goofyahhcats

[goofyahhcats]

hello my silly gooses :3

Ive truly loved my (short) time on tumblr, and writing fanfics for you all, but my resi hyperfixation is simply no longer there and i cant really bring myself to write stuff about it anymore. (red dead's fault tbh)

Basically this account will no longer be in use, unless i somehow rekindle my resi obsession. Thanks for the time i had on here y'all, i really loved it :)

- cats

[goofyahhcats]

need to remember

rating: E Piers Nivans/GN!Reader 18+ warnings: afab gn!reader, cunnilingus, spanking, p in v sex, choking, fluff, porn with feelings, creampie, come shot, aftercare, no gendered terms, no use of y/n word count 2.6k summary: Piers comes home from a mission needing to remember how you feel under him. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50510392 AN: Finished commission for an anonymous client!

It was always this way when Piers came home.

Tripping out of his boots, throwing his clothes, he covered you like a tidal wave. He was all-encompassing in his need for you, needing rapid fire relief in the form of touching you, of tearing you asunder with nothing but love in his eyes. It was a need you barely understood sometimes, primal in a way, but you were more than happy to provide it to him.

Especially when he used that smug mouth of his to get you ready. Licking and suckling your clit until you were drowning in pleasure, scraping at the back of his head as he dragged his cock over the sheets, rutting down and leaving smears of pre-come as he got off on the taste of your cunt.

“Piers–” Fuck, he was good. He had you pushing him onto the bed in minutes. Your pussy wept, dripping freely onto his pelvis, wetting the coarse, unkempt hair around the base of his cock. Your hand curled around him, and your fingers flexed. You pressed your cunt against the head of his cock, found an ache where there used to be none, and you slowed. “Sorry, it’s just–”

“I know,” Piers assured you. “Take it slow, sweetheart. I’ve got time.” Your walls stretched, and he popped past the opening to your cunt with a wet noise. You gritted your teeth. He stretched you open as you sank down. You started to remember the shape of him. Your walls clamped down, rippled along his shaft, and you bit back a moan when the heat changed from a sting of pain to the dull-toothed scrape of pleasure.

You sat down fully. You faced away from him, your hands gripping his thighs as you leaned forward. The movement caused his cock to slip free, and Piers guided himself back into you. As you adjusted your hips, Piers gripped your ass, each hand full of muscle. He squeezed. His fingers left indents that threatened to bruise. He was holding back for the moment. But you knew it wouldn’t be long now.

You started to rock. Cunt slicking up the length of Piers’ cock, you would slam back down with enough force to make the mattress creak. But each upward drag was deliberate, slow. You wanted him to remember you, too, to revel in the velveteen vice between your thighs. Piers watched your pussy suck him inside as you moved. You knew he was in awe, quiet for the first time in his life,

And then he hit you. A firm smack to your ass. You jolted forward, nails digging into his thighs. You scratched lines against him, the thick hair on his thighs barely hiding the obvious claw marks.

“Shit, you like that, babe? Just wanted you to go a little faster.” You could hear the grin on his face, know he looks absolutely insufferable right now. You wished you were facing him, if for nothing else so you were able to kiss away that stupid look.

“Fuck you.”

“You are, sweetheart,” Piers purred as he leaned up a little. The bed shifted beneath him, and you felt his hand connect with your ass with a loud crack again. “Come on, show me how much you missed me.”

Your cunt tightened around him with the next hit. You looked over your shoulder, and you locked your gaze with Piers’. Hot, burning, his hazel eyes were simmering with his need. That smirk you’d heard was gone, replaced with a riptide of intensity. His other hand raced up your spine, pushed you forward. Your hands slid down until you were using his shins as braces. Your hips bucked faster, slick schlicks as your walls milked his cock.

“That’s my fucking babe.” Pride made Piers’ words breathy. “You’re so goddamn good.”

Piers rubbed his palms over your ass again. His palms, warm from the friction of spanking you, still soothed those spots where pain sat just under the skin. You were just about to sigh, drink in the little reprieve when his hand smacked into you again. You jolted this time, unexpected, and his cock slipped from you.

“Easy, baby.”

Piers used his thumb to tug your cunt open as he stuffed his cock back inside for the second time. He groaned as you enveloped him, and the words started to spill from his mouth. “You’re so pretty taking my cock like this. Missed this.” A beat. The next words were much softer. “Missed you.”

You rode him like a fever had started to scratch at your bones. At some point, a particularly enthusiastic smack from Piers caused you to fold forward. You pushed your face into the mattress, and your hands raked through the sheets as you moaned. “Fuck–Piers. Shit.” You were damn near speechless. Your cunt throbbed, and, as Piers slipped out of you, you found yourself already longing for his presence again.

You didn’t have to wait long. Piers slid up behind you. His knees pressed against the insides of your thighs, spreading your legs, and he trailed his fingers up your folds until he found your ass again. His palms took handfuls, and you heard him breathe soft words, “Almost there.” A smack. It made you whimper. “Just want to remember what you look like after I’ve been all over you.”

“You take pictures,” you reminded him, voice strained from the pain, but still teasing.

“Yeah, but–” Another slam. This one brings a sharp prickle of tears to the corners of your eyes. “That’s only so good. Need the real thing. Need to remember.” Another hit and those tears raced down the sides of your face. “Nothing like being home.”

Home. He said it so easy. It made you smile through your little hiccups. Piers leaned over, pressed a kiss to the middle of your shoulder blades. His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “You’re doing okay?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Piers gave you two more good spanks. You sobbed his name, a little wail of Piers, please, before he finally granted you a break. His fingers dug into your flesh as he placed you on your back. He spread your legs open, hooked one thigh up above his shoulder as he crawled into place. His left hands raced up the inside of your other thigh. He brought it down into a much soft smack close to your cunt, and he watched your hole gush response.

“God, I need to be inside you.” He hauled your other leg up over his shoulder.

“Quit fucking teasing, then, goddammit,” you whined. The head of his dick rubbed between your folds.

“I can’t take my time? Savor my baby a little?” Piers asked. It was meant to be a taunt, something to rile you up. But there’s a longing in his words. It made you weak in the knees, and, before you could speak, a hand circled around your throat. “You know our word.”

You nodded.

Piers started to squeeze.

Your head tipped back to allow his palm better access to your neck. He started to pound into the soft, warm heat of your pussy. Your back slid along the sheets, but you were pinned firmly in place by Piers’ hand against you. His fingers found your blood vessels, pinching them. Warmth flooded your face, and you felt the dizziness start to swirl inside your skull.

Already overwhelmed, Piers made it worse as he used your neck to hold himself up, other hand finding the pearl of your clit. It pulsed beneath his fingers, twitching just slightly. You rocked into his thrusts, into the rough circles he drew. “Let me see you come for me, baby,” Piers begged. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you do. I need it.”

“Piers–”

“Oh, sweetheart, say it again. Please.”

“Piers,” you cried, louder now. It echoed off the walls of your home. This was it for you. These were the moments that made everything worth it. Every deployment to some godforsaken spot of the world, every blood-curdling scream when you got calls about Piers being injured in the line of duty. None of it mattered when he held you like this. When he so fully claimed you, pinned you by the throat and took you like you were made for his cock.

And in your mind, as he fucked you, soft praises falling from his lips, you were. You were made for this man above you. Piers eased his grip just a bit as he saw your eyes fog. He could read you so beautifully. It made your heart sing, and your body seized up from the rush of blood.

You came around his cock with another sweet call of his name. Your walls fluttered, ripping him through the current with you, and Piers followed. He grunted low, teeth bared in a snarl as the first few ropes painted your insides. Piers slipped his cock out, still coming, and he laid it on your pelvis. His cock bowed as it spurted, leaking generous amounts over your belly and down across the folds of your cunt. It was hot in a few ways as you watched him mark you.

The second he was spent, Piers immediately let go of you. His hands covered your cheeks, cupping and running thumbs across your flush, tear-stained face. A kiss pinned to your lips made you sigh into his mouth. You gripped his wrists as he pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you.” His voice was raspy, thick with emotion.

You reached up to twine your arms around his neck, moving your legs off of his shoulders. He hauled you closer, chests pressing flush, and his nose brushed back and forth across yours. “I love you, too.”

Piers leaned up, broke the contact to kiss your forehead before pushing them together again. His eyes slipped shut as he swayed, and one hand raced across the length of your body. It calmed the shakiness, the tingling nerves all over your body. You were sore, would be for days, but then Piers opened his eyes, and you met his soft, expectant gaze.

“I love you,” you repeated softly. “I really do.”

“I know, sweetheart. You never make me wonder about that.”

Piers’ hand met some of the mess he’d left on your belly. His face turned to a scowl. “Ah, shit.”

“Pent up?”

“Hey, you try jacking off when there’s six guys around you all the time.” You waggled your eyebrows, and Piers scoffed out a disbelieving chuckle. You giggled back at him, the sound breathless.

Your laughter only heightened when your stomach growled. Piers snorted, and he buried his face against your neck to hide his laugh. “Fuck–alright, start the shower. I’ll heat up dinner.”

You kissed his temple with a hum of agreement. He lifted off of you, and you forced your screaming legs to carry you to the bathroom. You watched Piers disappear around the corner, and that longing you felt earlier rushed back up like bile. You shook it off as you stepped into the bathroom, and you twisted the knob on the shower.

Hot water splashed down from the showerhead. You stepped past the curtain and soaked beneath the heat for a bit. By the time you opened your eyes, Piers was climbing in beside you. His hand fixed against your waist while he reached for a washcloth, pumping a healthy amount of soap onto it.

“So,” you start as Piers starts to wash off the come from your belly. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Piers bobbed his head back and forth as though he were considering it. “Maybe this weekend. You know I can’t tell you much, but…” Piers shrugged. The cloth dipped between your thighs, and Piers swiped gently at the mess he’d made. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

You nodded. Your own hands were busy as you gathered a dollop of shampoo into your palms and squashed it together, forming suds. You started to scratch along Piers’ scalp, washing those soft, dusty brown locks with care. One kiss for his nose while you worked, then two more for each freckle on the left side of his face. He smiled against you, twisting to give you two matching ones along the curve of your jaw.

“You were just gone for so long.” It was quiet, vulnerable. Barely heard over the shower as it ran.

Drops cascaded over your back, making you shiver. “I know. But doesn’t that make this even better?” For emphasis, Piers reached around and grabbed your ass. It still ached from his treatment, and you jumped up to the tips of your toes. You slid slightly in the shower, but Piers kept you from falling, slick bodies pushing and grinding together. His cock twitched in response. You grinned up at him.

“Maybe.”

You finished washing through his hair, and you let the water rinse the soap off your body. As you shimmied from beneath the stream, Piers replaced you, rinsing out his shampoo. You stepped from the shower, grabbing a towel and drying off slowly. The adrenaline rush was starting to wear down, and you were exhausted. You found the first shirt on the hamper, one of Piers’ BSAA fatigue tops,and slid it on. The logo sat just above your heart.

Piers was quick to follow you, taking the towel from your hands and running it across his toned body. You appreciated the moles, the little freckles, and all the scars between them as he worked. You found him a pair of boxers–also from the hamper–and tossed them into his hands.

“Are these clean?”

“Clean enough.”

Piers rolled his eyes, but he slid them on. He gripped your hand and guided you into the bedroom, diving onto the bed. He nearly spilled the two takeout boxes that sat on the mattress. You shook your head, crawling on a little more carefully.

As you settled against his chest, Piers opened the creaky styrofoam. He handed you the lukewarm Chinese leftovers, and you retrieved your plastic fork you’d left in there from the night before. Balancing the box on your knee, you reached for the remote, clicking the tv on to a channel you knew you’d both be content with. Piers tangled his legs over you, resting his takeout box half on your shoulder.

You listened to him breathe, the click of his teeth as he started to eat. His jaw flexed against the side of your head, and he sighed. The breath from his nose fluttered across your cheek, and you twisted to kiss the corner of his mouth, getting a slight taste of some spilled sauce. Piers smiled down at you.

It was beautiful. It was mundane. Months of fighting, and now, here he was. It shocked you every time, how easily he was able to fit back into your life. How the house you lived in became a home the moment he returned. It was like he was made for this, made for you.

“Fuck–I forgot my rice.”

The half-mumbled words, spilled through a mouthful of food made you laugh. You took both of your boxes into your hands and stacked them onto the nightstand. You spun in his hold, tucking yourself to his chest as you kissed him deeply. Your tongues met, gliding over one another. Piers made a noise of surprise, but his hands smoothed down the length of your back.

“What was that for?” he breathed, grinning up at you with love dancing in his hazel eyes.

“Just–needed to remember.” You echoed his words, and Piers almost melted beneath your fingertips.

“Bet it was everything you were looking for.”

A grin. “Maybe.”

#actually sobbing what the FUCK #SICK AND TWISTEDDDD #I NEED HIM SO FUCJING BAD #actually crying #like holy fucking shit #DOMESTIC PIERS SO FUCJING ADORABLE

[goofyahhcats]

Want You All the Time

Rating: E Fuckboy! Leon s Kennedy / afab! gn! Reader Warnings: Smut, fluff, cunnilingus, handjob, masturbation, afab reader, gn reader, Petnames: Babe, baby, Fuckboy! Leon, college au Word count: 1.5k A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50486164

Happy Fuckboy Leon Sunday!

This was originally supposed to be Kinktober day 1 but I didn't really like the prompts so have this instead!

The cool air of your air conditioner drifted over your naked form. Goosebumps rise over your skin, adjoining with the slight sheen of sweat that drips down your sides. You sigh, rubbing your thighs together as you twirl your fingers over your clit. A small whine leaves your lips as you press gently against it. Rubbing motions encircle your tender bud, and you tilt your head back. 

You had been rubbing at yourself for at least half an hour. Fingers slipped inside of your hole occasionally, but you had found no release. After another moment, you removed your fingers from your pussy. Your hand was coated with your juices as you reached over to your nightstand. After fishing around for a while, your hands find silicone. Pulling it out, you drag it down to your pussy. It was a dildo, both as long and as girthy as you’d like.

You had purchased it on a whim, hoping that you would get to actually use it more often than you actually did. You had Leon to thank for that. From friends to friends with benefits, to maybe something more, you two had fooled around more than you had hoped for. Now you just used the dildo when he wasn’t around, like today; busy taking his business and finance final.

You press the head against your lips, moaning as you slide against your opening. Feeling the length press into you, you arch your back up, exhaling quietly. 

You hear voices pass by your dorm room, and you freeze, cock half hanging out of your pussy. The footsteps recede into the hallway. You thank whatever higher power that your dorm room is locked electronically. You continue their ministrations, juices coating the silicone as you press it into your pussy. You reach down and tentatively rub at your clit again, small noises echoing through your dorm, mixing with the slick sounds of your pussy. Another set of footsteps near your room, but you pay no mind, rocking your hips up against the dildo. A louder moan leaves your open mouth, and you squirm against the bedsheets. 

The clicking of your door snaps you out of your daze. A quiet beep from the other side, and the handle turns. You scramble, fighting with the sheets on your bed, something, anything to cover yourself. You successfully pull it over you just as the door swings open. 

Leon turns as he shuts the door behind him, placing your spare room keycard on your desk. He busies himself with his shoelaces.

“God, I’m so glad to be done with that fucking class,” Leon unties one shoe, moving to the other.

You stay still, unmoving. He finishes, placing both shoes by the door. 

“So anyways, babe, I was thinking-” He stands and turns around, eyes landing on you after a beat. He pauses, hands halfway into his pockets. A quizzical look crosses his face at your bare shoulders. His gaze rakes slowly down your body, lower and lower, finally stopping at your legs. 

Your whole lower body was still sticking out. 

You groan inwardly as a smirk slowly crosses Leon’s face. He takes a step closer, cocking his head. 

His finger brushes against the end of your dildo, pressing it further into your pussy. Slick gushes out of you, and Leon watches as your pussy clenches around the silicone. 

“Damn,” he muses, sliding the sheet off of your body. Your nipples are peaked, and you breathe heavily as he scans your form, “Without me?”

You scoff, breaking out of your stupor at his stupid comment.

“As if,” you smile, sitting up slightly. You take a moment to look him over. A white shirt and gray sweats with a considerable tent showing. You smirk, reaching down and gripping his cock through his pants. Meeting his eyes, you offer him the sweetest smile, “Without me?” you echo, palming at him.

He groans, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes flutter at the feeling of your palm. He doesn’t waste a second in pulling his pants down, cock springing up against his stomach. He was still half-hard as he dragged his hands over your body. You moan slightly as he removes the dildo from your pussy, the emptiness making you clench around nothing. 

“How long have you had this?” his fingers slide around the base. Two of his fingers slip inside of you absentmindedly. You moan his name, earning you a toothy grin from Leon.

“S…Since a month ago..” you shudder with uneven breaths as his other hand tends to your clit.

“Why?” His expression is of genuine confusion, his fingers pumping into you faster, “You have me, don’t you?”

A small snicker turns into another moan as he curls his fingers upward, grazing against your insides and rubbing with vigor. 

“See?” he brings his face closer to yours, “Don’t I make you feel better?” you nod slowly, small whines and moans tumble from your lips. Leon’s fingers continue their pace, his cock leaking precum onto your stomach at your sounds. He looks down at your pussy, juices coating his hand as he fingers you.

“Mhm… Damn right,” his voice is low, praising.

He smiles as he continues to examine you. Gasps and cries bounce off of the walls, and you arch your back; Feeling the slow rising tide of your orgasm build.

“Leon..” you moan, and he nods.

“I know baby, I know,” a shit-eating grin crosses his face as he crashes his lips against yours. That was what pushed you over, your orgasm washing over you hard and fast. Your wetness seeps into the sheets, coating Leon's hand generously. He removes his lips from yours, replacing them with his fingers. You suck on them, cleaning them off generously.

He chuckles at the sight, placing his other hand on the side of your waist, “Mhm, got anything else to tell me?”

You’re too dazed to respond, breathing heavily as he retracts his fingers. He examines them to make sure you cleaned properly, smiling when he sees you have. Leon strokes his cock, his precum and your spit making slick sounds as his hand pumps at it. You grab his wrist as he moves to press his cock inside of you.

Leon looks up at you, his steel-blue gaze colliding with yours.

“Too sensitive, lemme suck you off,” you mumble, trailing your fingers up his cock.

Leon smirks, leaning back and laying on your mattress. When you don’t move, he gestures to his leaking cock.

“Don’t keep him waiting,”

“Oh fuck you,” you smile and roll your eyes, slinking forward and taking the head into your mouth.

“Oh shit,” Leon slides a hand into your hair, holding it firmly.

A slick noise emanates from your lips as you slip them further down on his cock. You feel him shudder, dick twitching in your mouth. You smile around his cock, happy to finally wipe the smirk off of his face.

You set a slow pace, each schlick of your mouth earns you a groan from Leon. He tightens his fist in your hair, his other hand coming to rest on your chin. He feels the underside as it moves with his cock, and lets out a shuddery moan. His fingers brush over your lips around him, pressing into your cheek gently. 

You look up to see his eyes half closed, lips slightly parted, panting with red-dusted cheeks. You giggle, the vibrations slipping across his cock.

“Ah fuck! Shit!” Leon’s cock twitches in your mouth, head rubbing against your tongue as he pulls back slightly. He grips your hair, stalling your movement.

His cock bows, shaking and twitching repeatedly, Leon squeezes his eyes shut. He doubles over you, panting.

“Don’t do that babe… Not gonna last,” he clears his throat and swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in your view. A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, slipping under his shirt. He promptly takes it off, revealing a well-built physique that you knew oh so well. He lays back again, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat.

He keeps you there for a moment, too engrossed in the feeling of your warmth around him. He breaks out of his daze as you shift slightly, jaw feeling a bit sore. He groans at the sight, pulling you up his cock by your hair, and pushing you down again. He repeats this motion, moving faster and faster as you begin to feel him twitch in your mouth again. His hips rut up against you, and you moan around him.

“Fuck babe,” two more thrusts, “You’re so easy,” another, “Could have you however I wanted,” he removes his hand from your hair, and you bob with vigor.

“But damn it, I just want you,” a quiet moan, “I want you all the time,” he shudders, eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Baby, please,” He breathes heavily from his nose, obscene noises dripping from his lips.

“Fuck, baby please,” his voice cracks slightly, fingers twisting into the sheets. You moan around him as you feel his warmth spill down your throat. He coats your mouth, your lips, and as he pulls away; your face. He’s never cum this much before.

You cough, swallowing what is left in your mouth as you look up at him. He’s panting, eyes still shut tightly.

“Fuck…” He brings a hand up to his face, wiping the sweat off of his brow, “Dude...”

You smile, “Dude.”

#resident evil #smut #leon kennedy x reader #re4r leon #re4 leon #college au #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy

[goofyahhcats]

Even Under the Coldest Night

Rating: E Pairing: re4 Leon / gn! afab! Reader Summary: Your relationship with Leon Kennedy has been going well, great actually. Between cute domestic activities and sleepless nights (for more than one reason), you two are the picture-perfect couple. You decide to act on that as Leon is helping you prepare dinner. Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Gn Reader, Afab reader, petnames, p in v, cunnilingus, oral (reader receiving), edging (kinda)

Word Count: 2.2k

A03 link:

Dating Leon has its perks.

For one, anyone who went so far as to look at you funny was sent packing by a rough glare or an equally rough pat on the back. You didn’t mind his protectiveness, although he tended to become mildly jealous. 

He would remind you of that every night as he pressed himself deeper inside of you, his voice low in your ear. His fingers would grip your sides tight, sure to leave bruises.

“I do a better job than him, yeah?” a thrust of his hips, “They could never love you the way I do,” his cock bows inside of you at his own words, “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll always make good on that. No matter-” a whine escapes his lips, “-who it is. Fuck.”

You don’t even have to say anything. He somehow managed to get off on his own talking. Of course, the times you did participate, it had him clenching the bedsheets and screwing his eyes shut. Begging to some higher power to give him the strength not to cum at that very moment.

Your gaze was what did it, looking up or down at him with eyes deep and wide with pure love. Your touch felt searing hot, the slightest squeezes to his thigh had him crossing his legs tightly, praying no one would notice the obvious bulge in his pants.

