouse, leaving the two of you alone in the bathroom.
one thing led to another and chris ended up kissing you there, beer nursed in the hand that wasn’t cradling the back of your neck. as sweet as it was–as right as it felt, no one else could know. it wasn’t like it was a policy violation, for there was no organisation controlling you anymore, but you figured it was best if the other members didn’t know. for now, it would just be between you and chris.
you had shuffled out the cramped bathroom together, quickly detailing the extent of chris’ injuries to emily, one of the few members still awake, and nearly running off to your bed to hide the flush of your cheeks and scarlet love bitten lips.
and that’s how it went for you and Chris. every moment alone was stolen by the need to be near him or around him. even in the company of the others, you found yourself next to him, head craned as you listened intently to whatever he had to say. and chris was no different. he was always ready to ask for your opinion, give you his undivided attention and quiet the other members whenever you had something to say. this was how your callsign, beta, came about. despite rolando being chris’ official second-in-command, it was him who had coined the name and it just stuck.
now, it was being used by chris as he shouted helplessly for you over the radio, but with no response. it was meant to be a simple recon mission somewhere in canada where snow piled high up your calves and radio signal was weakened but it was quickly turning into an intense battle you both were far too outnumbered for.
the rest of the squad wasn’t there; they were two towns over chasing down another lead leaving you and chris to scope out this one. turns out, there were more people there than what you bargained for, and while you were in relative safety being sofar away, it didn’t stop three rogues from advancing on your position.
chris had first noticed the snipers lack of…well, sniping almost the moment it happened. you had pressed your comms button, shouting something about taking a moment to deal with some issues that hadn’t fully reached chris. your message had come in staticy shouts that sent worry down his spine. he should stay down here. and he should hold out to finish his search of the houses and trust in your ability to defend yourself, and yet he can’t make himself do that.
he backtracks to where his motorbike sits, engine still chugging away from when he forgot to turn it off in his haste. hopping on easily, he makes quick work of twisting down narrow streets, steadily climbing the incline of the mountain, reaching for your position.
he rounds the final corner to come face to face with you, surrounded by two men with three more face down on the ground. he immediately notices the splotches of blood blooming next to them in the snow. you made quick work of them–a thought that made pride bloom in his chest.
he looks toward you as he races ahead, unholstering his own gun. you had disarmed the other two but your sniper rille was nowhere in sight. he’s not sure where your pistol is, but he doesn’t stop to consider it as he makes quick work of the other two.
silence falls on the mountain side as they drop into the snow, more blood staining the pristine white beneath your shoes. your breath is laboured and heavy as you turn around to face chris.
“damnit, alpha! i had it under control. stop trying to protect me just because i’m a woman!” you shout, breaking the short lived serenity. chris is huffing out a breath himself, holstering his gun as his eyes stay locked onto yours.
“i didn’t protect you because you’re a woman,” he pauses, hesitating for a moment before continuing, eyes finally leaving yours as he looks toward the ground, “i was protecting you because you’re my woman,” he finishes.
you eyes softened, harsh glare shifting into a warm appreciation.
“chris…”
“you’re more important to me than you’ll ever know. i know you can handle yourself, but i’d much rather be there to help you,” he says, still not meeting your gaze as you step closer to him. snow crunching beneath you.
“we should call the others, see what information they have,” you say, hands snaking up to rest around chris’ neck as you push yourself onto your tip toes. chris hunches over to meet you halfway as his eyes finally meet yours once more. your lips press a chaste kiss against his, barely longer than a moment, but it somehow manages to calm your racing mind. chris’ arms fall around your waist, pulling you into his chest as you catch your breath.
“lets hope they have something, yeah?” chris jokes. your head lifts from his chest with an inquisitive raise of your eyebrow, but he’s not looking at you. his gaze is set on the town below. yours trail the same path.
you see a large group of people–the same ones you were fighting–throwing lit torches against the houses, setting ablaze whatever evidence would’ve been there. strangely enough, you don’t mind. standing far enough away and in the comfort and safety of chris’ arms, a failed mission doesn’t bother you. not when you have something so warm to occupy your thoughts.
"you're his WHAT?" you hear over the radio as the voices of your squad flood in. but, once again, you can't find it in yourself to care.
chris becomes captain of the hound wolf squad and he loves his squad and all—he trusts them with his life—but it reminds him alor of being back in stars except his own habits start to remind him of wesker’s.
after a particularly tough mission, he yells at his team but he’s only doing it because he cares. he’s scared to lose any one of them and if they all see him as some angry prick then who cares because they’re still alive.
he realises he’s been pushing them harder and harder, complimenting them less and less but only because he wants them to be as capable as possible. if they weren’t properly trained and got hurt, he’d never forgive himself.
he rarely lets any of them go out on their own. there’s always someone watching their 6 or perched high with a view from their sniper. he doesn’t care if it frustrates them, or if they’re far more capable than the work he assigns them, he knows what it’s like to be left alone and suffer for it.
chris is immensely proud of his team, and everything he does is out of love. he starts to wonder whether that’s just what albert was doing, too.
thinking about re5 when they mentioned wesker had to take regular shots to maintain his humanity or wtv and so one night pre re1 when stars come back from some sort of mission, wesker is injured and unconscious so jill and chris make sure to give him his shot for him : ((((
STARS!reader who’s a virgin telling jill that they’ve never been with anyone so she offers to take their virginity and then boom chris walks in and offers to show them what it’s like with a guy