Leon was a sweet man to be with. Adorable in every little thing he did. Cooking? Cleaning? Fixing little things around the house? Adorable. 

“I’m not adorable,” Leon looked at you with quirked-up eyebrows. He returned his gaze to what he was doing, then smirked to himself, “You are, though.”

You would snort, roll your eyes maybe. Your hands would travel up his arms, slowly at first, and then you were wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. It was a charade the two of you knew and enacted frequently. He would always smile in response, offering to

“Prove it to you, yeah?” 

Every time it ended with you spread open on his lap, facing a mirror. His fingers would dip in and out of your pussy as he kissed along your neck.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he would assure you, punctuating his statement with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, soaking them up to the knuckle.

Your whines were the only thing that could be heard in your house those nights. Leon wouldn’t even let himself anywhere near finished until you had come at least twice. 

You had also come to admire his physique. Hardened over his many years of working, fighting crime, and beating the bad guys. Today, the two of you had decided to tackle the task of dinner together. It was going well so far, with no unnecessary distractions. You had other plans, however. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been home in a while, always seeming to be out on some mission. Maybe it was the warmth in the air from the little fireplace in your living room; Leon had tended to it, nursing the flames and chopping wood outside in the frigid air. Maybe it was the love songs that were playing over the radio. Damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him bad.

You stared at his form. Shamelessly undressing him with your eyes. Big, strong, and fucking attractive. His forearms twisted as he began to knead at a ball of dough for which you were supposed to be preparing a bowl. 

Instead, you just watched as each muscle in his arms and shoulders worked together. Moving, turning, stretching. Leon lifted a hand to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. It was funny, although his outward appearance was rough and strong, his hands were always quite soft. The skin of his fingers were gentle as they meticulously explored your body each night. The pads of his fingers were always tender when they rubbed circles around your clit. 

His hair lay gently over his sharp jawline, curving over his ear all the way up to the crown of his head. The color of wheat, swaying similarly in the air as he rocked back and forth. A quiet tune escaped his lips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swinging in time with the song on the radio.

You started off innocent, slinking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You laced gentle touches along his jawline from behind, threading them through his golden hair as he worked. He smiled, kissing the hand that got too close to his mouth. You continued your work, opting to run your hands down over his chest. You prodded and squeezed at each muscle you found, dragging your fingertips against the sides of his waist. He chuckled, turning you around to face him.

“What are you planning?” he raised his eyebrows, knowingly.

“Nothing,” you blinked innocently.

Leon smirked, running his knuckle along your chin as you stepped closer, pressing your waist against his. Your arms snake around his upper body, dragging him close to you.

“Likely story,” he mused, this time tenderly brushing at your hair.

You lean your head into his touch, looking up at him with gentle eyes, “You’re the worst, you know?” the smile on your face said it all.

He matched your smile, pulling your face against him.

His lips were sweet and soft. You chuckled slightly, remembering how you had begged him to start using chapstick a few weeks prior.

He pulls away and cocks his head to the side, “What, glad I finally started using chapstick?”

You lean up and kiss him again, relishing in the plump softness of his lips. Pulling back slightly so that your faces are centimeters apart, you giggle.

“Damn right I am,”

Leon shakes his head with a smirk gracing his lips. He blinks, his lashes fluttering about in the light from the fire. His deep blue irises sink into yours, his gaze is soft. The corners of his eyes crinkle up a bit after staring for a moment, and he breaks away first with a snicker.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of his shit-eating grin- hardly succeeding. He returned to you, lips hot and heavy. He attacked your lips first, licking at them and kissing you passionately. His fingers slid all around in your hair, gripping at it occasionally. 

You swatted at his hands, mumbling a complaint about the flour from the dough getting in your hair. Leon perked up at that, dutifully turning and washing his hands in the sink. He flicked the water off of his hands and began to wipe them off on his pants. You groan, handing him a dish towel instead. He smiles and dries his hands off, while you roll your eyes. 

He grabs you by the hand and drags you to the couch. He presses you back against it as he continues to kiss your lips. The cushions were warm and inviting, the light from the fireplace giving the room a warm glow. Your lips made smacking noises as your kiss turned heavy. Leon broke away, face awash in a red blush. 

He smiles graciously and begins to lift the hem of your shirt over your head. You help him, raising your arms as he lifts it. He stops halfway up your arms, holding them up above your head with the shirt bundled between them. His strong grip keeps you there for a moment, as he shamelessly stares at your exposed chest. He lets out a low whistle, smirking to himself.

“Doesn’t get old,” he continues to stare, chuckling.

You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed.

Leon continued to admire you, running his free hand over your chest, groping at you gently. You squirm, but his other hand holds your arms firmly. After a moment, he decides to let your arms go, pulling your shirt completely off of you.

You reach up and unbutton his shirt, which he tosses somewhere on the floor along with your own. Now even, you allow your fingers to run across his chest and stomach. His well-defined chest and stomach were hot underneath your touch, and he stopped you after a few seconds. You begin to grumble in protest, but he shuts you up by dragging your pants downwards. He gently leans downward, gripping one of your thighs and tossing it over his shoulder. The other lay on the couch, he held you spread eagle. 

You shiver at the feeling of the cold air on your clothed pussy. He gently runs a finger over the wet spot on your underwear, satisfied with his work. He looks up at you, warm blue eyes fill your vision as Leon literally rips your underwear in half. 

You make a noise of protest which quickly devolves into a loud moan as Leon licks at you feverishly.  

His tongue can’t seem to decide between dipping inside of you and drawing circles over your clit. He eventually chooses the latter, pressing his fingers gently to your entrance. You whine and buck your hips. 

Leon chuckles, “Easy,” he lays a hand on your stuttering hips as you rock back and forth against his finger. “I know I’m just that irresistible, but you can at least put up a fight,” he smirks, slipping not one, but two of his fingers inside of your warmth. 

You cry out as his tongue returns to your clit, his tongue lapping at it like a puppy would water. He sucks against your mound, and he can feel your pussy clench on his fingers.

You were close, so close. Your mind went blank as you shouted his name, fingers twisting at the warm couch cushions. Leon looked up at you as you squirmed and moaned his name. The firelight flickered over your body. Each curve, lump, and scar basked in an orange glow. A few beads of sweat decorated your skin, shimmering in the light. God, you were beautiful.

Leon’s thoughts were interrupted as you grinded down on his face. His nose catching against your clit. A hot flash of pleasure shoots through your veins.

“Fuck- Leon!” You throw your head back, almost there.

With a devilish grin, he pulls away. You gasp and whine, hips bucking at nothing. Leon leans up towards your face, stroking your cheek soothingly.

“Relax sweetheart, I’ve got something better for you,” You look up at him, the phrase not quite setting in as he unbuckles his pants. His obvious hard-on shone through his boxers. He slid those down his legs too, and his cock bowed upwards; hitting his stomach and smearing it with precum. He straddles your hips, looking down at you.

You stare, reaching out a hand to run along his shaft. That caught Leon off guard. His breath hitches as your fingers circle the tip, gently prodding at him. He suppresses a whine as you stroke gently along his length.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. You squeeze at him gently as you stroke. His hips buck forward on instinct, “Hey… unfair,” his voice is strained as your strokes increase in speed.

After a moment he decides he's had enough, pulling away from your hand. He rubs his cock against the entrance of your pussy. He slides in while rubbing tight circles over your clit. You whimper, and Leon begins to thrust into you. He tries to be gentle at first, pressing light kisses against your neck as he starts to pick up speed.

“Fuck,” you moan, “Leon, please. I-” Leon nips at your neck, soothing it with his tongue, “Fuck! I need you… I need you right now,” His thrusts became more erratic. He groans into your ear as his hands find purchase against your waist. He curls over you as his pace fails him. He doesn’t hold his groans back now, fingers returning to your clit. 

Leon abruptly pulls out, shoving his head between your thighs. Your voice chants his name in time with his tongue as he licks at you. He tastes you, he tastes himself, and he sucks at your clit frantically. Your moans become higher pitched, and Leon immediately replaces his mouth with his fingers. His cock slips between your folds once again, you grab him by the back of the head and drag him down. Your lips meet, bumping into one another in your frenzy. You feel your orgasm wash over you, pussy squeezing at Leon’s cock in spurts. 

“Cum for me Leon,” you say through lidded eyes, gazing up at him in post-orgasm bliss.

He whines, actually whines. His fluids paint your insides as he shudders, lowering himself completely on top of you. You stay like this for a while. Hot breath fans over each other’s faces as the light from the fire dies down. You had shifted, sitting up with your head leaning on Leon’s shoulder. He gazed contentedly at the fire, stroking lazy circles into your back.

You practically jump out of your skin at the loud beeping from the fire alarm. Leon quickly scrambles off of the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen.

“You forgot your clothes!” you shout through the house, laughing and gathering your belongings with you.

“Fuck!” Leon’s gruff voice emanates from the kitchen. You enter, met with the sight of a very naked Leon standing over a smoking baking tray. He turns around comedically slow, presenting the charred ashes of what once was a pizza to you.

“I burnt the food.”

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #smut #leon kennedy smut #re4r leon #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #fluff #fluff and smut

[goofyahhcats]

THIS IS SO FUCKING JUST AAAAAHHHH FJFHHBDGDHKFSG

heaven knows i ain't getting over you

part iii: would you say i'm worthy? [part i / part ii]

rating: E Chris Redfield/GN!Reader/Piers Nivans 18+ warnings: AFAB GN!Reader, threesome, blow jobs, p in v sex, cunnilingus, p in v sex, come swallowing, thigh fucking, come shot, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation word count 3.8k summary: The end result of mutual pining. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49241440/chapters/126378037

Piers felt hands all over him. It was unreal. The feeling brought spots to his vision, and he tried to make sense of who was where and doing what. One of your palms skated up his shoulder blades. Fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, you tugged it down, coaxing it off of his arms. Chris pushed his fingers into the divots of Piers’ abs, sliding over each line and upwards until his shirt bunched up close to his collarbone. You peeked past his shoulders to rake your gaze shamelessly along his form.

Piers turned toward you. His thick lashes batted along his cheekbones. Your lips brushed his softly, asking, begging, and he sank into you. His mouth captured yours, and your sigh spilled onto his tongue as he pushed it into your mouth.

That fateful knock on the door had turned into this. Soft apologies, softer touches, and then you and Chris had herded him to the bedroom. Piers had been unsure when he walked in, didn’t know quite what to expect. But how could he deny the urge, the curiosity, the outright desire in his blood? He couldn’t. And that put him here, kissing you while Chris kept pawing at him.

Fevered, needy, you and Piers were like sparks of the same wildfire. But Chris reined you in. He broke you apart long enough to lift Piers’ shirt completely off. The fabric forced your lips apart, but Piers grinned before immediately diving back toward you. Chris leaned in, calm, but no less hungry, and your mouths all darted back and forth. Chris kissing you kissing Piers kissing Chris. It was messy. Piers’ head spun. Spit dribbled from dancing tongues, and the undeniable heat of arousal warmed the bedroom.

You broke first, pulling away to kiss over Piers’ bare shoulder. You planted your lips on each little mole. Piers was covered in them, and it made his spine turn to molten glass as you honed in on your mission. You began to lave your tongue over each mark, leaving shimmering, spitty trails along Piers’ skin. Chris kept kissing him, kissed Piers like he’d been aching for it for months. And if what you’d said was true, then he had.

Chris cupped each side of Piers’ face, tilting his head, and the kiss grew deeper, marrow burning in his bones at the intimacy. Chris’ stubble scraped at his face in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced. It burned pleasantly, and Piers let out the softest moan without even realizing it.

You giggled; your nose pushed into the back of Piers’ neck, and your lips grazed near his earlobe. “Chris, take it easy on him,” you mumbled, nipping at the soft skin behind the hinge of Piers’ jaw.

Chris made a little noise into Piers’ mouth, but he certainly did not take it easy. His tongue counted each molar, licked at Piers’ lips before dipping back in, eager to take what he’d been waiting so patiently for.

Piers could practically hear your eye roll as you hissed or not. Your hands snaked around to Piers’ front; nails digging in, you pulled thin red tracks down until you found the tent in his jeans. One palm pressed into the obvious bulge, and your other dragged up to squeeze his pec. Piers had to break his kiss with Chris for oxygen, eyes rolling back as you toyed with him.

“You okay?” Chris asked, leaning forward to kiss the hollow of his throat. Chris licked downward, tonguing into the well of Piers’ collarbone.

“Mhm.”

You laid your head on Piers’ shoulder, an affectionate smile on your face, and Piers thought he was destined to burn up under these touches. Chris moved your hand to the side and popped open Piers’ button. The zip of his fly was the loudest sound he’d ever heard, but the echo died as soon as your fingers pushed down the band of his boxer briefs. Chris gripped the base of his cock, pulling it free; your thumb slid along the slit on his tip. Generous drops of pre-come were smeared across his head, and Piers watched in awe as Chris dropped off the edge of the bed, kneeling by the mattress.

You replaced Chris’ hand around Piers’ cock; you urged him closer to the edge of the bed, a few quick scoots, and then you were guiding him into Chris’ mouth. Your palm tipped his cock down, controlling it as you rubbed it over Chris’ kiss-swollen lips. His tongue dropped out, letting you run it over the wet muscle gently before you helped it slip inside of Chris’ mouth. Piers threw his head back, resting it on your shoulder, and he gritted his teeth at the feeling of Chris swallowing his cock deeper.

“Shit,” Piers hissed. You turned your head to kiss his cheek gently. “Ah–fuck, captain–”

A slip of the tongue. One that, Piers suspected, did not go unnoticed. There was a grin against the side of his face which only confirmed his suspicions. You nuzzled closer. Piers could feel the blush rising to his face.

“Captain?” you purred. “Still acknowledging rank even now. What a good boy you’ve got, Chris.” Piers’ dick jumped, twitching in Chris’ mouth and against your hand. That, also, was certain to be noticed.

Piers decided to head it off at the pass. “Fuck, don’t–.” As you pumped your hand, Chris bobbed his head, and Piers groaned, losing some of his conviction. You guided the movements, slicking slowly. Chris’ spit was rolling across Piers’ shaft, and you gathered in your palm with each agonizing pass.

“What about pretty boy? How’s that?” Piers swore under his breath. But the way his dick stiffened in your grip told you everything you needed to know. Piers couldn’t deny the way it sent electricity shooting across his skin, down to his fingertips, and the velvet warmth of Chris’ mouth was divine. He couldn’t argue. Didn’t want to. “Come in Chris’ mouth,” you ordered. “He’ll swallow. You’re not the only good boy in the room.”

You moved your hand away to allow Chris the space to work. He took Piers to the base, and Piers’ jaw hung open as his hips bucked. He fucked his captain’s throat with ginger movements, not wanting to hurt, but still chasing that high so close to him.

“Christ–oh goddammit,” Piers moaned, folding forward. His hands flew out to grip the back of Chris’ head, and he thrust up once, a little rougher than intended; Chris bobbed up with him to keep from gagging, but you encouraged him, that’s it, fuck, Piers, come on, and he exploded. Your nails clawed at him again, tugging Piers backward until his back was flush to your chest. Soft murmurs rained over his ears.

“Such a good boy, holy fuck, you’re so hot. Oh god, Chris, you were right. Look at him. Fuck, look at him.”

Piers was a living blush. Embarrassment made him want to dash out of the door, but the arousal that bloomed through his body overwhelmed everything else. The heat between his hips grew. Chris sucked softly at his cock; each spurt of come hit the back of his throat, and Piers thought he might collapse as he listened to the wet sounds of Chris lapping up his hot seed.

“Piers,” you breathed. “God, I need to make you come again. That was incredible.” Your hand hooked under his chin, twisting him until you could look into his glossed hazel eyes. “You’re so pretty.”

“ ‘m not,” Piers rumbled. His voice, raspier now, made you shiver visibly, and Piers grinned. “Okay, maybe.”

“That’s better,” Chris murmured, wiping his mouth. He stood back up, and Piers’ heart thundered as his captain hovered over him. Chris reached out and raced a thumb over Piers’ bottom lip. “Can I kiss you, lieutenant?”

Fuck, so Chris had taken note of that slip up earlier, too. The use of his rank, unfortunately, made his softening cock flex in response. But he nodded. Chris dipped forward and placed his lips gingerly on Piers. This kiss was softer, and it wrapped Piers up in tenderness. It gave you time to just watch, to revel in the way they looked together. Piers wasn’t used to the attention. It made him pull away, retreat into himself.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asked, immediately taking note of his change in demeanor. You tipped your head in a curious look. “It’s too much, it’s–”

“You need a break,” you said. Your voice soothed those hackles again, made him release the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in his shoulders. You placed warm palms on each arm, kneading gently at his biceps.. “That’s fine.”

“We go at your pace, Piers.” Chris combed a hand through Piers’ hair. “Alright?”

Piers nodded slowly. His eyes cast downward, and you both moved away from him. Suddenly too empty, Piers looked down at his body, feeling it miss the presence of hands, of mouths, of hot, billowing breaths. The bed creaked as Chris pushed his knee into the mattress and hauled himself up. Piers pushed a thumb into his palm, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Come here,” you murmured to Chris. “I want that mouth now.”

“You’re the boss, angel.”

Piers' ears perked up at the familiar rustle of clothing being removed. His eyes slid over, and, from his peripheral, he could see you both naked, wet smacks of kisses as Chris laid you onto your back. Piers’ dick stiffened as his head turned, watching with veiled eyes; snake fangs of arousal pinched between his vertebrae, injecting him with an overwhelming heat as Chris nuzzled into your dripping pussy. You moaned, the sound loud, loving, and your hands flailed to find purchase.

Piers crept over, taking your palm in his own. You squeezed him tight, brows furrowed, other hand reaching to rake raised lines over his forearm. You tugged him closer, kissed Piers stupid while Chris lapped hungrily. Piers’ hips rutted forward of their own accord at your whines of pleasure and the slick sounds that Chris was making. Piers let his free hand walk down to your thigh and pull it further open, giving Chris more access.

A little hum of appreciation floated up from Chris’ position between your legs. Piers broke your kiss just in time to observe Chris sucking your thick, swollen clit into his mouth. He groaned. “Fuck, captain. Save some for the rest of us.”

It set you all at ease. Something so very Piers about what he’d said, showing you he was relaxing, finding his stride in all this. You laughed a little, only for it to turn into a moan full of disappointment when Chris pulled off your clit.

“Want a turn, Piers?” Chris asked, shifting away. His fingers pushed into the divot at the back of your right knee and shoved it wider. He tipped his head toward your cunt, shining and wet and on display, and Piers thought his lungs might give out.

“Yes, sir.”

Chris grinned, and his dick bowed, leaking pre-come from his slit. “Atta boy.”

Piers crawled over between your legs. He settled down, prone, and his fingers parted your lips. With a quick swish of his mouth, Piers spit onto your cunt. It hit your clit, and your hips lurched upwards. Chris steadied you with a hand flat to your belly while Piers watched his saliva roll across your pussy. Just as it threatened to drip onto the sheets, his tongue darted out, licking up the length of you.

“Goddamn, you taste just as good as I thought you would,” Piers mumbled before kissing your clit.

“Thought about it a lot these past few days, did you?” Chris’ voice was light.

“More than I should have, sir.”

“Can’t say I blame you.”

Piers takes your clit into his mouth. His tongue rolls over it, drawing little patterns. He gives you just the tiniest bit of suction, enough to form a seal, but not enough to make you come. Piers takes his time, runs his thumbs along your thighs as his chin grows wetter with each little bob of his head.

“Oh god–Piers, please–I need–” You’re broken. Absolutely shattered as pleasure dashes you against the rocks. Chris fists a hand in the back of Piers’ hair and urges him closer to your cunt, a low growl of come on, and Piers is working quicker. His fingers tease your weeping hole, and he presses them inside with ease. It makes both you and Piers moan, and he pumps them with fervor.

“There we go. Just a little more.”

And then you tensed, right on the edge, and Chris must have seen it in your face, because he yanked Piers back by the hair, removing his face from the oasis he’s found between your legs, and his fingers slipped out. Piers’ eyes slammed shut, hissing, and Chris offered an apologetic kiss.

“Chris,” you begged. “Please, I need him.”

“Show him, then.”

Excitement spiked in Piers’ chest as you scrambled up from the pillows. You shoved at him until his back thumped into the mattress, and your leg swung over his hips; Chris shifted until he was behind you, and Piers saw his tanned, broad hands fix on your hips.

Chris lifted you, and your hand reached down to stand Piers’ cock up. Chris guided you down, pressing your cunt against the head of his cock until it popped past that initial tightness. Piers groaned, lost in the feeling as your silk walls enveloped his length. Chris kept his hands on your hips, helping you, easing you over him, and your palms covered his own. You tipped your head back to rest against his chest. Piers bucked up to sheathe his cock fully in your pussy, and you shivered in response.

“Feels–”

“Like heaven,” Chris finished for Piers. He dotted kisses along your shoulder as your hips started to rock.

“Fuck!” Piers gritted his teeth. Your cunt flexed over his cock, and he damn near whimpered with each little movement. Chris picked you up to slam you back down onto Piers’ cock. “Oh shit, I am not gonna–mmph–fucking last.”

“Don’t need you to,” you mumbled; Chris pressed a hand onto your back and made you lean over Piers. “Need you to come inside me.”

“Christ’s sake–” Piers sounded like he was falling apart. His voice was sandpaper rough, and it dragged across every nerve in your body.

“Fill me, sweetheart.” Yours was a purr, rumbling through the air. Piers felt something against his cock, and realized, with a soft moan, that Chris had pressed two fingers into your pussy alongside his cock. The pads stroked at the underside of his cock, and he barked out another goddammit. “Let me fucking have it.”

It ripped it from him. Piers slammed his hips upward to bury his cock in your walls, and loud cry of your name left his lips. His cock twitched and he emptied himself inside, painting your cunt with come.

Neither of you seemed to mind how quick Piers was, because, despite the apology bubbling up on his lips, after a few heartbeats, Chris was dragging you down the length of Piers’ body. You giggled, twisting to look at Chris before turning back to Piers, giving him a wink. On your hands and knees, your mouth was just above his cock. It was limp, soaked with both of your juices, but that didn’t stop you from laving your tongue up the underside.

“That’s right, angel,” Chris murmured, leaning forward. “Keep spoiling Piers.” You hummed, eager to listen, eager to please, and Piers felt himself melt as you took him into your mouth. A moan reverberated through his shaft when, behind you, Chris gripped your hips and pulled your fucked-out cunt onto his cock. It commanded attention from Piers, and his cock started to stiffen against your tongue.

The room was quiet, save for the slick noises from both your pussy and your mouth. Piers was panting, overwhelmed again. You licked him clean, brought him deeper and deeper, and Chris continued to rut against you. He kept his thrusts shallow, barely leaving your cunt before fucking back into it. He was starved for you.

Piers watched, gaze lazy, and his palm rested on your cheek. He looked down at you, and something twisted in his chest at the way you looked. Eyes blurry with tears of pleasure, skin dark with a blush, cheeks hollowed as you sucked his cock, and Piers knew in that moment why Chris loved you so fiercely.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you came, dragged to orgasm by the pounding of Chris’ cock into your puffy cunt. “Without even touching your clit? Sweetheart, I’m flattered.” Piers took the opportunity to drive his dick into your throat. The flex of your muscles pulled him to another, and hardly anything left his cock when he tried to fill your mouth.

Piers was drained, too busy to even notice Chris pulling out to shoot his load over the backs of your thighs. His head tipped back, and he breathed out holy shit. You sat up, and hands curled over your chest. Chris pulled you until his chest was flush to your back.

“Piers,” you called.

“Mm?”

He looked up, propped on his elbows. His gaze fell to your legs, shoved together, and Chris’ cock peeking between them. Slow, steady slides of Chris’ length between those beautiful thighs made Piers scramble to sit up. He cupped each side of your face, and he kissed you slowly.

“Fuck–Chris–god, you two–” Piers was barely coherent. One palm dropped to cup against your thighs. Each thrust from Chris sent the head of his cock gliding into Piers’ hand, and he squeezed gently. The splatters of come from Chris’ earlier release made his movements noisy.

“Got another in you Piers?” you asked, gripping the base of his cock. He winced, sore, but it was hard to deny the heat coursing through his veins.

“One more maybe. Just for you.” Piers pecked your lips, and he pulled you closer. Piers slipped his cock between your thighs, the top rubbing your clit while the bottom pressed into Chris’ own dick. They dragged against each other on opposite paths, and you made your thighs ripple around them. “God, baby,” he moaned. “Gonna wring me dry.”

“Just wanted to take care of you,” Chris whispered. He dipped his head to catch Piers’ lips in a hot, heavy kiss. Their tongues danced together, and Chris held onto Piers’ waist with one hand. He guided his thrusts, increasing the friction. “Needed to show you what you mean to us.”

“This doesn’t have to end here,” you promise, nibbling Piers’ neck. “It doesn’t have to be just this.”

“Don’t want it to be–shit, think I’m addicted.” Piers stuttered his hips through the warm, boiling heat of his final orgasm. It traced lines up his bones, and it hurt in its pleasure. Dick twitching, nothing spilled from him. Chris kept going until his cock leaked, less intense this time. It dribbled down your thighs and hit the sheets.

Satisfied, Piers folded. His head pressed into your chest, and his arms wrapped over your waist. Chris slid away from the bed and disappeared; the familiar sound of a bath running filled the air, and Piers felt a lump in his throat. Aftercare. Something else he wasn’t used to.

You were a saint. You tangled your fingers in his hair, soothed the still sore spots from where Chris had yanked him. Kisses rained across his cheekbones, his strong nose, the curve of his jaw. You brought him back to reality, back to Piers Nivans. He was a person again, instead of a part of whatever this was turning into.

“Come on you two,” Chris urged, gripping your arms.

“A little longer.” Your voice was firm, insistent. You weren’t letting Piers move until you were sure he was fine. Chris nodded, kissing you both, and he wandered back into the bathroom. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” A breath. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“That was a lot.”

“It sure fucking was,” Piers bit out. It was rougher than he intended, but you were hardly phased. “Didn’t expect an ambush tonight.”

“Sorry.” And you were. Piers could hear it in that single word. He relaxed a little.

“I just–I don’t want anymore fucking surprises. Alright?” Piers was pleading with you. His fingertips dug against your arms, and he hauled you closer until you were chest-to-chest. Piers dipped his head, his next words a breath that ghosted over your lips. “But fuck, you make me crazy.”

“How crazy?” you giggled.

“The ‘captain’s gonna order a psych eval’ kind of crazy.” Piers grinned, and his lips pressed to yours. He pulled away after a few moments. “Though, he’s not gonna help matters.”

“Not at all.” You slipped off the mattress, and you took Piers with you. When you wandered into the bathroom, you found the tub full, steam curling off the water. Chris was starting up the shower.

“Hey,” Chris stepped over to the pair of you, and he planted kisses on your foreheads. “Piers, you alright?”

“Never better, captain.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Chris gestured to the tub. “FIgured I’d let you have some time to soak while we–” Chris grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from Piers. “–wash up in the shower.”

Piers nodded. “Okay. Yeah. If that’s–I mean, if you’re sure–” Piers climbed into the tub. He settled into the hot water, letting it simmer against his skin. He heard the shower curtain as the two of you climbed inside. Piers nearly dozed off in the warmth, but then the water turned off, and one eye cracked open.

Still dripping, you and Chris settled on the edges of the tub. Chris reached for the shampoo, and he squeezed some into his palm. Working it into a lather, he started to scrub through Piers’ soft, dusty brown hair. Meanwhile, your hands were busy with soap, slicking up and dipping under the water to clean his thighs.

“Don’t want this to end,” Piers mumbled, head tipping back. Chris leaned forward, kissing him softly. “Never getting over this.”

“I know.” You nuzzled his jaw.

“So stay,” Chris breathed. “We’ll talk in the morning. Figure out the logic.” A beat. “But stay.”

Piers didn’t answer. But the little smile on his face, the satisfied sigh that left his lungs as he sank deeper into both, told you his answer. Chris cupped his palms, gathering water in them. He poured it slowly across Piers’ head. The water rushed over his closed eyes. A kiss to his lips. From who, he wasn’t sure. Then another. And another. Until he was flooded with them.

Hands all over him. Hands that loved him. And that was very real.

#GOD I WANT THEM #RAAAAAAAAAAUGH #others work

[goofyahhcats]

Make it Back to You

Rating: E

Re4r Leon / Gn! Afab! Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Leon, was overworked. He was either never home, or drunk. The DSO had him working constantly. Miraculously, he gets the week off.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, so much Angst, p in v, relationship issues (at first), mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart)

Word count: 3.6k

A03 link here:

Leon hardly ever got days off. He was constantly working and going on missions for the DSO, saving the world day after day.

He would come and go. Some days he was there for a whole week, sometimes only a few days, sometimes never. His mood varied depending on what mission he had recently undergone. Usually, that meant he was not in a good mood. He would try his best to be with you, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he fingered you into oblivion. His serious expression lightened when he was at home, but it never completely went away. Even when he was smiling and laughing, you could feel the edge to it. Always thinking ahead, of tomorrow, of the things he’s seen already and the things to come. Even completely ignoring you at times, and just heading to the bar or to your wine cabinet to drown away the thoughts of the day.

And you hated it.

You knew the risks that would come from being with Leon. You knew the risks and you still stayed because god damn it, you loved him. You loved the way his eyebrows quirked up at the sound of your voice. You loved the way he would gently run his fingers along your back when you hugged. You loved his stupid little jokes. You loved everything about him. You loved him.

He had reminded you of that last night. He had returned from a week-long mission. His lips had feverishly attacked your neck as soon as he got in the door. He pressed you up against the kitchen wall as he continued his assault, grabbing your ass and waist in an almost hungry desire.

You gasped, grabbing at his hair as he lifted you and carried you through the apartment. You didn’t even reach the bedroom before his lips were on yours again. No words were spoken, you could feel everything he wanted, needed to say to you through his touch. He was fast, heavy, and hot with his movements. He ripped the buttons off of the front of your shirt, promising haphazardly to buy you a new one as you tumbled into your bedroom. You pressed up against him as he shut the door, fighting with his shirt. It fell to the floor, along with your pants and underwear. Leon tossed his boxers at the top of the pile and pulled your face down onto his cock. It was warm and heavy in your mouth, leaking precum that you graciously lapped up. He exhaled heavily when you wrapped your lips around him. 

You stroked him experimentally with your fist. Leon groaned and bucked up into your touch, “Don’t tease me,” he growled out, grabbing your hair and pushing you downward. You moaned at the feeling, bobbing your head quickly, “Fuck,” he groaned out, his hips stuttering forwards accidentally. You choked at his movement, pulling off to lick at his head for a moment. You dove right back in, moaning at each tug he gave to your hair. You stroked the underside of him with your tongue, backing up to lap at the head again. He groaned, ripping your mouth off of him and standing you up.

“On the bed, right now baby, please,” he commanded.

You obeyed, climbing up before he shoved you head down, ass up. You felt him lean back, admiring you all spread out for him.

“Damn baby, you’re really something,” you could hear the smirk on his mouth. You jumped at the feeling of one of his fingers prodding at your pussy. He scooped up some of your slick, bringing it up to your head to show you.

“All for me? I’m fucking honored,” he grinned, a dark look in his eye. You moaned as you felt his cock enter you. He set a brutal pace. One minute he was slamming his hips into you, the next tenderly caressing. All the while, curses and moans slipped out from between his lips. 

Your mouth was just as dirty, moaning his name repeatedly into the mattress. Your whole body shook with each thrust, sliding over the sheets with vigor. You grabbed on to anything you could to find purchase, moaning loudly when you felt his calloused fingers rub at your clit. 

High-pitched whines now accompanied each slam of his cock inside of you. You were close, and so was he. You felt him twitch inside of you, hard. He folded his body over yours and bit into your shoulder, grunting almost animalistically. 

You came hard, involuntary spasming with the force of it. Leon moaned, spilling inside of you with a final thrust.

As you both came down from your high, Leon retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom. He gently wiped you down, teasingly dipping between your folds. You swatted him away playfully, and he snuggled in next to you. You drifted off to sleep with his presence by your side.

You woke up this morning to an empty bed. You reached over and felt the sheets. Cold. Slowly making your way through your apartment, you searched. Hoping and praying to some divine being that Leon was still here. You glanced into the living room, empty. Kitchen? Empty. After checking his home office to no avail, you decided to fix yourself some breakfast. No use looking any further when you already know the answer. 

The pit in your stomach grew and stayed as you walked through your apartment. Making your way to the kitchen, you plopped down on one of the stools seated by the granite countertop. Your apartment was nice, one of the perks of having a DSO boyfriend. The modern finish and the spacious rooms made for a nice and quiet living space. High up in a skyscraper, you could see for miles out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Today, there was an extra item dotting the countertop. A small yellow sticky note. Lifting it, you gazed over the handwritten note; “Will be back at 5. The coffee shop said they needed you in today. Love you. -L”

Ah, right. The coffee shop. You had picked it up as a sort of side hustle. You did most of your work online, not needing to leave the apartment as much as you would like to. You picked up the job because you thought it would be a quick and easy way to get yourself out of the house. Leon was actually the one who got you in contact with them. They knew him since he stopped by every morning for a coffee while on the way to training. You landed the job easily with very flexible working hours. After a while of working there sporadically, you slowly began to lean out of taking shifts and working there.

This week in particular, you had called out, using up the last of your vacation days. Why? Leon was supposed to be home this week. You sighed, fixing yourself a bowl of cereal and munching as you got ready to work. 

The walk to the coffee shop was brief. You were in the heart of downtown New York City, hundreds of people bustling about. You didn’t personally love the crowds, but it was close to the DSO’s New York Branch, so it was either this or Washington DC. You entered the little shop, and put on your best customer service face.

The day went by surprisingly quickly. Customers came and went, you made a lot of Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Curse the fall months. A few notable customers came in, one being a respected scientist who ordered the sweetest coffee imaginable, smiling sweetly when you handed her the cup. Another was a man named Chris who came in with around 12 men in tow. He had apparently recognized you from photos Leon had shown him. You fixed him and his team, as you came to know them, all coffees. You had gotten the order of one man wrong, who came up to your counter with the craziest case of resting bitch face you had ever seen. He was actually incredibly sweet about it, contrary to his angled eyebrows and tuft of hair. Chris apologized for him afterward, mentioning that his lieutenant “Really looks the part, dontcha think?”

Around 4:30, you closed up the shop and began to walk back to your apartment. Entering the lobby and waiting in line for the elevator, you skimmed your phone’s news app. Chris, the man from the coffee shop, had apparently spent the weekend fighting a local drug lord and his gang. The latter had been selling biologically enhancing drugs to his clients, according to the article. You exited the elevator to your floor, walking down the hall to your apartment. 

Twisting the keys in the lock, you pressed the door open. Dropping your keys down in a basket, you made your way into the kitchen.

You were met with a candlelight dinner. Leon stood over the stove, wearing a white button-down. The sleeves were rolled up, and his dress shoes made clicking sounds as he turned to look at you. He smiled gently. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, gesturing towards the stove, “Sorry, I tried to make us pasta, but it’s taking longer than I thought it would.”

You tilt your head, mouth agape, “Hey… What’s the occasion?”, you smile, bewildered.

“The occasion,” Leon grabs a bouquet of flowers, “Is that I love you,” he says, sing-songing the last few vowels. He hands you the bouquet, which you accept, staring at him confusedly.

“Seriously, what happened?” you tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “Did you finally quit your job?” you say, amused.

Leon laughs, genuinely laughs. The sound tinkles through the kitchen, soft and melodic.

“You wish!” he kisses you on the cheek gently, “Here, take a look,” he gestures forward.

Candles illuminate the kitchen table. White cloth was draped over it, accompanied by a large vase. You lean over the table to place your bouquet, receiving a light slap on the ass from Leon.

“Hey! Uncalled for!” you laugh, gently shoving his shoulder. Leon smiles and kisses you gently. The kiss quickly turns heated as you lean back against the table. Leon puts his arms on either side of you, groaning as your tongues intermingle.

You are rudely interrupted by the stove beeping. Leon pulls away from you apologetically before tending to the pasta.

“Go change, I’ll have dinner out for us in a sec,” Leon nodded towards the bathroom door.

You look to your left. A neatly folded pile of cloth sat in front of your chair. You leaned down to pick it up. 

It was beautiful. A perfectly tailored dress shirt and pants with accompanying shoes. You looked over at his outfit of choice. You were matching.

You smiled, gently cradling the suit in your palms.

You head inside the bathroom, stepping into the dress pants. You didn’t put the shoes on, opting to just walk around in socks. After pulling the dress shirt over your head, you admired yourself in the mirror. The shirt fits you perfectly. Hugging each curve, lump, and limb beautifully and attractively. You looked good. Unlike Leon, you opted to wear the blazer along with your shirt. You also spent some time doing poses in the mirror, because of course you did.

Right when you were about to leave the bathroom, it hit you. Why had Leon done all of this? The happiness was out of the ordinary for him. He rarely did these kinds of things for you, and when he did, never this extravagant. You looked at the doorknob, What caused all this? 

You ignored the sinking feeling in your stomach as you made your way out into the kitchen, seating yourself at the table. The feeling only worsened as Leon passed you a beautifully presented plate of pasta. He poured you both generous glasses of wine from a red bottle. After returning from the kitchen, he sauntered up behind you and leaned down to your ear.

“Hey baby, looking good tonight,” he whispered, “Come here often?”

You snort, replying, “Of course. I come here all the time,” you wink.

Leon, catching your drift, skates his fingers along your upper arm, “Oh, well I bet the guy you’re with must be damn good at his job then, right?” he walks over to his side of the table and places his plate down.

You lean your face against your palm, propping up your elbow, “He really is,” you look at him dreamily, “You should meet him someday.”

Leon spears a piece of your pasta with his fork, bringing it up to his mouth and eating it. All the while, holding your gaze, “I bet I can do better than him,” he states, eyes dark.

You giggle, biting down on your lip, “Oh really? Have something for me after this?”

Leon smirks, taking a bite out of his pasta, “Mhm. Gonna be eating dessert twice today,”

You laugh, breaking character and looking down at your plate. You take a bite. Delicious.

“Didn’t really take you for a chef, Leon,” It was true. In all your time with him, you had usually been the one to cook meals. Sure, he helped every now and again, but it was never a solo job. 

Leon smiled, “Just wanted to make you feel special, is all,” he reached over the table, caressing your cheek, “And it worked, didn’t it?”

You smiled back, trying to shove down the impending feeling of… dread? Sadness? You weren't sure. The feeling mingled and danced with the warm blossoming feeling of love. The two tangled and fought, snapping at each other as you swallowed another bite of pasta. You decided to ask him later. Enjoy your time here while it lasts. Love bit down on the neck of the snake of dread. Decapitated, but still wriggling, it retreated deeper, letting love take the reins. 

You ate and talked. Friendly and occasionally flirty conversations passed between you two. None meaningful, just sweet nothings; But it felt good nonetheless. 

Words floated through the air, passion enveloping the two of you until you were both staring at each other. Lovey-dovey glances and hot touches flashed between you. His hand on your thigh, your hand over his. His knuckles brush your jaw, your fingers flit through his hair. Plates cleaned off, you rise to take them to the kitchen sink. You barely make it there.

Lips tangling against one another, Leon holds you tight. Tighter than normal. His kisses are tender and full of emotion. His hands find your waist, hooking into the belt loops of your matching pants. You kiss back just as emotionally, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. 

He gently guides you to the bedroom, where you fall onto the mattress together. Your legs tangle with each other, lips still smacking and tongues still exploring each other. He pulls away first, panting. His face is adorned with a beautiful red flush. You trace along the side of his face tenderly. He grins, breathing hot and heavy against your face. He slowly begins to unbutton your shirt. One by one, he tediously slips your blazer and dress shirt off of you, exposing your chest. He exhales quietly in appreciation, before peppering kisses down the skin. You giggle slightly at the feeling. 

Leon kisses you all over. On your shoulder blades, on your chest, deliciously smacking at each of your nipples, on your stomach, eventually reaching the hem of your pants. 

He slowly discards those as well, leaving your underwear on. He kisses down each leg, then back up again. Painfully slowly. Avoiding anywhere near your pussy. The latter of which was dripping wet, soaking through the fabric.

He took notice of this, taking one finger and gently sliding up and down over your clothed pussy. Every now and again, he’d brush against your clit, leaving you gasping and red-faced. 

Leon kissed slowly up your right thigh, making his way closer and closer to his hand. His lips ghosted over your inner thighs, his hand coming to a stop. He gently grips the band of your underwear, pulling it downwards. You shiver as the cold air of your bedroom makes contact with your dripping cunt. 

Leon wastes no time in licking a slow stripe between your folds. You moan louder than you meant to, slowly tipping your head back and taking his hair in your hands. Leon repeats the motion, licking slowly up and down your pussy. You quiver at his touch. His finger slowly prods at your hole. You whimper and grind your hips down on him, “Leon, Please. I need you,” you draw out his name as he presses two fingers inside of you, pumping them with ease. His mouth finds your clit, circling it with his tongue gently.

He speeds up the motion, circling with more vigor. Your breath is coming out in pants now. Hot and heavy. His fingers continue their steady pace, curling upwards. You see stars. Hands scrabbling at his hair and pressing him further into you. Whines and moans of his name escape your mouth. Comments such as, “Ah, right there!” and, “Don’t stop” echo through your bedroom as you buck your hips against his lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his hips grinding against the bedsheets, dick painfully hard. You’re returned to his mouth as it latches over your clit, suckling at it. His tongue flicks against it, making you cry out.

When Leon adds a third finger, you come. Slicking against his face, dripping over his nose. His face was a painting of your design, with his influence. Leon sighs happily, lapping at your hole a few times, tasting you against his tongue. 

You sigh happily, laying back and staring at him. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, looking up at you with sultry eyes. He crawls up the mattress climbing over you wordlessly. You’re still breathing hard, reeling from your last orgasm. You gently push against his chest, shaking your head, “Gimme a minute, too sensitive,” Leon nods understandingly, laying on his side next to you instead. You remove his shirt, gently caressing his chest as you calm your breathing.

You can feel the sinking feeling return again. This time, you decide to address it.

“Leon?” he looks up at you.

“What?”

“Why did you do… all of this?” your voice trembles slightly, afraid of his answer, “The real reason.”

Leon looks at you, and a sad expression crosses his face. He gently pulls you against him, wrapping his arms around your back. He sighs deeply.

“They assigned me a mission. In Spain,” he mumbles.

You don’t say anything, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

After a moment of silence, you speak, your voice quiet, almost a whisper.

“When do you leave?”

Leon squeezes his eyes shut, “Tomorrow.” 

You bury your head tightly in the crook of his shoulder. He strokes your back gently.

“They don’t know how long it will take,” a beat, “They don’t think I’ll make it back, sweetheart.”

The statement doesn’t hit you at first. You’re still taking in the last thing he said. But when it hits you, it hits you hard. A sob escapes your mouth. You knew. You knew the whole time. He would never do anything this nice for you, not unless he-

“I love you, baby,” his words come quietly, breaking through your racing thoughts. His thumb gently rubs over the back of your neck. 

“I love you, and I promise, I will come back to you,” his voice wavers a bit, but stays strong, “I will make it back. I will.”

You inhale shakily, tears streaming down your face at this point. Leon presses fully into you. You can feel his clothed cock against your naked pussy. 

“I wanna make sure you don’t forget me, okay?” he whispers, grinding his hips against yours. 

You reciprocate, grinding back. He groans, reaching down and removing his pants and underwear. He climbs on top of you, gripping your wrists above your head. He lines his cock up with your folds, rubbing against them gently.

“This ok? Need to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he mumbles gently, kissing the side of your mouth.

“Yes, god I fucking love you, Leon,” you whisper.

He grins, a tear falling down his cheek. His cock pressed into you, and you leaned your head back. Leon kisses your jaw as he sets a gentle pace. He rocks back and forth, stretching you out wide. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

His thrusts become harder, needier. He kisses your neck and moans your name. You whimper, rutting upwards into him as well. He lets go of your wrists, instead pinning your hands at either side of your head. He interlocks your fingers.

“I love you, baby,” he moans. He shuts his eyes and slides into you faster. He pants, groaning as your lips meet his. He lets go of one hand and rubs gentle circles about your clit.

“Give me one more. Come on sweetheart, I know you can,” he smiles, speeding up his finger.

You cry out, “Fuck, Leon I-... Fucking- Love you! Fuck” Another orgasm washes over you. You clench and flutter your walls around him. He grits his teeth, slamming into you hard. He grunts, moaning your name over and over with a chorus of “Take it, Take it- Fuck” You feel his warmth spill inside of your pussy. 

Leon continues to thrust, slowing down gently as he returns from his high. He looks up at you gently, grinning as he comes to a stop.

“I’ll make it back to you.”

“I know you will.”

#YALL ATE THIS UPPPP #part 2 in the works #dont tell anyone its a secret trust

[goofyahhcats]

oogh no thoughts only wesker being surprisingly reassuring to his s/o when they feel like they aren't pretty/good enough for him.... ☹️☹️☹️ ugh idc if its out of character i want that man to comfort me !!!!

Feeling this at 10000000% Like yes, it is so OOC, but god damnit I want him to just hold me tight Includes hcs and mini fics for both STARS era and re5 Wesker : ) also yaay I love these types of requests keep em coming

Suprisingly Nice Wesker Hcs

Rating: M (kissing, suggestive ending)

Warnings: very self-indulgent moment where reader is very overwhelmed and overstimulated (not in that way, horny bastard), no smut, suggestive ending, fluffy wesker (never thought those two words would go with one another in a sentence), Gn reader (reader has an outfit picked out for a gala, but the type is not mentioned, choose whatever you imagine)

Word count: 1k

- STARS Wesker would care. I said it. Hate me all you want. I think he does, he just wouldn’t voice it, like ever

- Firm believer in physical touch Wesker

- As much as he loves watching people fail, something in his heart twists when he sees you at your lowest. Especially when it comes to pleasing him. He wants you to succeed. Again, he just wouldn't say it

- Would only voice his feelings if he really truly believes in it, and if he can tell you're utterly distraught

You tilted your body left and right in the mirror. Shifting your hips slightly, raising your arms, doing a 180, and groaning.

Your outfit for the night, picked especially by Wesker, was supposed to be flattering. It was supposed to show you off as his pride and joy. But god, you hated it. The event was special, a gala with all of the upper Umbrella execs. Wesker had told you he needed you to look your best, which now worsened the feeling of failure in your stomach. You sighed, pulling at the fabric, twisting it, trying to get it to just look right. Nothing seemed to be working. You groaned, frustrated.

The whole event was getting to you, overwhelming every nerve ending in your body. Suddenly, the cloth felt too scratchy, and yet too soft at the same time. You wanted to rip it off and snuggle into it all at once. Your hands raced through your hair, as you inhaled and exhaled rapidly.

A firm hand rapped at the door.

“Dear, come out. We’re going to be late,” Wesker's voice shot straight through the wood of the door and into your heart. You looked at yourself in the mirror again, wringing your hands in frustration.

You pull open the door, met with the sight of Wesker in a dapper suit. He was adjusting his tie in a mirror. He turns to you, taking you in. Your eyes fill with tears, threatening to spill over. You don’t say a word, just gesture down at your body, and throw your hands in the air in anger.

He seems to understand, taking a step forward and caressing along your side, fingers catching on the fabric of your outfit. He hums deep in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling it away from your side, “It just doesn’t fit right. I’m sorry, I know you wanted me to look my best tonight,” a shuddering inhale, “But I didn’t know what to do, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Wesker tilts his head slightly, the hand not in your grasp comes up to your face and swipes away a single tear. A small smile tugs at his lips.

“You cannot disappoint me, dear,” he firmly grips your jaw, tilting it up towards him, “I think you look stunning,” It’s spoken low, almost rumbling over your skin, raising goosebumps.

Your eyes widen. Wesker was usually cold, stoic, and withdrawn. Never before had he voiced his praise of you in such a direct manner. Sure, you’ve received the occasional compliment, but nothing so straightforward.

You swallow heavily, sniffling and blinking a few times. You gently wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He’s stiff and awkward, but after a moment, pats your back gently. His other hand rubs your shoulder for a second, but he quickly pulls away.

He instead rewards you with a heated kiss to the lips, something he was far more comfortable with.

It’s safe to say that you two are going to be late to the gala tonight.

In the same vein as the other Wesker request, I don't think re5 Wesker gives enough fucks. By then he is already evil and blah blah blah, The most you’re getting out of him is a “You look fine, quit whining.” (But like, that's hot so not complaining)

THEN AGAIN, I think if Wesker won, like he sends Uroboros into the atmosphere, infects everyone, yadda yadda. AND Uroboros accepted you, he's all praise. Everything for his new partner whom he gets to rule the world alongside.

Uroboros coursed through your veins. You shook, letting out an ear-piercing scream. Wesker watched on from the left, having just administered the virus to the two of you. Your hands twitch, and you could literally feel your body change. Strength shot through your veins, you leaned your head back and shrieked as the virus covered you, accepting you, powering you.

You looked down at your body, writing and shaking. Terrified at what you had become. Your body still looked the same, but you felt different. You felt disgusting. A filthy creature. No longer human. You felt all of your hopes and dreams crash around you. Would Wesker still love you? The virus had accepted you, but would he?

The latter chuckled, stalking over and offering you a hand. You accept, gingerly making your way to your feet. You refuse to look him in the eyes. Instead staring down at his hand that engulfed yours. 

“My dear,” Wesker purred, running a knuckle down your jawline, “Look at me,” his hand rested underneath your chin, forcing your face upwards and towards him. His red eyes bore into your identical ones.

Wesker smirks, “Ah, It appears Uroburos has accepted you,” his other hand finds its place on your waist. He holds you firmly, “My beautiful creation,” he muses, tearing away from your gaze to scan your lower body. He releases your chin, instead caressing over your hips, your chest, and your thighs. 

“Look at you,” he smirks, shaking his head, “Not a blemish to be seen. Gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?”

You look down at yourself in disgust, Wesker notices looking up at you, “Do you have a problem with your new self?” You sigh, nodding slightly.

“You are my creation. I produce only the highest quality beings. Uroboros has proved to me that you are above human. A God. One who will rule the new world at my side, how does that sound, my dear?” His hand finds your cheek, thumb running over the skin.

You feel your worries melt away, replaced by pure happiness. You nod, returning his smirk.

You both rule the world, together.

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #albert wesker #re5 #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #fluff #i want him to hold me tight goddddddddd

[goofyahhcats]

Make it Back to You

Rating: E

Re4r Leon / Gn! Afab! Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Leon, was overworked. He was either never home, or drunk. The DSO had him working constantly. Miraculously, he gets the week off.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, so much Angst, p in v, relationship issues (at first), mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart)

Word count: 3.6k

A03 link here:

Leon hardly ever got days off. He was constantly working and going on missions for the DSO, saving the world day after day.

He would come and go. Some days he was there for a whole week, sometimes only a few days, sometimes never. His mood varied depending on what mission he had recently undergone. Usually, that meant he was not in a good mood. He would try his best to be with you, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he fingered you into oblivion. His serious expression lightened when he was at home, but it never completely went away. Even when he was smiling and laughing, you could feel the edge to it. Always thinking ahead, of tomorrow, of the things he’s seen already and the things to come. Even completely ignoring you at times, and just heading to the bar or to your wine cabinet to drown away the thoughts of the day.

And you hated it.

You knew the risks that would come from being with Leon. You knew the risks and you still stayed because god damn it, you loved him. You loved the way his eyebrows quirked up at the sound of your voice. You loved the way he would gently run his fingers along your back when you hugged. You loved his stupid little jokes. You loved everything about him. You loved him.

He had reminded you of that last night. He had returned from a week-long mission. His lips had feverishly attacked your neck as soon as he got in the door. He pressed you up against the kitchen wall as he continued his assault, grabbing your ass and waist in an almost hungry desire.

You gasped, grabbing at his hair as he lifted you and carried you through the apartment. You didn’t even reach the bedroom before his lips were on yours again. No words were spoken, you could feel everything he wanted, needed to say to you through his touch. He was fast, heavy, and hot with his movements. He ripped the buttons off of the front of your shirt, promising haphazardly to buy you a new one as you tumbled into your bedroom. You pressed up against him as he shut the door, fighting with his shirt. It fell to the floor, along with your pants and underwear. Leon tossed his boxers at the top of the pile and pulled your face down onto his cock. It was warm and heavy in your mouth, leaking precum that you graciously lapped up. He exhaled heavily when you wrapped your lips around him. 

You stroked him experimentally with your fist. Leon groaned and bucked up into your touch, “Don’t tease me,” he growled out, grabbing your hair and pushing you downward. You moaned at the feeling, bobbing your head quickly, “Fuck,” he groaned out, his hips stuttering forwards accidentally. You choked at his movement, pulling off to lick at his head for a moment. You dove right back in, moaning at each tug he gave to your hair. You stroked the underside of him with your tongue, backing up to lap at the head again. He groaned, ripping your mouth off of him and standing you up.

“On the bed, right now baby, please,” he commanded.

You obeyed, climbing up before he shoved you head down, ass up. You felt him lean back, admiring you all spread out for him.

“Damn baby, you’re really something,” you could hear the smirk on his mouth. You jumped at the feeling of one of his fingers prodding at your pussy. He scooped up some of your slick, bringing it up to your head to show you.

“All for me? I’m fucking honored,” he grinned, a dark look in his eye. You moaned as you felt his cock enter you. He set a brutal pace. One minute he was slamming his hips into you, the next tenderly caressing. All the while, curses and moans slipped out from between his lips. 

Your mouth was just as dirty, moaning his name repeatedly into the mattress. Your whole body shook with each thrust, sliding over the sheets with vigor. You grabbed on to anything you could to find purchase, moaning loudly when you felt his calloused fingers rub at your clit. 

High-pitched whines now accompanied each slam of his cock inside of you. You were close, and so was he. You felt him twitch inside of you, hard. He folded his body over yours and bit into your shoulder, grunting almost animalistically. 

You came hard, involuntary spasming with the force of it. Leon moaned, spilling inside of you with a final thrust.

As you both came down from your high, Leon retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom. He gently wiped you down, teasingly dipping between your folds. You swatted him away playfully, and he snuggled in next to you. You drifted off to sleep with his presence by your side.

You woke up this morning to an empty bed. You reached over and felt the sheets. Cold. Slowly making your way through your apartment, you searched. Hoping and praying to some divine being that Leon was still here. You glanced into the living room, empty. Kitchen? Empty. After checking his home office to no avail, you decided to fix yourself some breakfast. No use looking any further when you already know the answer. 

The pit in your stomach grew and stayed as you walked through your apartment. Making your way to the kitchen, you plopped down on one of the stools seated by the granite countertop. Your apartment was nice, one of the perks of having a DSO boyfriend. The modern finish and the spacious rooms made for a nice and quiet living space. High up in a skyscraper, you could see for miles out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Today, there was an extra item dotting the countertop. A small yellow sticky note. Lifting it, you gazed over the handwritten note; “Will be back at 5. The coffee shop said they needed you in today. Love you. -L”

Ah, right. The coffee shop. You had picked it up as a sort of side hustle. You did most of your work online, not needing to leave the apartment as much as you would like to. You picked up the job because you thought it would be a quick and easy way to get yourself out of the house. Leon was actually the one who got you in contact with them. They knew him since he stopped by every morning for a coffee while on the way to training. You landed the job easily with very flexible working hours. After a while of working there sporadically, you slowly began to lean out of taking shifts and working there.

This week in particular, you had called out, using up the last of your vacation days. Why? Leon was supposed to be home this week. You sighed, fixing yourself a bowl of cereal and munching as you got ready to work. 

The walk to the coffee shop was brief. You were in the heart of downtown New York City, hundreds of people bustling about. You didn’t personally love the crowds, but it was close to the DSO’s New York Branch, so it was either this or Washington DC. You entered the little shop, and put on your best customer service face.

The day went by surprisingly quickly. Customers came and went, you made a lot of Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Curse the fall months. A few notable customers came in, one being a respected scientist who ordered the sweetest coffee imaginable, smiling sweetly when you handed her the cup. Another was a man named Chris who came in with around 12 men in tow. He had apparently recognized you from photos Leon had shown him. You fixed him and his team, as you came to know them, all coffees. You had gotten the order of one man wrong, who came up to your counter with the craziest case of resting bitch face you had ever seen. He was actually incredibly sweet about it, contrary to his angled eyebrows and tuft of hair. Chris apologized for him afterward, mentioning that his lieutenant “Really looks the part, dontcha think?”

Around 4:30, you closed up the shop and began to walk back to your apartment. Entering the lobby and waiting in line for the elevator, you skimmed your phone’s news app. Chris, the man from the coffee shop, had apparently spent the weekend fighting a local drug lord and his gang. The latter had been selling biologically enhancing drugs to his clients, according to the article. You exited the elevator to your floor, walking down the hall to your apartment. 

Twisting the keys in the lock, you pressed the door open. Dropping your keys down in a basket, you made your way into the kitchen.

You were met with a candlelight dinner. Leon stood over the stove, wearing a white button-down. The sleeves were rolled up, and his dress shoes made clicking sounds as he turned to look at you. He smiled gently. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, gesturing towards the stove, “Sorry, I tried to make us pasta, but it’s taking longer than I thought it would.”

You tilt your head, mouth agape, “Hey… What’s the occasion?”, you smile, bewildered.

“The occasion,” Leon grabs a bouquet of flowers, “Is that I love you,” he says, sing-songing the last few vowels. He hands you the bouquet, which you accept, staring at him confusedly.

“Seriously, what happened?” you tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “Did you finally quit your job?” you say, amused.

Leon laughs, genuinely laughs. The sound tinkles through the kitchen, soft and melodic.

“You wish!” he kisses you on the cheek gently, “Here, take a look,” he gestures forward.

Candles illuminate the kitchen table. White cloth was draped over it, accompanied by a large vase. You lean over the table to place your bouquet, receiving a light slap on the ass from Leon.

“Hey! Uncalled for!” you laugh, gently shoving his shoulder. Leon smiles and kisses you gently. The kiss quickly turns heated as you lean back against the table. Leon puts his arms on either side of you, groaning as your tongues intermingle.

You are rudely interrupted by the stove beeping. Leon pulls away from you apologetically before tending to the pasta.

“Go change, I’ll have dinner out for us in a sec,” Leon nodded towards the bathroom door.

You look to your left. A neatly folded pile of cloth sat in front of your chair. You leaned down to pick it up. 

It was beautiful. A perfectly tailored dress shirt and pants with accompanying shoes. You looked over at his outfit of choice. You were matching.

You smiled, gently cradling the suit in your palms.

You head inside the bathroom, stepping into the dress pants. You didn’t put the shoes on, opting to just walk around in socks. After pulling the dress shirt over your head, you admired yourself in the mirror. The shirt fits you perfectly. Hugging each curve, lump, and limb beautifully and attractively. You looked good. Unlike Leon, you opted to wear the blazer along with your shirt. You also spent some time doing poses in the mirror, because of course you did.

Right when you were about to leave the bathroom, it hit you. Why had Leon done all of this? The happiness was out of the ordinary for him. He rarely did these kinds of things for you, and when he did, never this extravagant. You looked at the doorknob, What caused all this? 

You ignored the sinking feeling in your stomach as you made your way out into the kitchen, seating yourself at the table. The feeling only worsened as Leon passed you a beautifully presented plate of pasta. He poured you both generous glasses of wine from a red bottle. After returning from the kitchen, he sauntered up behind you and leaned down to your ear.

“Hey baby, looking good tonight,” he whispered, “Come here often?”

You snort, replying, “Of course. I come here all the time,” you wink.

Leon, catching your drift, skates his fingers along your upper arm, “Oh, well I bet the guy you’re with must be damn good at his job then, right?” he walks over to his side of the table and places his plate down.

You lean your face against your palm, propping up your elbow, “He really is,” you look at him dreamily, “You should meet him someday.”

Leon spears a piece of your pasta with his fork, bringing it up to his mouth and eating it. All the while, holding your gaze, “I bet I can do better than him,” he states, eyes dark.

You giggle, biting down on your lip, “Oh really? Have something for me after this?”

Leon smirks, taking a bite out of his pasta, “Mhm. Gonna be eating dessert twice today,”

You laugh, breaking character and looking down at your plate. You take a bite. Delicious.

“Didn’t really take you for a chef, Leon,” It was true. In all your time with him, you had usually been the one to cook meals. Sure, he helped every now and again, but it was never a solo job. 

Leon smiled, “Just wanted to make you feel special, is all,” he reached over the table, caressing your cheek, “And it worked, didn’t it?”

You smiled back, trying to shove down the impending feeling of… dread? Sadness? You weren't sure. The feeling mingled and danced with the warm blossoming feeling of love. The two tangled and fought, snapping at each other as you swallowed another bite of pasta. You decided to ask him later. Enjoy your time here while it lasts. Love bit down on the neck of the snake of dread. Decapitated, but still wriggling, it retreated deeper, letting love take the reins. 

You ate and talked. Friendly and occasionally flirty conversations passed between you two. None meaningful, just sweet nothings; But it felt good nonetheless. 

Words floated through the air, passion enveloping the two of you until you were both staring at each other. Lovey-dovey glances and hot touches flashed between you. His hand on your thigh, your hand over his. His knuckles brush your jaw, your fingers flit through his hair. Plates cleaned off, you rise to take them to the kitchen sink. You barely make it there.

Lips tangling against one another, Leon holds you tight. Tighter than normal. His kisses are tender and full of emotion. His hands find your waist, hooking into the belt loops of your matching pants. You kiss back just as emotionally, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. 

He gently guides you to the bedroom, where you fall onto the mattress together. Your legs tangle with each other, lips still smacking and tongues still exploring each other. He pulls away first, panting. His face is adorned with a beautiful red flush. You trace along the side of his face tenderly. He grins, breathing hot and heavy against your face. He slowly begins to unbutton your shirt. One by one, he tediously slips your blazer and dress shirt off of you, exposing your chest. He exhales quietly in appreciation, before peppering kisses down the skin. You giggle slightly at the feeling. 

Leon kisses you all over. On your shoulder blades, on your chest, deliciously smacking at each of your nipples, on your stomach, eventually reaching the hem of your pants. 

He slowly discards those as well, leaving your underwear on. He kisses down each leg, then back up again. Painfully slowly. Avoiding anywhere near your pussy. The latter of which was dripping wet, soaking through the fabric.

He took notice of this, taking one finger and gently sliding up and down over your clothed pussy. Every now and again, he’d brush against your clit, leaving you gasping and red-faced. 

Leon kissed slowly up your right thigh, making his way closer and closer to his hand. His lips ghosted over your inner thighs, his hand coming to a stop. He gently grips the band of your underwear, pulling it downwards. You shiver as the cold air of your bedroom makes contact with your dripping cunt. 

Leon wastes no time in licking a slow stripe between your folds. You moan louder than you meant to, slowly tipping your head back and taking his hair in your hands. Leon repeats the motion, licking slowly up and down your pussy. You quiver at his touch. His finger slowly prods at your hole. You whimper and grind your hips down on him, “Leon, Please. I need you,” you draw out his name as he presses two fingers inside of you, pumping them with ease. His mouth finds your clit, circling it with his tongue gently.

He speeds up the motion, circling with more vigor. Your breath is coming out in pants now. Hot and heavy. His fingers continue their steady pace, curling upwards. You see stars. Hands scrabbling at his hair and pressing him further into you. Whines and moans of his name escape your mouth. Comments such as, “Ah, right there!” and, “Don’t stop” echo through your bedroom as you buck your hips against his lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his hips grinding against the bedsheets, dick painfully hard. You’re returned to his mouth as it latches over your clit, suckling at it. His tongue flicks against it, making you cry out.

When Leon adds a third finger, you come. Slicking against his face, dripping over his nose. His face was a painting of your design, with his influence. Leon sighs happily, lapping at your hole a few times, tasting you against his tongue. 

You sigh happily, laying back and staring at him. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, looking up at you with sultry eyes. He crawls up the mattress climbing over you wordlessly. You’re still breathing hard, reeling from your last orgasm. You gently push against his chest, shaking your head, “Gimme a minute, too sensitive,” Leon nods understandingly, laying on his side next to you instead. You remove his shirt, gently caressing his chest as you calm your breathing.

You can feel the sinking feeling return again. This time, you decide to address it.

“Leon?” he looks up at you.

“What?”

“Why did you do… all of this?” your voice trembles slightly, afraid of his answer, “The real reason.”

Leon looks at you, and a sad expression crosses his face. He gently pulls you against him, wrapping his arms around your back. He sighs deeply.

“They assigned me a mission. In Spain,” he mumbles.

You don’t say anything, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

After a moment of silence, you speak, your voice quiet, almost a whisper.

“When do you leave?”

Leon squeezes his eyes shut, “Tomorrow.” 

You bury your head tightly in the crook of his shoulder. He strokes your back gently.

“They don’t know how long it will take,” a beat, “They don’t think I’ll make it back, sweetheart.”

The statement doesn’t hit you at first. You’re still taking in the last thing he said. But when it hits you, it hits you hard. A sob escapes your mouth. You knew. You knew the whole time. He would never do anything this nice for you, not unless he-

“I love you, baby,” his words come quietly, breaking through your racing thoughts. His thumb gently rubs over the back of your neck. 

“I love you, and I promise, I will come back to you,” his voice wavers a bit, but stays strong, “I will make it back. I will.”

You inhale shakily, tears streaming down your face at this point. Leon presses fully into you. You can feel his clothed cock against your naked pussy. 

“I wanna make sure you don’t forget me, okay?” he whispers, grinding his hips against yours. 

You reciprocate, grinding back. He groans, reaching down and removing his pants and underwear. He climbs on top of you, gripping your wrists above your head. He lines his cock up with your folds, rubbing against them gently.

“This ok? Need to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he mumbles gently, kissing the side of your mouth.

“Yes, god I fucking love you, Leon,” you whisper.

He grins, a tear falling down his cheek. His cock pressed into you, and you leaned your head back. Leon kisses your jaw as he sets a gentle pace. He rocks back and forth, stretching you out wide. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

His thrusts become harder, needier. He kisses your neck and moans your name. You whimper, rutting upwards into him as well. He lets go of your wrists, instead pinning your hands at either side of your head. He interlocks your fingers.

“I love you, baby,” he moans. He shuts his eyes and slides into you faster. He pants, groaning as your lips meet his. He lets go of one hand and rubs gentle circles about your clit.

“Give me one more. Come on sweetheart, I know you can,” he smiles, speeding up his finger.

You cry out, “Fuck, Leon I-... Fucking- Love you! Fuck” Another orgasm washes over you. You clench and flutter your walls around him. He grits his teeth, slamming into you hard. He grunts, moaning your name over and over with a chorus of “Take it, Take it- Fuck” You feel his warmth spill inside of your pussy. 

Leon continues to thrust, slowing down gently as he returns from his high. He looks up at you gently, grinning as he comes to a stop.

“I’ll make it back to you.”

“I know you will.”

#resident evil #smut #leon kennedy x reader #angst #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #re4r leon #leon s kennedy #nsft #gn reader #afab reader

[goofyahhcats]

bro wtf yall ate this up

cooking up another leon fic as we speak

The Clouds Are Rolling In

Rating: E

Post!Re2R Leon S. Kennedy / Afab! gn! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, p in v action, mentions of past trauma, Gn reader, reader is Afab, pet names (Sweetheart, babe, baby), L-bombs

Summary: After saving each other during Raccoon City, you and Leon start a relationship. Things are good, but he seems to be a bit withdrawn since the incident. Usually, he's never home on weekdays. Tuesday night, you arrive home to a violent thunderstorm. Leon's bike is in the driveway.

Word Count: 2.7k

A03 Link Here

Pulling up your driveway, you were surprised yet happy to see Leon’s bike parked in his usual spot. 

Being an agent for the D.S.O. was not easy on him. He was hardly ever home, and when he was, he was usually too deep in the bottle for you to be of any help. He had only just begun his training, Raccoon City being nearly a whole year behind him now. His outward appearance suggested he had been hard at work for hundreds of years, however.

You had been a simple college student on that infamous day. You watched as your roommate turned, as your whole floor, friends, enemies, and teachers, chased after you. Their flesh rotting and hanging off their faces. You had sprinted through the city, trying anything in your power to just get away. You screamed as an 18-wheeler slammed into a police cruiser in front of you.

A man was violently thrown through the air by the force of the blast. You had checked for a pulse, determining he had only been knocked unconscious. You fought with yourself internally whether or not to just leave him there. Emotion won out, and you dragged his body into the RPD. There, you met with an officer named Marvin, who had helped you patch the man up. After he regained consciousness, the rest was history.

You had saved his life, and he had saved yours countless times in return. 

Since Leon was forced to join the DSO, you began to notice a different side to him. One that refused to talk about what he did at his job, who he worked with, or why he always came home drunk. He constantly felt the need to revolve everything around you.

How was work? Fine, how was yours?

What do you want for dinner? Anything you want.

You look so cute in that shirt! Yeah, but you’re cuter.

Initially, you took it as him just not wanting to talk about himself. But after the 30th conversation flip you started to worry. It was most common in the bedroom. He focused everything in his body on you. Refusing to bring himself near the edge at all before you had soaked the sheets at least 3 times. Once on his fingers, once on his mouth, and once on his cock. That was his rule. He ate you out like a man starved, ending with his cheeks shining and lips dripping. A slight smirk and a soft gaze always adorned his face. 

You shook your head to break out of your daze. You just got home, it was too late to be thinking these thoughts. The wetness gathering in your underwear said otherwise, but you decided to ignore the throbbing feeling and get out of the car. Rain immediately pelted against you, and you quickly slammed the door. Bolting to your front porch, you fumbled with your keys and brought them up towards the lock. 

You jolted and dropped the keys as a loud clap of thunder reverberated through your spine. Stooping to pick them up, you were practically blinded by a flash of lightning. You had half the mind to count the seconds between the flash when its accompanying boom of thunder followed immediately after. The storm was right above you. 

You wrenched the door open, fighting against the sudden gust of wind to slam the door closed before your entire house was soaked. 

The latter was quite small, located in the heart of the mountains. You and Leon had chosen this spot for its secluded natural feeling. It gave you somewhere to be alone, together. 

Today, however, the lights were off. You creaked over the floorboards as you made your way into the living room, flicking the light switch. No power.

You walked around the living room. A bright flash of lighting revealed your empty couch and loveseat.

No one was there. 

You were surprised, Leon usually made the living room his lounging spot of choice when he returned home.

You worked your way up the narrow and creaking staircase. Taking a few steps down the dark hallway, you heard something. Sniffling.

You quickly made your way across the hardwood and stopped in front of your shared bedroom door. The sniffling was louder. You pushed open the door, finding nothing but a sea of darkness. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see through the night. Just then a bright flash of lightning illuminated your bedroom. 

A figure lay on your side of the bed. Leon was wrapped in your blanket, only his head was poking out. His blonde hair was a mess over the many pillows that adorned your half. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth bared. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly, angling slightly upwards as if he were in pain. His palms were clasped tightly against the sides of his head. The veins on his biceps popped with the force he was putting on either side of himself. There was a wet spot on the pillow next to him. He had been crying.

You opened your mouth but were interrupted by the deafening roll of thunder following the flash. Leon jolted, burning his head deeper into your mattress. His fingers curled against his scalp, and he shoved his face between your pillows. 

“Leon,” you said, fumbling towards the side of the bed in the dark. He didn’t respond, didn’t even open his eyes as another flash engulfed the two of you. 

You gently placed your palm on his arm, and he jumped, eyes flying open.

“Leon, hey-” his arms were immediately around you. He tugged you towards him, holding you tightly. You tumbled next to him on the bed. His breathing was ragged, and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

You smoothed a hand over his back, murmuring gently in his ear.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I promise,” you wrap your arms around his sides, “Oh, baby.”

He pulls away only an inch and looks up at you with wet eyes.

“The storm. It- it was so… and… it- Fuck,” he suddenly grabbed the back of your hair tightly, pulling you into his chest again. He fisted at the back of your shirt, curling over you.

“Hey, slow down. Everything’s alright,” you soothed, gently rubbing circles in his back. The rain came down in sheets outside, pelting your windows.

He squeezed you tighter, nodding slightly, “I know-I know… Sweetheart.”

He took a shaky breath in. You felt his whole body convulse at the motion of it. 

“The storm… the storm- it was-” he broke off again as another flash lit up your room. You felt him jolt as the thunder rolled along with it.

“Hey… hey,” you pull your head from the crook of his neck and cup his face. Your hands soak in the invisible tears that dot his cheeks, “Slow down, hey… It's ok, just slow down.”

He drops his gaze, taking another deep breath, shuddering against you with the weight of it.

“The storm… it was just like back then.” his voice wavers on the last word, his hands finding purchase around your waist.

“I can’t- I can’t lose you,” voice cracking as he meets your gaze again, “What if- What if it happens again? What if the monsters come back, and I can’t save you this time-?”

“Because that won’t happen. Ever. I promise you,” Your eyes burned as you held his gaze. Your voice was steady, but you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t know that!”

“I promise you-”

“No!” His eyes flashed, “You can’t. Not with… Not with the things I’ve seen,” he swallowed heavily, “They’re still out there, sweetheart.” 

“What?” You felt frozen, your heart sinking into the rainy night. 

“They’re still out there. Just like back then. Just like in Raccoon City,” a shaky hand finds its way to the side of your face. He leans forward.

“What if it happens again?”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his. Hard. He immediately reciprocates, hands gripping your sides so hard they were bound to leave bruises. He moans into your mouth as you brush your tongue up against his lips. He lets you in, and you stroke away a small tear that had rolled down his cheek. 

Your tongues explore each other. You gently knead at his bicep, pressing lightly against his chest. He obeys, falling backward as you continue to kiss him. 

Your lips part, and Leon gasps out a small sob, “Baby. I need you right now. Please,” he practically whimpers as you press your lips to his neck. You suck a bruise and soothe the area with your tongue. You make your way down his neck, being rewarded with light gasps escaping his lips. 

You gently began to unbutton his shirt. Leon’s hands find yours, firmly. 

“Baby, let me-”

“No,” you look up at him, watching as he takes in another shaky breath, “Let me take care of you. Please.”

Leon looks up at you, hot breath fanning across your face. His eyes are illuminated by another bright flash and crack of thunder. He flinches. 

You gently press a hand against his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat, “Gonna make it all go away, okay?” your voice cracks as tears come to your eyes, “I promise. Gonna make sure nothing can ever hurt you again, alright?” you sniff heavily, biting down on your lip. A single tear drops onto the fabric of Leon’s shirt. 

Leon nods shakily, bringing you down to kiss him once again. You do everything feverishly, making quick work of his shirt, kissing down the expanse of his chest. You trace over every scar, every starburst bullet wound, every bruise, every freckle. His breath hitches when you gently bump against the front of his pants. A lightning flash illuminates the reasoning.

He is incredibly hard, The outline revealing itself to you as the lightning blitzes through the sky. Leon fists into the sheets, his eyes trained only on you. 

You gently trace along the length of it, your previous task left abandoned. He gasps, covering his mouth with one hand and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Uncover your mouth. Wanna hear you, Leon,” you whisper.

He obeys, slowly. His voice comes out in soft groans as you rub at him through his pants. You slowly pull them away along with his underwear. His cock bounces upwards, hitting his abdomen. A bead of precum leaks onto his stomach. He shivers at the feeling.

You slowly peel your clothes off as well, leaving the two of you fully naked. You gently begin to fist at Leon’s cock. He was painfully hard, evident by his loud breathing and grunting as you picked up the pace.

“Baby, please” he whispers slowly, “Need to be inside of you… Fuck.”

You shake your head gently, “Not yet.”

He groans at that, but that turns into a quiet moan as you return to stroking along his length. You smear against the head with your thumb, earning you a louder reaction than before. Your hand speeds up even more, and you feel him twitch against you.

“Fuck… Sweetheart, I’m-”

Without warning, he comes all over your hand. It paints across his abdomen as his whole body twitches. He breathes rapidly, groaning your name repeatedly. 

You reach up and gently smooth his hair out of his eyes, looking down at his hooded expression.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Sweetheart,” he mumbles, catching your lips gently.

“It’s alright,” you stroke his cheek gently. That’s one,” you whisper.

“One?” he replies groggily.

“One out of three,” another flash of lightning and thunder. Leon flinches again.

“Gonna make you cum once in my hand, once in my mouth, and once in my pussy,” you kiss the side of his mouth. “Is that ok?”

Leon looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him.

“Please baby”

You smile.

Your lips trail back down his abdomen, wasting no time in kissing along his dick. He’s already hard for you, you smile softly.

Cradling his cock in your hand you look up to meet his gaze, “Fuck. I’m so proud of you Leon,” his dick bows in your grasp, twitching and leaking generous amounts of precum. If he wasn’t already rock hard before he was now.

You gently lick up his cock from the base, earning you a, “Fuck,” and a, “Please, baby.”

You happily oblige, taking him into your mouth as far as you can go. He moans, hips rutting up against your mouth. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, and you choke around him. Pulling off of him with a pop, his precum, and your saliva connect you to him in a string. You catch your breath and return to him, this time with a firm palm on his hip. 

His moans and whimpers of your name become a mantra as you bob your head. A calloused hand wraps itself into your hair. The other gently strokes at your cheek, feeling himself move inside of your mouth.

“Fucking- damn it,” he curses, panting heavily.

You begin fist at the parts of his cock you can't quite reach, his grunts and groans going straight to your pussy. You dripped down your thighs, squeezing them together for any sort of friction. 

You feel him twitch in your mouth before he moans, stammering, “Fuck. Gonna come. Gonna come. Fuck- baby, let me… mmm… inside your mouth- please,” his hips stir once again, and your mouth is instantly flooded with him.

You swallow quickly, pulling off of him again. You open your mouth wide, showing him your work. He groans at the sight, placing an arm over his eyes, huffing and puffing into the night air.

You don’t let up, gently crawling up his body until you seat yourself on his stomach, dick rubbing against your asscheeks. You pull him down to you in a wet kiss. He tastes himself in your mouth and groans, roughly running his fingers down your body. You moan as his index finger prods at your clit. His other fingers swipe across your hole. He smiles against your lips at how wet you’ve become.

You grind down against his cock, pulling away from his lips and gasping. Another flash of lightning and thunder illuminate your slick bodies as you drop your hips down over his cock. He stretches you out beautifully. You let out a high-pitched whine as you begin to rock your hips. 

Leon mutters a combination of swears and moans, panting in time with your thrusts.

“God, fuck. Leon,” you moan, dropping your head to his shoulder.

Leon’s hand gropes your breast, the other resting on your hip. He begins to thrust his hips upward, while his hand tugs you back downward with more force. You cry out, kissing and nipping at his earlobe.

Thunder blasts through your eardrums and you feel the house shaking. You continue to ride Leon as if he were the only other thing in the world.

Leon flinches violently at the sound, hands flying back up to his ears. You gently pry them away, kissing at his cheek and lips.

“They can’t hurt you. They can’t hurt me. You’re safe Leon,” you whisper gently, pussy slapping down along his cock. He twitches inside of you. 

You continue to whisper into his ear, grinding your hips down after every thrust. His hips meet yours with each stroke, and his moans and pants increase in volume.

“Sweetheart…” he throws his head back, rocking up into you with more vigor, “Shit… Gonna marry you, yeah? Gonna give you a nice fucking house. Make you some fucking kids. Would you like that? Fuck. I love you.”

You whimper in response, gripping his biceps for support, “I’d love that. I love you,” you rock faster and faster. Leon’s calloused thumb reaches down to press against your clit.

“Yeah? Fuck, I’m gonna marry you. Gonna marry you right now. Fuck,” his voice cracks. He presses your mouth to his. You feel his cock twitch and bow against you. Tears fall down his cheeks, your own tears falling to mix with his.

Lightning engulfs your room, and you break away to take him in. His blue eyes bore into yours when you come. Your legs shake and you throw your head back with a cry of his name. He’s not long behind you, cum spurting into you in hot waves. 

Thunder rumbles. 

Leon doesn’t flinch.

#nsft #smut #leon kennedy x reader #reblog

[goofyahhcats]

errmmm could you do some headcanons for wesker with a really shy s/o? like, blushing a lot when talking to him and stuff.... and getting so nervous around him from the smallest things like his voice and his height... :3 hes so fine.. what the scallop....

HELLO A BELOVED ANON HERE TO DELIVER MY FIRST REQUEST AAAAH

And YES, god, he's so fine. Like that would literally be me if I saw him.

Giving you a fluff section and a smut section, can't get enough of this mf

Wesker with a shy s/o

Rating: E

word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Afab! Gn! reader, fluff and smut

Re5 Wesker takes it in stride. He chides you for it each time. Flipping between calling you, “Pathetic. All embarrassed and blushing, just for me?” and “Aren’t you adorable? The red suits your face, my dear”

Basically the mf is a wombo combo of praise and degradation

S.T.A.R.S. Era Wesker sees this all the time. 

I mean, he struts his shit through the RPD every day, he’s gonna catch a few eyes. 

He would probably appear unbothered about it on the outside. But internally he's puffing his chest out, smirking, doing a little chuckle, the works.

The closer you get to him, the less he tries to hide his stupid little remarks.

He only voices his praise when you deserve it, staying in the same lane as re5 does.

You take slow steps towards the STARS Office. As a receptionist, filing papers was one of your many grueling jobs. It only became bearable when STARS returned from missions. Mission reports required you to read all of the juicy details as you filled out the necessary paperwork for them.

Normal protocol asked you to simply drop the papers off in the STARS mailbox, right next to the front door of their office. Which you had done dutifully every time. In this particular instance, however, Chief Irons had demanded that you bring the papers directly to the Captain himself. 

“That stoic asshole needs to be more careful!” Irons’ pink face shook, “Does he know how much money he cost me? Of course not! I need him to actually read the mission reports for once!” he slammed his hands down on his desk.

“I’m sorry sir, what can I do to help-?”

“Go! What are you waiting for? Bring it right to his desk! Throw them at him if that's what it takes! Christ!” A large vein popped out of his forehead. You nodded quickly, making your way out of his office as fast as you could

This led you to where you are now. You usually weren’t incredibly shy, but god. Captain Wesker tended to make you go bright red. You could never get a full sentence out without tripping over your words.

You slowly opened the door to the STARS Office. You were met with many friendly faces, many of whom smiled and waved at you. You returned the gestures, glancing to your left at your objective. 

The sign on his door read “CPT A, WESKER”. You swallowed heavily, taking a few steps up towards his door.

Raising your fist, you knocked twice before you heard a low, “Come in,” echo from inside.

You open the door, step in, and shut it behind you. Wesker looked up at you from his desk. His iconic sunglasses were clipped into the front of his shirt. His cold blue eyes scanned your form as you presented yourself.

“Do you need something?” his low voice reached your ears, jolting you out of your daze. You started to shake your head but then remembered why you were there and nodded. You held out the papers in your hand nervously.

“Y-yes sir. I have the mission reports for you… um- Irons’ orders. Sir,” you stammered over your words, cursing yourself internally. 

“Hm. Indeed you do,” Wesker hummed, looking up at you from his chair. He swiveled to the side and rose to his full height, towering over you. He took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out. 

You felt frozen in place, staring up at him. Wesker tilted his head slightly, “Hand me the reports. Or are you going to continue staring at me all day?”

You felt your face heat up. You quickly handed them to him, clumsily brushing your fingers against his as he accepted the papers. You nodded up at him apologetically, cheeks still fire engine red, “Sorry sir, I-”

“No need,” his voice was deep, the slight accent making you melt, “Good work, thank you,” he stated.

His praise vibrated through your whole body. You felt your stomach twist in pleasure at the ghost of a smile you could see on his lips. You stood there for what felt like a century, rooted to the spot. Wesker gestured at the door, “Go on now,” you nodded, stuttering out a, “Yes sir…” before making a beeline for his office door.

“Next time,” Wesker’s voice stopped you mid-step, “Tell Irons I’ll gladly have you deliver me the reports. I expect you to return tomorrow to deliver the mission debriefings. Personally.”

Your cheeks felt like they had caught on fire, “Y-yes sir,” you squeaked, nodding at him.

“Good,” he returned the nod, “You’re dismissed.”

You scrambled out of his office, bumping into the wall as you made your way into the hallway. You had to pause and take a moment to calm your blazing cheeks outside in the courtyard. Sighing to yourself

Back in his office, Wesker smirked, settling back down into his chair.

“Cute,” he chuckled.

Smut-wise, again, praise and degradation 

Re5 Wesker the type of guy to strip you naked, and just admire you, while watching you squirm and blush

You stood, completely naked in front of Wesker. He sat back, fully clothed, just staring. Your entire body felt like it was on fire. 

“My, you truly are a sight to see,” Wesker continues to stare, taking in every fold of skin, every freckle, and every scar you have to offer him.

Nervous and embarrassed, you attempt to cover yourself, placing an arm here and a hand there, but a “Tsk,” from Wesker, makes you freeze.

“W- Wesker…” you stammer, looking up at him.

“Mmm?” he smirked, the tent in his pants obvious.

“Please, I- I need you,” 

Wesker chuckles, “Oh, how adorable you are. Since you asked so nicely, I can’t help but oblige, can I?” he stands, gently guiding you towards him. You slowly pull down the zipper on his pants, looking up at him with red cheeks. 

You pull his cock out, evidently hard and leaking precum onto your palm. You stroke him once, and he grins, “Pathetic, not even going to ask me for permission? You’ve gotten ahead of yourself, my dear.”

You trip over your words, mumbling a half-apology, pleading with him to let you touch him.

“Wesker, please. I promise I- I won’t do it again, I-” You’re cut off as Wesker shoves his cock in your mouth. You moan around him, licking at the underside as you begin to bob your head.

Wesker lets out a satisfied sigh, “I can’t stay mad at you, dear. Not with this stellar performance,” his hand cards through your hair gently.

Wetness gushes out of you at his comment, and you whimper around him. Taking him deeper until you're at the hilt, throat convulsing around him. Wesker lets out a quiet groan and chuckle, tugging your hair back and off of his cock. A strand of saliva connects you to him. He smirks, taking in the view of your blown-out pupils and blushing face. 

“I guess I’ll have to reward you, hmm? Would you like that?”

“Y-Yes, please,” you whisper, swooning up at him. He chuckles.

“So eager you are. Climb up onto the bed,” he purrs. You do as he says, climbing up and lying as he instructed.

You definitely weren’t going to be getting any sleep that night. Not with him.

#resident evil #albert wesker #wesker x reader #smut #albert wesker x reader #mini kitties #litterbox

[goofyahhcats]

THAT FUCKIN NOTE ON AO3 “men am i right” BRO HAD ME IN TEARS

BAHAHAHA

Just giving leon a taste of his own medicine fr, if the fic had been the other way around (like I had planned), he probably would've said something stupid like

"Women"

LIKE SIR IM SOBBING INTO YOUR ARMS PLEEEASE

#anon ask #litterbox

[goofyahhcats]

The Clouds Are Rolling In

Rating: E

Post!Re2R Leon S. Kennedy / Afab! gn! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, p in v action, mentions of past trauma, Gn reader, reader is Afab, pet names (Sweetheart, babe, baby), L-bombs

Summary: After saving each other during Raccoon City, you and Leon start a relationship. Things are good, but he seems to be a bit withdrawn since the incident. Usually, he's never home on weekdays. Tuesday night, you arrive home to a violent thunderstorm. Leon's bike is in the driveway.

Word Count: 2.7k

A03 Link Here

Pulling up your driveway, you were surprised yet happy to see Leon’s bike parked in his usual spot. 

Being an agent for the D.S.O. was not easy on him. He was hardly ever home, and when he was, he was usually too deep in the bottle for you to be of any help. He had only just begun his training, Raccoon City being nearly a whole year behind him now. His outward appearance suggested he had been hard at work for hundreds of years, however.

You had been a simple college student on that infamous day. You watched as your roommate turned, as your whole floor, friends, enemies, and teachers, chased after you. Their flesh rotting and hanging off their faces. You had sprinted through the city, trying anything in your power to just get away. You screamed as an 18-wheeler slammed into a police cruiser in front of you.

A man was violently thrown through the air by the force of the blast. You had checked for a pulse, determining he had only been knocked unconscious. You fought with yourself internally whether or not to just leave him there. Emotion won out, and you dragged his body into the RPD. There, you met with an officer named Marvin, who had helped you patch the man up. After he regained consciousness, the rest was history.

You had saved his life, and he had saved yours countless times in return. 

Since Leon was forced to join the DSO, you began to notice a different side to him. One that refused to talk about what he did at his job, who he worked with, or why he always came home drunk. He constantly felt the need to revolve everything around you.

How was work? Fine, how was yours?

What do you want for dinner? Anything you want.

You look so cute in that shirt! Yeah, but you’re cuter.

Initially, you took it as him just not wanting to talk about himself. But after the 30th conversation flip you started to worry. It was most common in the bedroom. He focused everything in his body on you. Refusing to bring himself near the edge at all before you had soaked the sheets at least 3 times. Once on his fingers, once on his mouth, and once on his cock. That was his rule. He ate you out like a man starved, ending with his cheeks shining and lips dripping. A slight smirk and a soft gaze always adorned his face. 

You shook your head to break out of your daze. You just got home, it was too late to be thinking these thoughts. The wetness gathering in your underwear said otherwise, but you decided to ignore the throbbing feeling and get out of the car. Rain immediately pelted against you, and you quickly slammed the door. Bolting to your front porch, you fumbled with your keys and brought them up towards the lock. 

You jolted and dropped the keys as a loud clap of thunder reverberated through your spine. Stooping to pick them up, you were practically blinded by a flash of lightning. You had half the mind to count the seconds between the flash when its accompanying boom of thunder followed immediately after. The storm was right above you. 

You wrenched the door open, fighting against the sudden gust of wind to slam the door closed before your entire house was soaked. 

The latter was quite small, located in the heart of the mountains. You and Leon had chosen this spot for its secluded natural feeling. It gave you somewhere to be alone, together. 

Today, however, the lights were off. You creaked over the floorboards as you made your way into the living room, flicking the light switch. No power.

You walked around the living room. A bright flash of lighting revealed your empty couch and loveseat.

No one was there. 

You were surprised, Leon usually made the living room his lounging spot of choice when he returned home.

You worked your way up the narrow and creaking staircase. Taking a few steps down the dark hallway, you heard something. Sniffling.

You quickly made your way across the hardwood and stopped in front of your shared bedroom door. The sniffling was louder. You pushed open the door, finding nothing but a sea of darkness. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see through the night. Just then a bright flash of lightning illuminated your bedroom. 

A figure lay on your side of the bed. Leon was wrapped in your blanket, only his head was poking out. His blonde hair was a mess over the many pillows that adorned your half. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth bared. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly, angling slightly upwards as if he were in pain. His palms were clasped tightly against the sides of his head. The veins on his biceps popped with the force he was putting on either side of himself. There was a wet spot on the pillow next to him. He had been crying.

You opened your mouth but were interrupted by the deafening roll of thunder following the flash. Leon jolted, burning his head deeper into your mattress. His fingers curled against his scalp, and he shoved his face between your pillows. 

“Leon,” you said, fumbling towards the side of the bed in the dark. He didn’t respond, didn’t even open his eyes as another flash engulfed the two of you. 

You gently placed your palm on his arm, and he jumped, eyes flying open.

“Leon, hey-” his arms were immediately around you. He tugged you towards him, holding you tightly. You tumbled next to him on the bed. His breathing was ragged, and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

You smoothed a hand over his back, murmuring gently in his ear.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I promise,” you wrap your arms around his sides, “Oh, baby.”

He pulls away only an inch and looks up at you with wet eyes.

“The storm. It- it was so… and… it- Fuck,” he suddenly grabbed the back of your hair tightly, pulling you into his chest again. He fisted at the back of your shirt, curling over you.

“Hey, slow down. Everything’s alright,” you soothed, gently rubbing circles in his back. The rain came down in sheets outside, pelting your windows.

He squeezed you tighter, nodding slightly, “I know-I know… Sweetheart.”

He took a shaky breath in. You felt his whole body convulse at the motion of it. 

“The storm… the storm- it was-” he broke off again as another flash lit up your room. You felt him jolt as the thunder rolled along with it.

“Hey… hey,” you pull your head from the crook of his neck and cup his face. Your hands soak in the invisible tears that dot his cheeks, “Slow down, hey… It's ok, just slow down.”

He drops his gaze, taking another deep breath, shuddering against you with the weight of it.

“The storm… it was just like back then.” his voice wavers on the last word, his hands finding purchase around your waist.

“I can’t- I can’t lose you,” voice cracking as he meets your gaze again, “What if- What if it happens again? What if the monsters come back, and I can’t save you this time-?”

“Because that won’t happen. Ever. I promise you,” Your eyes burned as you held his gaze. Your voice was steady, but you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t know that!”

“I promise you-”

“No!” His eyes flashed, “You can’t. Not with… Not with the things I’ve seen,” he swallowed heavily, “They’re still out there, sweetheart.” 

“What?” You felt frozen, your heart sinking into the rainy night. 

“They’re still out there. Just like back then. Just like in Raccoon City,” a shaky hand finds its way to the side of your face. He leans forward.

“What if it happens again?”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his. Hard. He immediately reciprocates, hands gripping your sides so hard they were bound to leave bruises. He moans into your mouth as you brush your tongue up against his lips. He lets you in, and you stroke away a small tear that had rolled down his cheek. 

Your tongues explore each other. You gently knead at his bicep, pressing lightly against his chest. He obeys, falling backward as you continue to kiss him. 

Your lips part, and Leon gasps out a small sob, “Baby. I need you right now. Please,” he practically whimpers as you press your lips to his neck. You suck a bruise and soothe the area with your tongue. You make your way down his neck, being rewarded with light gasps escaping his lips. 

You gently began to unbutton his shirt. Leon’s hands find yours, firmly. 

“Baby, let me-”

“No,” you look up at him, watching as he takes in another shaky breath, “Let me take care of you. Please.”

Leon looks up at you, hot breath fanning across your face. His eyes are illuminated by another bright flash and crack of thunder. He flinches. 

You gently press a hand against his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat, “Gonna make it all go away, okay?” your voice cracks as tears come to your eyes, “I promise. Gonna make sure nothing can ever hurt you again, alright?” you sniff heavily, biting down on your lip. A single tear drops onto the fabric of Leon’s shirt. 

Leon nods shakily, bringing you down to kiss him once again. You do everything feverishly, making quick work of his shirt, kissing down the expanse of his chest. You trace over every scar, every starburst bullet wound, every bruise, every freckle. His breath hitches when you gently bump against the front of his pants. A lightning flash illuminates the reasoning.

He is incredibly hard, The outline revealing itself to you as the lightning blitzes through the sky. Leon fists into the sheets, his eyes trained only on you. 

You gently trace along the length of it, your previous task left abandoned. He gasps, covering his mouth with one hand and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Uncover your mouth. Wanna hear you, Leon,” you whisper.

He obeys, slowly. His voice comes out in soft groans as you rub at him through his pants. You slowly pull them away along with his underwear. His cock bounces upwards, hitting his abdomen. A bead of precum leaks onto his stomach. He shivers at the feeling.

You slowly peel your clothes off as well, leaving the two of you fully naked. You gently begin to fist at Leon’s cock. He was painfully hard, evident by his loud breathing and grunting as you picked up the pace.

“Baby, please” he whispers slowly, “Need to be inside of you… Fuck.”

You shake your head gently, “Not yet.”

He groans at that, but that turns into a quiet moan as you return to stroking along his length. You smear against the head with your thumb, earning you a louder reaction than before. Your hand speeds up even more, and you feel him twitch against you.

“Fuck… Sweetheart, I’m-”

Without warning, he comes all over your hand. It paints across his abdomen as his whole body twitches. He breathes rapidly, groaning your name repeatedly. 

You reach up and gently smooth his hair out of his eyes, looking down at his hooded expression.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Sweetheart,” he mumbles, catching your lips gently.

“It’s alright,” you stroke his cheek gently. That’s one,” you whisper.

“One?” he replies groggily.

“One out of three,” another flash of lightning and thunder. Leon flinches again.

“Gonna make you cum once in my hand, once in my mouth, and once in my pussy,” you kiss the side of his mouth. “Is that ok?”

Leon looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him.

“Please baby”

You smile.

Your lips trail back down his abdomen, wasting no time in kissing along his dick. He’s already hard for you, you smile softly.

Cradling his cock in your hand you look up to meet his gaze, “Fuck. I’m so proud of you Leon,” his dick bows in your grasp, twitching and leaking generous amounts of precum. If he wasn’t already rock hard before he was now.

You gently lick up his cock from the base, earning you a, “Fuck,” and a, “Please, baby.”

You happily oblige, taking him into your mouth as far as you can go. He moans, hips rutting up against your mouth. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, and you choke around him. Pulling off of him with a pop, his precum, and your saliva connect you to him in a string. You catch your breath and return to him, this time with a firm palm on his hip. 

His moans and whimpers of your name become a mantra as you bob your head. A calloused hand wraps itself into your hair. The other gently strokes at your cheek, feeling himself move inside of your mouth.

“Fucking- damn it,” he curses, panting heavily.

You begin fist at the parts of his cock you can't quite reach, his grunts and groans going straight to your pussy. You dripped down your thighs, squeezing them together for any sort of friction. 

You feel him twitch in your mouth before he moans, stammering, “Fuck. Gonna come. Gonna come. Fuck- baby, let me… mmm… inside your mouth- please,” his hips stir once again, and your mouth is instantly flooded with him.

You swallow quickly, pulling off of him again. You open your mouth wide, showing him your work. He groans at the sight, placing an arm over his eyes, huffing and puffing into the night air.

You don’t let up, gently crawling up his body until you seat yourself on his stomach, dick rubbing against your asscheeks. You pull him down to you in a wet kiss. He tastes himself in your mouth and groans, roughly running his fingers down your body. You moan as his index finger prods at your clit. His other fingers swipe across your hole. He smiles against your lips at how wet you’ve become.

You grind down against his cock, pulling away from his lips and gasping. Another flash of lightning and thunder illuminate your slick bodies as you drop your hips down over his cock. He stretches you out beautifully. You let out a high-pitched whine as you begin to rock your hips. 

Leon mutters a combination of swears and moans, panting in time with your thrusts.

“God, fuck. Leon,” you moan, dropping your head to his shoulder.

Leon’s hand gropes your breast, the other resting on your hip. He begins to thrust his hips upward, while his hand tugs you back downward with more force. You cry out, kissing and nipping at his earlobe.

Thunder blasts through your eardrums and you feel the house shaking. You continue to ride Leon as if he were the only other thing in the world.

Leon flinches violently at the sound, hands flying back up to his ears. You gently pry them away, kissing at his cheek and lips.

“They can’t hurt you. They can’t hurt me. You’re safe Leon,” you whisper gently, pussy slapping down along his cock. He twitches inside of you. 

You continue to whisper into his ear, grinding your hips down after every thrust. His hips meet yours with each stroke, and his moans and pants increase in volume.

“Sweetheart…” he throws his head back, rocking up into you with more vigor, “Shit… Gonna marry you, yeah? Gonna give you a nice fucking house. Make you some fucking kids. Would you like that? Fuck. I love you.”

You whimper in response, gripping his biceps for support, “I’d love that. I love you,” you rock faster and faster. Leon’s calloused thumb reaches down to press against your clit.

“Yeah? Fuck, I’m gonna marry you. Gonna marry you right now. Fuck,” his voice cracks. He presses your mouth to his. You feel his cock twitch and bow against you. Tears fall down his cheeks, your own tears falling to mix with his.

Lightning engulfs your room, and you break away to take him in. His blue eyes bore into yours when you come. Your legs shake and you throw your head back with a cry of his name. He’s not long behind you, cum spurting into you in hot waves. 

Thunder rumbles. 

Leon doesn’t flinch.

#re2 leon #nsft #smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #afab reader #gn reader #hes so silly

[goofyahhcats]

honey, come over part ii

part i

rating: E STARS!Chris/STARS!Reader/Rookie!Leon 18+ warnings: AFAB GN!Reader, fingering, p in v sex, oral (m and reader receiving), threesome, anal fingering, anal sex, facial, come swallowing, handjobs, come shot, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, double penetration, slight angst, happy ending, no gendered terms, no use of y/n word count 6k summary: After introducing Leon to yours and Chris' dynamic, things get complicated. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49661005/chapters/126133111

True to your word, you stayed the night.

You were quiet as you fucked each other in the bedroom, Leon asleep on the couch, and your throats both full of barbed wire. Chris, wanting to speak. You, not so much. Early in the morning, you slipped out before either of them had time to catch you.

The next time you had to report in to the station, you laid in your bed too long, wondering if you should even bother going. You had vacation days stacking up. It wouldn’t mean any trouble for you to call at the last minute. The thought made you stand up, wander to your kitchen. You lifted the telephone out of its cradle, and your finger hovered over the buttons, fully intending to lie about some family drama that was going to keep you home.

Well, not entirely a lie.

That gave you panic, and you slammed the receiver down, too loud, too rough. You hurried back to your bedroom and cranked the shower on. The shitty pipes in your apartment squealed as the hot water slowly burned to life. You stripped down and stepped in, letting it sting across your skin as your mind spun. You scrubbed at yourself; it was like you were trying to reset back to before everything went awry.

If you could claw off the memories, brush off the feeling of their hands and tongues, then you would be better for it. If you could forget the doe-eyed way they both looked at you, sky and earth, pressing together to create a firmament that you floated in, you’d never think of them as the angels they were again.

Be not afraid, some part of you begged, the words a lingering memory from a childhood sometimes you’d rather forget.

Heat from something other than the shower tingled along your skin. You tamped it down, stomping on the embers, and you growled out a sound of frustration. You finished washing yourself, and you turned off the water, the rusted knob fighting you the whole way.

The drive to the station was slow, hindered by the rain and the traffic. Despite thunderstorms being a common occurrence in Raccoon City, it seemed like no one understood how to drive in them. Your frustration boiled, and, by the time you were stomping into the building, you were certain smoke was billowing from your ears.

Until you spotted Leon.

He was peeking out of the west office doorway, head swinging back and forth on a swivel. When he spotted you, the worry that dug lines into his face melted away. He waved you over, and, smitten, your feet carried you of their own volition over to him.

“I was worried,” Leon piped, stepping down the stairs. He found a mug already filled with coffee and cream and tented his fingers over the top, gripping around the lip of the mug in a precarious way. You scooped it up quickly to avoid a spill. “It’s probably cold by now.”

“You made this for me?” you asked quietly, taking a sip. It was ice cold. You curled your lip in a grimace. Leon looked apologetic, nervous.

“Well, yeah.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Leon’s brow furrowed. You shifted on your feet. A string of tension pulled between you, but you snipped it. Your spine collapsed beneath the weight of your own stupidity, and you sighed. “Sorry–I’m being an asshole.”

“Is it about…?” Leon gestured between you, then he looked up as though to indicate the S.T.A.R.S. office.

“A little.”

Leon bit down on his lip.

“Not with you.” You laid a reassuring hand on his arm; Leon’s face didn’t change. “I don’t know if that makes it better.”

“It…” Leon exhaled, turning toward his own mug half-full by the coffee pot. “I guess I don’t know either.” He picked it up, teeth clicking over the edge in a nervous gesture. Your gaze softened as you looked over his sharp features. Strong nose, stronger jaw–he was so cute. The barbed wire that ensnared you and Chris had caught Leon, too, and you hated it.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” you asked him, soft as Elliot stomped down the stairs. He glanced between you and the rookie, and you lowered your voice even further. “Just you and me.”

“What about Chris?”

“I don’t answer to Chris.” And it was true. You didn’t. Though the guilt that beat against your ribs was unmistakable. Leon twisted his mouth when he heard the whip crack of defensiveness in your voice. You laid down your mug, half-empty, and you furrowed your brow. “It would mean a lot to me.”

A smile ghosted over Leon’s pretty full lips. “Okay.”

Guilt again. You wondered what temperature hell was.

“I should get upstairs.”

“Yes, you goddamn should.”

Lieutenant Branagh was hovering above you, palms braced on the railing of the stairs, and you flinched. You dragged yourself away from Leon, and Marvin caught you by the elbow.

“Don’t let me find you in my squadroom wasting my unit’s time again, S.T.A.R.S.,” he growled. “I’ll go over Wesker’s head this time. Am I understood?” Your face hovered close to the lieutenant’s. Your nostrils flared, a spark in your eyes, but you decided not to make your life more miserable.

“Yes, sir.”

Marvin released your elbow, seemingly satisfied. “Get out.”

You slunk away from the office, and you climbed the stairs to the S.T.A.R.S. office. When you got there, you slumped into your desk. Your gaze flicked over to Chris’. It was still empty. He was even later than you were. Your hands settled on your thighs, and you frowned when you felt something in your pocket.

You fished it out and found the polaroid you’d taken this past weekend of Chris and Leon. You’d stuffed it in these jeans when you’d left Chris’ apartment. Sans any clean clothes, you had ended up back in these for your shift. Hastily, you stuffed the picture into your desk, burying it beneath your files. The drawer slammed shut, shaking everything. Head in your hands, you wondered what the consequences would be if you quietly took a smoke break and didn’t come back.

Not bad enough to deter you. You bummed a cigarette from Barry and started toward the fire escape. On your way, Chris’ chest slammed into yours, knocking the cigarette from its loose hold between your lips and getting crushed underfoot. Today was starting to get on your last nerves.

“Sorry,” Chris mumbled. “You need another?”

“No. It’s fine.” But Chris was already fishing out a carton of Marlboros. You gritted your teeth as he passed one to you; your fingers touched gently, and a shiver laced with arousal darted up your spine. A betrayal from your body as your clit jumped to attention with the way Chris looked at you. You wanted to scream.

“Let me drop my stuff off, and I’ll come with you.”

“The captain will love that,” you muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. It pulled a grin to Chris’ face, and you found yourself smiling back despite it all.

“He’ll be fine.”

Chris’ eyes lidded as he looked at you. Too gentle. He knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t protest him again. You bobbed your head, pretending to consider it as though your mind wasn’t already made up. Finally, you jerked your chin toward the office. “I’ll wait for you.”

Chris grinned, disgustingly pleased, and he jogged off to put his things away. You could hear Wesker bitching as Chris promised overtime to make up for his tardiness. A lie. But now that he’d opened the door, Wesker would surely force it on him. He sidled up next to you, and the two of you pushed out onto the fire escape.

Chris produced his lighter, engraved with the S.T.A.R.S. logo: a gift from Wesker. He flicked it open and coaxed the flame to life with a quick snap to the spark wheel. He raised it to your face, and you inhaled. Ignited, smoke flooded your lungs. The nicotine rush helped soothe your frayed nerves.

Chris lit his own, and you stood, pushed together tightly on the small platform. Thunder rumbled weakly near the mountains.

“I want to talk to you.” Chris’ voice was low, pleading.

“I know.” But you still didn’t.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Chris breathed. The cigarette smoke coiled off his tongue with his words and wafted toward you. It felt like an acid burn. “We had a good thing going.”

“I know.”

Chris grew frustrated. His voice pitched up after another long, desperate drag. “So why are we fucking it up?”

“You’re fucking it up,” you shot back. “With your stupid fucking hickeys, and making me promise to stay the night, and that goddamn polaroid in your desk–”

“You went through my desk?” Chris looked incredulous and embarrassed in tandem.

“It’s not important,” you waved him away with the hand that still clutched your cigarette. “The point is, we agreed. We would fuck each other and that was it. There wasn’t supposed to be more.”

“But there is now,” Chris rasped, voice hoarse with emotions coursing up the railways of his veins. He threw his cigarette across the railing and cupped your face in his hands. “There is now. And I don’t want to ignore that.” You tilted your face unconsciously into his touch. Chris’ brows pinched together. “Honey–” The name made a lump catch in your throat.” “–let me come over tonight. We’ll figure this out.”

“I have plans,” you whispered.

A beat. “With Leon?”

You didn’t answer.

Chris drew his hands away from you. His lips pressed together. Obvious hurt flashed over his face. He sighed. “Okay.”

He walked away. The door to the building swung shut with a heavy clunk. Your cigarette burned your fingertips.

That night, you buried yourself in the solace of Leon Kennedy. The moment he was inside, you were dragging him into your bedroom and tossing him onto the mattress. Clothes shed, tongues tangling, you trapped him beneath you, and your mouth made its way down the lines in his belly.

Leon was perfect, you decided as you licked a stripe up his cock. Where you could lie back, let Chris do anything he wanted, Leon was the opposite. Always so pliable, so needy. It filled something missing in your chest, and you tried not to focus too hard on the way he said your name.

One palm curled around the base of his cock. You nuzzled your face into his shaft, breathing in the heavy scent of a long day’s work. Sweat and musk and faded cologne. No cigarette smoke. So unlike Chris in that way, too.

“You know,” you murmured. “You have a really pretty dick.” It bowed up at your praise. Your tongue slipped over the soft pink ridge near the head, and Leon moaned.

“Thanks.” Leon was sheepish, unsure of how to respond. Something spilled from his throat, “It’s prettier with you on it.” A blush rushed to his cheeks. You giggled, rolling your eyes, and you kissed the top, letting the bead of pre-come on his slit coat your lips before you licked them.

“You’re cute.”

“Ah–fuck,” Leon hissed as you sucked his cock into the heat of your mouth. You were rushing, scrambling for a reward of some kind. Perhaps if you were selfless, fixated on only making Leon come as quick and as hard and as many times as possible, then you would be better. Then you would stop inserting Chris into every other thought.

Leon dug his fingers into your scalp. His fingers flexed slowly, not want to push down but clearly needing more. You were happy to oblige, bobbing your head until his dick jammed into the back of your throat. It gagged you, forcing spit to rain from your lips and onto Leon’s pelvis. It dampened the wiry blonde hair, turning it dark, and Leon moaned; his hips rutted up into your hollowed cheeks, and his back arched.

“God, you’re so good at this.” It was reverential. He sounded just as amazed as he had the other night. Your free hand slid along one thigh, up over the ‘v’ of his hip until you pinched a nipple between your fingertips. Leon’s hand flew up to cover yours, and he forced your fingers to squeeze harder. He even guided you away, making you tug, and Leon moaned. His dick twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Like that.”

A hum bubbled in your throat; your eyes fluttered as you stared up at him. Leon met your gaze with hazy irises. The hand on the back of your head snaked around to your cheek. His thumb pushed past the corner of your mouth so he could rub at his cock as you sucked it.

“Can I come on your face? Please?” Leon asked, voice dipping lower.

You nodded and pulled your mouth off of his dick. Your hand, covered in saliva, pumped over the length of him with firm, steady strokes. Leon rocked his hips into your touch, and you groaned when you felt him stiffen further.

“Ah–ah, almost–shit.”

Leon made you tug his nipple again, and it sent him into a spiral. Come splurted in ropes across your lips, your nose. One eye squeezed shut in what you thought was the nick of time. But then the burn started, and you hissed, leaning away.

“Oh, fuck, did I–?” Leon sat up slowly, and he watched as the hand not dripping come flew to cover your eye.

“Yeah. Fuck. Will you get–”

“Sure.”

The bed dipped as Leon slid off the mattress. He raced into your bathroom, and you heard him turn on the water. He returned with a rag, crawling forward, and you moved to take it from him.

“Let me,” he whispered. He gripped your wrist and removed your palm away from the offended eye. With a finger creating a tent in the washcloth, he swiped slowly, gingerly, at the corner of your eye; you squinted on instinct. His other hand settled on your forehead, thumb tugging your eyelid open. “Look up for me.”

Your eye rolled up. Leon hovered above you, and you locked onto his face. He was concentrating, tongue poking out slightly. The irritation of the cloth was a welcome distraction from the way your eye had been stinging previously, but what really distracted you was how pretty Leon looked. He caught your gaze, and he smiled.

“Better?”

Your heart thundered. Oh, shit.

“Yeah.” You blinked away the fuzzy afterimages until Leon was back at the forefront of your vision. He cleaned off the rest of your face. Tender. Considerate.“Yeah, a lot.”

“Good. Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” It tripped past your lips, too earnest for you to just be talking about your failed facial. You leaned forward, hands rushing up to catch his face, and you slammed a kiss into his lips. He toppled backwards; the cloth dropped onto the floor. Your eye still stung, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

You were slick between the hips, and it took no effort at all to guide his cock into your cunt. Leon cried out at the feeling of you clamping down over him. The sheets fanned out under him, a white knuckle grip fisting them, and his hair draped in a halo around his face.

Be not afraid.

The thought came to you just as he did. Filling you, marking you, you thought of Chris, and you dropped your forehead down to Leon’s shoulder while you rode his cock as it twitched. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, aggravating your already aching eye, and you clawed at the pillow beneath you. Leon wrapped his arms around your waist, urging you to keep going, even though you could hear the strain of too-much in shaking his words. You should have had mercy on him, stopped the overstimulation.

But you didn’t.

You kept rocking, digging yourself deeper. You wanted to crawl into him, crack his ribs apart and settle by the rock-steady beat of his heart. You needed to feel him, to call his name, to breathe out Chris–

Leon. You meant Leon.

Hips bucking faster, you realized with panic, that the two of them were tangling together in your mind. Whatever you felt for Chris, and kept vehemently denying, you saw mirrored so violently in your feelings for Leon. They were one, the same, two men clutching tight to each half of your heart and tearing it asunder.

Heat coiled in your gut, and you lost your thoughts to pleasure.

Leon kissed tenderly along your neck, and you called his name when you chased him over the edge. Leon was quick, and the orgasm that made your cunt ripple brought him to another peak. He gritted his teeth and whined something pathetic when he came. You held him tight to you while you both sank into an unknown.

Leon dragged soft fingertips down your spine. Not calloused, not worn from triggers–still gentle, still hopeful. A fresh-made angel, still learning how to beat his wings against the inevitably darkness. It would take him one day, just as it had taken you.

But then Leon whispered your name, kissed your earlobe, and you thought maybe he might be different.

You twisted in his hold to touch your lips to his. It was overwhelming, and those tears that formed earlier finally fell. You hiccuped into his mouth, and Leon just squeezed you tighter and tighter, and he rocked his hips, and you let him put you on your back, and–

The night felt endless. You hardly pulled away from each other. The final straw was when Leon nearly fell asleep with his mouth flush to your cunt. You dragged him up to you, kissing sloppy and wet, stained with each other’s arousal, and you weren’t sure what he was to you, but you knew he wasn’t going anywhere. A fixture, now, Leon Kennedy was a part of your mess.

Whatever that meant.

The next morning, Chris wouldn’t look at you. His eyes stayed firm on his reports, on the computer screen that lagged from all his open programs. He hit the monitor more than once: a sign of his frustration with something other than technology.

In his anger, later that day, Chris caged you in the library. There weren’t any words spoken, but you had to admit, seeing him wound so tight had made your cunt throb. You dropped to your knees in a far-dark corner, and Chris fished his cock out. His palms grabbed your face, and he rutted into your mouth. Your tongue lapped at him in earnest, and Chris clearly had something to say.

“You’re making me miserable,” Chris admitted, and you apologized with your throat. You took him deeper than usual, gagging around him, the sound obvious in the library. Chris didn’t care. Neither did you. “But fuck, I can’t–I can’t stay away from you.”

You popped off Chris’ cock, voice raspy from your efforts. “Do you want to come in my mouth or not?” you snapped out, not appreciating the way he’d gotten you here only to do the very thing you’d been avoiding: talk.

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.”

Chris plunged his cock back between your lips. You worked him over until he exploded, all pent-up rage and arousal, filling your mouth with hot come. Heat rushed over your tongue with each pump from his cock, and you swallowed needily: another apology. Chris tucked his dick away, and he walked away without another word.

You went home alone that night. And the next. And then it was over a week without seeing either of the boys. It ached deep in the marrow of your bones, and by the time you were off again, you had decided to pick up a few bottles of wine to soak your sorrows in.

Kicking your door shut behind you, the messy apartment felt stale with dust and your lingering sadness. You had been spending more time at Chris’ apartment than your own, and even when you did go home, he was usually attached at your hip.

Tossing everything down onto the kitchen counter, you twisted open the shitty gas station wine and raised it through your lips. It tasted fine. Which was enough. You flopped down onto your couch, tv cranked up and turned to something mindless, and your muscles felt heavy, alone.

You were starting on your second bottle of wine by the time your mind had decided on something stupid. Stomping heavily toward the kitchen, your eyes settled on your phone. Your fingers found the receiver, and you swayed as you picked it up. You dialed a number, heard a curt hello? and you slurred softly: “Come over.”

The voice on the other end stammered, sounding different than the other. You tipped your head to the side, confused. So you slammed the phone down, and you sighed, leaning into the wall. Your nose pushed against wallpaper, and your hand clenched over the bottle. It lifted to your lips, blood red rivulets skating down your chin as you took a long pull, finishing it off.

The next thing you remembered were too many hands guiding you off of your couch and into your bedroom. A soft set of lips on your forehead. Another near the corner of your mouth. You were mumbling, and your arms reached out. You gripped an arm, maybe, and your eyes, unfocused, darted around the silhouettes in your room. “Please,” was the only thing that fell from your lips. The first coherent noise from you in a concerning amount of time.

“Sweetheart,” came a familiar voice. You felt tears well in your eyes, and you were more persistent.

“Please.”

“Okay, okay,” a different voice, no less familiar. The bed dipped under added weight, and you were engulfed on either side. Heat and tangled limbs and nuzzled noses. You were so overwhelmed, crying thickly. Spit gathered in a storm in your mouth as you sobbed, making you drool. Fingers wiped at your lips, and you heard little coos, little pitying comforts, and, on another night, you might have found it in you to be angry. But tonight, far too deep in the bottle, you were grateful for any attention at all.

“ ‘m sorry,” you hiccupped. “So fucking sorry. Goddammit–” You squeezed your eyes together. Fat tears soaked your cheeks, and the hands that moved against you could hardly keep up as they spilled.

“Shh, get some sleep.”

“We’ll be here.”

It took more soothing, little touches to your chest and pets through your hair, but you finally dozed.

The next morning, you were alone. The bed was cold, and you were lost. It had all felt so real.

But then you heard them speaking in the next room. Little laughs echoed through your home, making it full and warm. You stood from your bed, and, head pounding, you padded into your bathroom. You turned the knob on the sink and ran ice cold water from the faucet. Your hands dipped under the stream and gathered some in your palms; you tossed it onto your face. The shock to your system was instant. It made the throb in your skull worse, but you felt more alive.

After a moment, you turned off the water. Dabbing your face dry with the bottom of your t-shirt, you stepped back into your bedroom and started when you saw two bodies filling the space.

Chris looked over at you with that incredibly soft expression you were slowly becoming accustomed to. You dropped your shirt back down to cover yourself. Leon was at his side, arms folded, and there was something concerned in the pinch of his brow.

“How are you feeling?” Leon asked.

“Headache from hell,” you mumbled. Chris immediately moved; he disappeared around the corner and returned quickly with a bottle of painkillers. He tossed them to you, and you caught them with one hand. Even hungover, you were quick on your feet. You wished you were as deft with your emotions as you were with your hands.

You wrenched off the lid, and you dumped a few into your hand. Leon reached forward and took away the bottle while you tossed the pills back and dry-swallowed. Bitter from the coating, you stuck your tongue out, lip curling.

“What are you two doing here?” You sat back down on your bed, fingertips pushing into your temple. Chris and Leon exchanged a few looks.

“You called,” Leon murmured.

“Both of us. You don’t remember?”

A vague memory of blended voices on your phone. Too much to drink. “No–not really.”

Chris was the first to move closer to you. He perched himself on the edge of the mattress. “What do you remember?”

“Just–hands. It was warm before I fell asleep.” A bubble of panic. “We didn’t–”

“No,” Leon assured, still leaning in the doorway. “No way you were fine for that.”

You flopped backwards on the bed. Head surrounded by your pillows, it muffled the voices in the room. Blood rushed in your ears, sounding like the ocean. Chris reached out and touched your knee. “You said some things.”

“Oh god.” Your fingers clutched the pillow, squeezing the sides even tighter to the sides of your head. Hopefully, you could drown out their words entirely. Despite yourself, you asked with a raspy voice: “What did I say?”

“You apologized, mostly,” Chris continued. His palm skipped up over your bare thigh. “And told us you missed us.”

Leon crawled up the bed, and he hovered above your head; he pushed the pillow away from your head, pinning your wrists. His hold was loose, letting you move away if you wanted. (You didn’t.)

“You haven’t been fair to Chris,” said Leon. “We talked while you were sleeping.” Leon dipped down and peppered kisses over your cheeks. “You give a damn about him.”

“I know.”

“So why won’t you just say that?” Chris breathed. He, too, crept onto the bed, and he practically shoulder-checked Leon out of the way.

“Because I can’t–I can’t lose one of you. I just fucking can’t.” You sat up, moving away from both of them. The heat radiating was too much. There was a pulse in your head and between your legs, and you couldn’t afford to think with the wrong one. “I’m not giving up half of this. So if you want to fucking leave me out to dry, then–”

“Angel.”

Your eyes closed on instinct. Teeth worrying your bottom lip, you felt too many hands again. A palm at your hip, one on your back. Another on your cheek, with the last trailing up the inside of your thigh.

“We talked,” Leon murmured, putting emphasis on the second word: the tiniest little reprimand.

“The three of us are good together.” Chris kissed along your jaw. “As long as you start talking. No more of this bottling shit up.”

“You can’t do that to us.”

“I know,” you breathed as they laid you back against the bed. They overwhelmed you, not quite as tactical as you and Chris had been toward Leon, but meshing together well enough to get you where they wanted.

“Promise us, sweetheart.” Chris pulled your shorts down, exposing your cunt to the air. Leon dragged his fingers up between your folds to find your clit.

“I promise.”

“Not good enough.” Chris sucked a bruise into your neck: high enough that it would be seen at the station.

“I promise,” you keened while Chris’ fingers joined Leon’s. He pushed two digits into your soaked hole. Leon kept circling your clit, and his other hand pushed your shirt up until he could lap at one nipple.

“Keep saying it,” Leon said.

“There you go, rookie. Now you’re getting it.” Chris dropped down and flicked his tongue across the other nub on your chest. Your nipples pebbled under their attention, and they were quickly sucked into each waiting mouth.

“I promise. I promise.” It became a chant as they pulled you toward an orgasm. Slick coated Chris’ hand as he fucked his fingers deeper into you, faster now. Leon dragged your hood back and forth across your clit, the friction so delicious it could have made you cry. “Holy shit–I’m close, I’m gonna come, oh god–” Your back arched, and Chris leaned up until his lips were right by your ear.

“Come on, angel. Missed how pretty you look when you come for me.” Chris’ voice was rough, needy. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Leon found the soft spot just beneath your jaw, and he suckled at you. Another bruise sure to show. They were marking you. You were theirs. Oh, it brought tears to your eyes while you came. Little breaths of I promise still on your lips as it made your teeth chatter from the intensity. Chris stroked your fluttering walls with his fingers through the whole thing. Leon took mercy on you, and his fingers, wet with you, brushed over your lips until you sucked them into your mouth.

Tongue laving along him, Leon kissed your forehead. Chris kept mumbling praise: “There it is. That’s what I love to see. Fuck, need another picture of you. Come here. Come here.”

Chris drew his fingers out of your cunt, and you let him lift you. Chris was kneeling, thighs spread. He was still fully dressed, but while he’d been fingering you, his other hand had moved to free his dick from his pants. Thick, throbbing with want, Chris stroked his cock with the hand still sloppy with your wetness.

“Think you can take Leon, too?”

“Yeah,” you whimpered. “Yeah, I can.”

“Good, baby. That’s real good.” Leon shoved his pants off, underwear following. He knelt behind you, and Chris helped you as you were suspended between them. Chris sank his cock into the warm, wet heat of your pussy, and, once you were settled, he tipped your hips for Leon.

Leon gripped the curves of your ass, spreading you slightly. “Fuck, I need–”

Chris kept you balanced on his cock while he reached for your bedside table. His hand pawed for the lube you kept, and he tossed it to Leon who hurriedly slicked his cock with a generous amount.

The head of his cock pressed against your ass. It stung slightly, but you exhaled. Chris stroked through your hair, leaving kisses along your shoulder. “Take it slow, Leon.”

“I am.” Leon’s cock pushed into you with relative ease. You felt incredibly full as the two of them stretched each hole beyond what you even thought was possible. Moaning, Chris felt the pressure increase as Leon slipped into you. Your whole body shook, and Leon nuzzled into your neck.

“Shit, you feel good here, too, baby,” Leon murmured as he bottomed out. His dick was snug inside you. Everything felt heightened as they adjusted and started to thrust into you. It stuttered at first, with everyone learning how to move with one another like this. But then a rhythm settled. Chris in, Leon out. Your body clenched around them both, trying to keep them deep, and you loathed to feel empty.

Eventually, they synced their hips. Both in, both out. That was too much for your already-sensitive body. Cunt practically drooling slick, you were close to coming. Your clit twitched and throbbed; you reached a hand down and circled that pulsing pearl.

“Keep that up, sweetheart,” Chris breathed. “Need you to get me wet. I want Leon to have a taste.”

“Get him wet enough,” Leon started, exhaling hot against your ear, words punctuated by a quick snap of his hips. “And maybe you can watch him fuck me with your come.”

“Oh god–” It earned a fresh wave of arousal down your spine, ending in more wetness flooding from your pussy. Lewd noises met each pound of Chris’ hips now. He drove his cock deeper, finding your cervix and bumping it with each needy buck. Leon rutted into your ass with a fervor. They’d lost all sense of working with each other, working together, each only focused on trying to make you come again.

And it worked. You were rocked back and forth between them while your orgasm made your vision white out. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, and Chris dove forward to lick at it playfully. Leon groaned as all of your muscles flexed around both of them. Tingling skin, aching cords, your muscles rippled all along your body. You cried their names, the sounds echoing off the walls, and they both had to fight not to finish just yet.

Once your climax died down, they laid you aside in favor of chasing each other. You watched from where you lounged on the bed as they kissed one another; you could catch glimpses of their tongues passing over one another on occasion. Leon reached down and gripped Chris’ cock, pumping his fist along his shaft. You’d thoroughly soaked his cock, and the schlicks only served as a reminder.

Leon leaned down, falling to his hands and knees in front of you. He took Chris’ cock into his mouth, and he cleaned him of the mess you’d made on him. Chris coiled fingers into Leon’s hair, and you, with the little bit of energy in your bones, reached for the bottle of lube that Leon had used earlier.

You slicked up two fingers and pressed them into Leon’s waiting hole. He jolted from the cool feeling of the lube, and you soothed him with your other hand. Palm skating down his spine, you leaned up until you could press your cheek into the small of his back.

“Getting him ready for you,” you mumbled to Chris, planting kisses on the moles that dotted Leon’s frame. He nodded, too lost in the feeling of Leon’s mouth.

After a little bit of tender care from your end and from Leon, Chris had decided he needed more. Leon popped off Chris’ dick with a slurp, and he turned to face you instead. Leon crept forward until you were laying back down, and he was above you.

Leon kissed you deeply. His tongue pushed between your lips, and you could taste yourself and Chris’ musk in tandem; you moaned. Leon let his fingers slip down between your folds, and he pushed them against your entrance. Your cunt sucked him in, aching for just one more. Chris knelt behind Leon, and, still soaked with your arousal, sank his cock into Leon’s tight hole.

Leon moaned into your mouth. It was hot, breathy, and you swallowed it with excitement. Your hand curled over his cock, and Leon kept pumping his fingers. When you came, it was lazy, just like how Chris was fucking Leon. Slow, steady, bubbling over your bones like seafoam. Your pussy fluttered around Leon’s fingers, and he smiled into you.

Chris tipped over the edge. He pushed his hips flush to Leon’s ass and emptied himself into Leon. You stroked Leon’s cock until he burst, spattering his seed over your belly and up to your chest. Soft, almost, in the way he shook beneath you.

The three of you collapsed completely. Chris pulled out of Leon and guided him onto his side. Just like the night before, they swarmed you, one at each flank, and they barely cared as they accidentally swiped hands through the sticky mess on your skin.

One of your hands curled around Chris’ head, and the other took Leon’s messy palm in your own. They nuzzled each side of your face, and your eyes drooped. Caught again in the firmament, you felt yourself folded between two sets of angel wings. Nothing but feather-touches and unintelligible whispers as you drifted off to sleep.

Be not afraid.

#HOLY SHIT #i love stars chris #rookie leon too ??? #goddddd #I want them so bad #reblog

[goofyahhcats]

Hold the Line

Rating: E

Re5!Chris Redfield / Gn!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst if you squint, Injury, Violence (not related to smut), p in v action, Gn reader, reader is afab, reader usually wears a bra, use of sweetheart, baby, etc.

Summary: After being injured in the battle against Albert Wesker, you find yourself making stupid decisions. How can you face Chris after what you've done? He seems to be avoiding you. Then again, who wants to get chewed out by their coworkers? You can't help but notice a glint in his eye. It's just your imagination, right?

Word count: 3.8k

A03 link here:

Took some creative liberties with the end of/post re5 ignore that

Burning alive inside of a fiery volcano was not exactly your preferred way to go. The heat and smoke had forced their way inside of your throat hours ago, leaving you teary-eyed and gasping for air. Your eyes, open wide and wild with panic passing back and forth between the rocky landscape and the red and bubbling abyss. You watched in horror as the thing that was once your Captain writhed and screamed as he flung one of his many-tentacled appendages toward you. Scrambling in the other direction, you sprinted towards any open path that wasn’t obscured by lava or crumbling to pieces. Your boots thudded over the rough terrain with an unpleasant rhythm. A stark reminder of an unfortunate tumble you had recently landing you directly on your ankle. 

You focused on keeping your breathing steady as you stumbled as fast as you could away from Wesker. Who, after tossing a quick look over your shoulder, was gaining rapidly. A mass of Uroboros shot by you, just barely missing your arm and instead making contact with the floor in front of you. Crumbling away and sizzling as it contacted the lava, the stone of the once angled slope ahead now resembled more of a solid brick wall. Your steps slowed and came to a shaky stop as you stared unblinking at the end of the path. Horrified, you cringed as you heard Wesker’s maniacal laughter seeping between the loud bubbling of the active volcano. 

You turned, horrified, as he inched closer and closer towards you. His face wore a grin of satisfaction. Bright red and cat-like eyes alight with the fire of the hunt. Suddenly, his eyes locked somewhere above your head. His grin faded into a snarl as you heard a deep and loud voice scream your name.

“Grab on!” Chris’ large hand extended into view as you whipped around, jumping and gripping him as hard as you could. He almost effortlessly lifted you onto the ledge you had been trying to reach. Biceps and shoulders turning and flexing as he shoved you behind him. 

“Go! Now!”

Chris lets a few bullets fly from over his shoulder as a strong hand finds the small of your back and pushes you forward and away from the amalgamation that once was Albert Wesker. 

“We gotta get out of here!” Chris called, pulling you behind a boulder to avoid another attack from Wesker.

You stumbled, catching the side of the rockface to hold yourself up. You felt a hot and searing pain flare up from the base of your leg. Shit.

Chris noticed your pained expression, “Hey, what’s wrong?” A gloved hand reached your shoulder, turning your upper body to face him.

“It’s my ankle,” you grimaced, “Twisted it earlier when I was running.”

Chris’ eyes flooded with concern, “Shit, can you walk?”

You tentatively placed your foot down and put a bit of weight on it. The searing pain returned and you quickly withdrew your foot.

“It’s no good,” you rasp, shaking your head.

“Here, I’ll carry you,” Chris rumbled as he reached his hands under your shoulders and legs. You protested slightly but quickly shut your mouth as Chris took off in the direction of another alcove. You heard Wesker shriek as Sheva bombarded him with a barrage of bullets. Chris tucked behind the rocks and looked around, leaning against the wall for support. His breathing was hot, ghosting across your face in waves in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Sweat beaded over his forehead as he watched Sheva duel with Wesker. 

“The helicopter should be here soon,” he mumbles, eyebrows knit in thought and frustration.

“Just leave me here,” you look up at him sympathetically, “I’m no use to you two down there if I can’t even walk.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Chris’ dark eyes hold contact with yours. The steadiness of his voice surprises you. This was the Chris Redfield you knew.

“But-”

“No!” Chris yells. You feel his hands tighten and release around your sides as the spark of anger in his eyes slowly fades away. “I’m not losing another one.” His voice is once again steady, But his eyes betray his stoic expression. Tired, sad, and angry. For a brief moment, his eyes flood you with an emotion so intense you can hardly think straight. You feel warm inside, and you smile gently.

“I’m good with a rifle. Tell Jill to pick me up,” you hold his gaze as he drops his head, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a shuddering sigh. 

“I can’t let you do that,” he looks back down at you.

Suddenly, you are lifted into the air again. Chris pants as he brings his legs up to speed again, running across the volcano. Wesker and Sheva come into view. You breathe out gratefully that your friend is still alive. You feel Chris’ breath hitch as the full scene is revealed, however. Wesker has Sheva’s neck in a tentacled grasp. Her legs kick as she squirms in an attempt to fight back. You hear her gasp for air and struggle to breathe. Wesker smirks psychotically at her weak display of resistance.

“Chris-”

“I know!” His eyebrows are tightly knit, and he looks down at you and back up at Sheva. Taking initiative, you wrestle yourself out of his grip. 

“No,” Chris starts but returns his gaze to Sheva as Wesker drops her to the floor, laughing as he cages her in between him and the lava.

He looks back at you, surprised to find your eyes filled with cold hard determination. Your rifle was positioned in your hands.

“Go,” you state. Nodding towards Sheva, “I’ll be ok. Help her.”

A moment's hesitation, but you see his eyes harden again, “Alright. I trust you.”He turns away. 

Suddenly, you are overcome with a rush of emotions. Worry. Want. Need. Before you know it, you are hobbling on one leg and grabbing at his bicep for support. Chris stares at you, bewildered, before you drag his head forward by the vest. Your lips meet for a brief moment. Seconds, maybe. His arm cards through your hair and he holds you close. You feel that warm feeling spread through your body again before it is ripped away as you pull from the kiss.

“In case we don’t see each other again,” your expression is somber,  patting him roughly on the shoulder and giving him a slight push in the right direction. He takes two staggering steps forward, looking back at you before his expression tightens. He nods and charges off towards Sheva and Wesker.

The rest of the night is a blur. Jill arrives in the helicopter, just in the nick of time. They swing over to retrieve you, and you watch as Chris and Sheva blast Wesker to pieces. You all sit back as the helicopter flies away, the volcano retreating into the distance. The ride is silent, but you occasionally can feel Chris’ hot gaze on your back. Your hands brush his as you exit the helicopter back on base. 

You don’t talk to Chris for a whole month. You had been too engrossed in your medical status - doctors confirming that you had fractured your ankle - and had been bedridden for weeks. Your hospital had denied you visitation, instead putting you in trauma counseling. You didn’t need the therapy, this was the fault of the BSAA’s shitty cover story, claiming that a violent house fire caused you to fall a few flights of stairs, losing all of your roommates and extended family in the process. Those roommates and extended family were covers for the deaths of the other members of Bravo and Delta Team, who had lost their lives in battle. Of course, the BSAA only told this story to the general masses and the hospital. The details - although as vague as possible - were disclosed to the families of the deceased. After your counseling, you endured a few more weeks of physical therapy and were now happily on your own two feet once again. 

You reentered the BSAA headquarters for the first time in what seemed to be forever and were greeted by many astonished coworkers. You smiled and waved, giving gratitude towards all of the well wishes that you received. In reality, you had been scanning the crowd for a familiar face and a brown tuft of hair. You couldn’t find Chris anywhere.

You became a bit frantic, eyes looking from face to face to no avail. At some point, you excused yourself and rushed through the compound. Twisting and turning through the corridors, you eventually come face to face with a strong wooden door. The engraving read, ‘C. REDFIELD’. You raised your fist and knocked one, twice, three times, before you heard a muffled, “Coming,” and some shuffling from within.

You took in his figure when he opened the door. Once broad and proud shoulders tired and hunched. His arms remained built and impressive, but you could feel the weight they carried as they dangled loosely by his sides. His face was scruffy as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. Although you silently admitted it was a good look for him. His hair was considerably longer, and the quiff in front no longer stood at attention and instead lay half up half down in a feeble attempt. He had heavy eyebags, which encircled his thick eyelashes and lidded gaze. 

“Chris,” you shift on your feet nervously, unsure of whether to run away or wrap your arms around him. 

A low mumble of your name cascades between his lips. His right arm twitches upward as if to touch you, grab you, hold you close, but then slowly returns to its initial position. 

You stand in silence for a few moments, taking each other in with thousand-yard stares. A spark of something, you aren’t sure what exactly, fills Chris’ eyes. He takes a step back. Gesturing to his office, “Come in.”

You walk in and take in the familiar surroundings. This is not the first time you’ve been inside of his office. He always kept it surprisingly tidy, but it always had a comfortable and lived-in feeling to it. However, now you notice trash on the ground. Cups upon cups of coffee are scattered about. On the desk, on the floor, and in the trash can. 

Chris takes a seat in his desk chair and you sit on one of the two chairs facing his desk. The quiet was deafening. Chris rummaged through his desk, avoiding your gaze. You open your mouth to speak, say anything to break the silence that was hanging over the two of you like a wet blanket. Chris beat you to it, haphazardly tossing a wad of papers into your lap.

“Need you to file a mission report,” he was speaking in his professional voice. His inflection read This is strictly business, nothing more. You picked up the papers and flipped through them. Nothing caught your eye. You raised your head to find that Chris was already looking at you. His eyes bore into yours as if he was searching for something. You nod, going to stand, to leave, to get away from the warm blossoming feeling. He doesn’t protest. Your hand reaches the doorknob before you are halted by his voice, gravelly and tired.

“What was that?”

You turn to face him, “What?”

“Wesker. The volcano. You know what I’m talking about.” Chris’ eyes catch yours once again.

Oh. 

You are flooded again with that familiar feeling. You hate it. His lips had felt so tender, so soft. You felt the need to run to him. Wrap your arms around him, and tell him everything is going to be alright.

“What about it do you want to know?” your voice is quiet, feeling almost cornered by his gaze.

Chris sighs and drags his hand over his face. His eyes break contact and stare at the ceiling.

“We need to talk,” he mumbles.

“About-”

“Everything.” his voice rises slightly, and he stands up. He makes his way towards you and halts. You can feel your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He was so close. You could practically count each scar and blemish that decorated his upper body. You longed to trace your fingers over them. To soothe the aches that he must be feeling.

Chris’ hand reaches over yours, and clasps around your right hand, still resting on the doorknob. You tense up as Chris gently turns the handle and pushes the door open. The knob swings away, but his hand remains on yours.

“Meet me at my place tonight,” his hand slowly retracts, as if he just now realized what he had done. 

“We need to talk,” he repeats.

You nod in reply, your throat too dry and your voice too shaky to respond. You stay staring at him for a moment, before turning and leaving his office. 

You finish your BSAA duties quickly, rushing home and almost stumbling on your way to the shower to clean yourself up. Only once you had finished getting dressed and were slipping on your shoes did the reality of the situation hit you. Your rushed movements slowed as the anxiety set in. You felt the pit at the bottom of your stomach only grow as your car neared Chris’ apartment building. You made your way up the stairs, practically sick with the idea of actually confronting your feelings.

You raised a fist and knocked only once at his door before it opened. Inside stood the same Chris that you had met this morning, only now in a comfortable white shirt and gray sweatpants. He steps backward, and you walk in as he shuts the door behind you. You look around his modest but homey apartment. 

Just like his office, you reminisce. Smiling slightly to yourself as you walked further into the simple living room. Chris takes a few long strides to his couch and sits down. He takes a beer he seems to have placed on the table previously and cracks it open. As you sit, you notice he had put out one for you too. You take it graciously and take a sip.

Chris turns to you, “So, about what happened-”

“I am so sorry Chris. I overstepped. I really shouldn’t have let my feelings get in the way of work, I-”

“Stop.” Chris gently rests a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“No! But, it was so unprofessional of me..!” your hands flail about as you talk,  words tumbling from your mouth as the coil inside of you unravels faster than you could keep up, “Sheva could have died and I- I was just being… selfish,” You exhale at that last word and look up into Chris’ dark eyes. For the first time in months, weeks, or years, you see a smile spread across his face. It crinkles the corners of his eyes up, and you feel as though you will never see anything as beautiful ever again. 

“Sweetheart,” it falls gracefully between his lips as he talks, the other hand coming up to brush a knuckle along your jawline, You feel your face heat up.

“Chris, listen-”

Chris shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. You let out a muffled squeak in response. It was all passion, Want. Need. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around you and you reciprocated. Fingers finding their way into his hair, alternating between stroking and pulling. He groaned into your mouth and swiped his tongue across your lips. You obliged. His tongue buried against yours as you suddenly found yourself leaning back against the cushions. 

The warm feeling is everywhere. Hot and heavy. But this time, you didn’t want to back down. You needed more.

One of your hands took a detour from his hair and began exploring his expanses of muscle. His biceps flexed on instinct as you came into contact with them. You traced up and down the curve of his elbow as he kissed you harder.

He broke away for air for only a split second before diving into you again. You felt and heard him audibly shudder as your wandering hand found the edge of his shirt. He broke away, face flushed.

“Are you sure?” It was quiet, almost difficult to hear. You nodded.

Chris cupped your face with his hand, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you whispered, wetness pooling in your pants as he quickly pulled up his top. You were only allowed to stare for a moment before he captured your lips in his again. Instead, you opted to see with your hand, which traveled over every bump, bruise, scar, and muscle it could find. He groaned and fisted a hand in your t-shirt. You pushed his chest away and broke the kiss, hot breaths filling the silence of his living room as you fumbled with your shirt, exposing your chest to Chris.

“Fuck, no bra?” he growled against your ear as he began to grope and explore your body just as you had his.

You let out a small giggle, “Nope, didn’t feel like one today,” you gasped as he gripped onto your sides, making contact with the top of your pants.

He smirks, “Shouldn’t feel like wearing one more often, then. Fuck,” he stares down at your chest, “I’ve been missing out.”

His mouth catches yours and you pull him down flush against you. You can feel his sizeable bulge against your thigh, which only deepens the wetness pooling in your underwear.

With a surge of confidence, your hand reaches between the two of you and palms Chris through his sweatpants. He lets out a low and shuddering moan at the feeling. You fumble with his waistband before he pulls it down himself. His boxers come down with them and you are left with the feeling of his cock springing against your stomach. You swallow heavily as you stare. He was long and thick. You gripped him and stroked once experimentally. He let out a breath and hissed as you slid your thumb over the head. You slid your hands up and down his shaft before he grabbed your wrist. 

“Let me take care of you first,” he whispered. In a flash, your pants and panties had been removed, exposing your glistening cunt to the world. Chris groaned at the sight. He experimentally slid a finger between your folds. Your hips bucked upwards at the feeling, a noise escaped your lips that you didn’t know had been there.

Chris raises his finger and chuckles, “All for me?” he presses the finger to your lips. You gently allow him inside and clean him off with your tongue. He takes his finger away and returns it to your folds. One finds its way to your slit and strokes over and around the opening, while another finds your clit. Both fingers circle for a moment until you grow desperate, rocking your hips against him. 

“Chris.. don't be such a tease,” you say between each rock of your hips. Your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders. He allows you to rock for a little while. Simply admiring you with a soft look on his face.

“Chris, please,” you whine. He groans, dipping one finger inside of you. You moaned louder than you had meant to as he began to thrust his finger back and forth. The other finger rubs circles over your clit as you pull him down towards you for another kiss. He kisses you passionately, bordering on rough as you whimper into his mouth. You can feel his resolve cracking the more your tongues and lips meet. His fingers speed up until he quickly rips them away from you. He breaks the kiss, staying close to your face. His eyes burn with desire.

“Tell me you need me,” he growls low, one of his fingers returning to your folds. You start to respond but let out a choked moan as he tugs at your clit.

“Tell me you fucking need me,” Chris’ eyes flash “Because I've always needed you.”

“Fuck… Chris, I need you..! I need you right now, please just-” 

You are cut off by his cock sliding itself into you, and you moan. Your back arches up as your hands tighten over his shoulders. His lips dip down to your neck, kissing and sucking as he begins to move at a rapid pace. No slow introduction, no pacing, he needed you and he needed you now. 

Your moans bounce throughout his living room, skin on skin echoing through his apartment. You bring a hand up to his hair and pull, bringing his head up from its position at your neck. He groans at the feeling, eyes locking onto yours as he pounds into you. 

One of his hands grips the flesh of your thigh and lifts, bringing it upwards. The stretch nearly causes you to orgasm on the spot. Chris’ cock nudged that perfect spot with each thrust. 

“Fuck.. baby,” Chris rasps in your ear, his other hand holding tightly to your waist, “I'm close. I'm close… fuck.”

You moan in response, reaching down between the two of you to thumb at your clit. Chris quickly grabs your wrist, “No. Let me..” 

His calloused thumb rubs against your clit, and you can feel your pussy tightening against his cock.

“Shit, yeah sweetheart. Just like that,” Chris moans. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips meet yours quickly. He’s messy, sloppily kissing you in time with his thrusts. He drops his head and groans a chorus of Fuck’s and Shit, baby.

“Look at me. Are you close?” you meet his eyes and nod, moaning his name.

“Chris,”

“I know, baby.”

His thumb speeds up, and you spasm. Your back arches up as you cum, your legs shaking. You spill fluids all over his dick, moaning and babbling incoherently. It doesn't take long for Chris to find his end as well. You feel a hot sensation flooding between your legs as Chris empties himself into you. He gasps and groans as he thrusts into you a few more times. 

His movements halt and you both stay there, breathing heavily. You hold eye contact with him as he gently pulls out of you.

He sits back, admiring his work. He then stands and pads towards another room. You hear a sink running. He returns with a warm washcloth and wipes you down, folding the cloth over and then wiping himself off. Ever the gentle giant, he tenderly sits you up, offering you a glass of water. You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you gratefully sip the beverage.

Chris gently strokes your hair with one hand. You smile and nuzzle into his side. His arm wraps around you as you both sit there in silence for a few minutes.

You turn your head up to him, “Did you mean what you said? About needing me?” 

Chris sighs, a small smile falling across his features, “Yeah, I did. Did you?”

You return the smile, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

“Yes, always.”

#nsft #damn yall loved this wtf

[goofyahhcats]

rain on the way

rating: M Piers Nivans/BSAA!Reader warnings: gn!reader, no smut, alcohol, piers sucks, peer pressure, death mentions word count 3k summary: Alpha Team meets their new rookie, and Piers is more than a little enraptured. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49706311/chapters/125464039 AN: Part two will have smut. Do not interact with any part of this work if you are under 18.

“So, Macauley,” Piers began, throwing himself into the seat beside Finn. His arm hooked across the back of the chair. “Heard you’re not the rookie anymore.”

The bar was quiet, nearly empty on a Wednesday night. But it provided warmth and solace to the alpha team. Cheap drinks flowed. Half-price to entice business. The TVs above the bar were almost all off, except for one that the bartender was watching carefully regarding the weather. Rain on the way.

“Not anymore, no.” Finn puffed his chest. He looked proud, like he was impressed he’d made it this far. Piers would never say it, but Finn was a good agent. He was the best demolitions specialist he’d worked with–here or the army–and it was no surprise how easily he’d slotted into their group. Then again, he’d also been hand picked by the captain. So that tracked.

“What else have you heard, Piers?” Ben asked, leaning back as he spun his glass of Guinness against the table. It scraped the wood, and a bit of foam toppled over the edge. Andy reeled back from the splash, swearing as some spilled into his lap.

“Goddammit, you dumb bastard,” Andy muttered, shoving Ben against the shoulder.

“Let me clean it up for you and that’ll be the most action you’ve gotten in weeks,” Ben said, puckering his lips in a kissing motion. Andy looked like he was winding up a punch.

“Alright, lovebirds, knock it off,” Piers called, waving his hand. “Take that shit home.”

“Yeah, shut the fuck up, I wanna hear about the new kid,” Carl chimed in, reaching over with a balled up wad of napkins to clean the table of Ben’s mess.

“A transfer from the marines,” Piers offered. That caught everyone’s attention, soft murmurs rippling around the table. Impressive. Marines didn’t often come over to the BSAA. “Intel, mostly, but in the field, hand-to-hand is their speciality. Knives and shit.”

“Damn. And how old?” Andy asked as he sopped up the beer from his jeans.

“Think the file said twenty-six.”

Carl whistled low. “Shit, and we got Macauley first?”

“Hey!”

A rumble of laughter along the table. Piers nudged Finn with his elbow to catch his attention. He shook his head, making a small gesture with his hand to just assure him that it was all in good fun. Luckily, Finn had been latching onto everyone’s sense of humor, and he nodded in reassurance. Piers let the smallest smirk pull at the corner of his lips, and he settled back in his chair.

“Just try not to act like the jackasses you all are,” Piers muttered. A waitress came over, and Piers reached for his wallet to offer a card. “Hey, just something light on tap,” he ordered. She took his card and wandered off to open his tab.

“We’re off the clock, I don’t have to answer to you.” Ben’s voice was lilted, teasing. But it was true. Here, they were friends. Family, even. Still, Piers knew how everyone could be. Well, except Finn.

“But you do have to answer to me, off-duty or not.”

Chris had showed up unexpectedly. So engrossed in the conversation, nobody had noticed him entering the bar with the rookie in tow. He was grinning, clasping Ben on the shoulder and shaking him slightly in his chair.

“Hey, captain.” Piers’ voice was low, rumbling, and he was trying to play it cool. But his eyes drifted quickly from the captain to the body beside him.

You were radiating confidence, casting outward like beams of sunlight through clouds boiling with thunder. Piers could see the muscle definition on your body without straining, and you kept your hands folded behind your back. The picture perfect soldier. Piers tipped his head to take stock of your face. Your eyes burned with intensity, and you turned to face him. Piers held your gaze, and, after a moment, you broke into a smile, nodding to him politely before facing the rest of the unit.

Chris gave you space, and your arm stuck out to grip Ben’s firmly, introducing yourself. You repeated the gesture with everyone. When you got to Piers, he was pleased with the strength of your grip and the sparkling sound of your name rolling off your tongue. You were proud. Piers could tell you had every right to be.

“Lieutenant Piers Nivans,” he supplied when the silence stretched a little too long. He’d been staring again. A tinge of pink rose to his cheeks. “Nice to see you in person.”

“You’ve read my file.”

“Sure have.” Piers dipped his head in a slight nod. “I liked what I saw.”

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“I’m sure you won’t.” It came out with jagged edges, too rough with his clear excitement. You grinned at him, and Piers’ eyebrows raised slightly. You took your hand back, and Piers’ skin was still hot to the touch.

You sat down between Finn and Ben as Captain Redfield pulled up another chair to squeeze around the table. The waitress returned with Piers’ beer, and she set it down in front of him. He mumbled a quick thanks before turning her attention to you.

“Yeah, can I get a Long Island iced tea? Thanks.” You shifted to fish your wallet out from your pocket, and you produced a card for her. Chris waved her off, opting not to drink, and she sauntered off, clearly exhausted by the unit already.

“So Nivans tells us you’re marines,” Ben started, leaning away to get a better look at your face.

“Was,” you corrected.

“Right. What’s your degree in?”

“Criminal justice. Thought about becoming a judge advocate for a while, but–” You shrugged. “Duty calls.”

“What made you join the BSAA?” Piers asked, taking a sip of his beer.

With that, you gave a humorless laugh. “Shit hit the fan on an op. We were out raiding a bunker. We were supposed to find just your regular run-of-the-mill terrorists. Instead, we got some special assholes. They were untrained, homebrewing viruses, and they managed to turn themselves into these fucked up things. We weren’t ready for it when we kicked in the door.”

Silence spanned over the table for a moment while you grabbed your drink from the waitress, taking a long drink.

“Lost half my unit, including a good friend. Knew then I wanted to stop those fuckers no matter the cost.”

Piers watched the storm on your face. Rage. Revenge. But ultimately, a fundamental good in your eyes backed up with intelligence and means. When you looked up, you settled on Piers again. And for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you at the table.

“You’re tougher than me,” Finn murmured. “Half your unit…I don’t know what I’d do.”

There was a bubbling urge to poke fun at the kid. But, for once, it didn’t spill over. Something somber had taken hold, and the alpha team was looking over each other. For all their ribbing, for every shitty argument, they cared about each other. Losing even one would prove devastating. Piers looked down at the foam in his beer, and he raced his thumb over the glass.

“Sorry, guys,” you offered. You shifted back and forth in your seat, and your hands picked at the edge of the table. “Didn’t mean to bring everyone down.”

“You’re fine,” Chris assured. He rested an arm around Carl, scrubbing a hand back and forth over the other man’s head: a little glimpse of the affection the captain held for them all. “It’s a little perspective, I think. Something we all forget.”

“You take it for granted,” Ben agreed. “You know, when ops go fine, it’s easy to think you’re invincible. It’s good to remember we’re not.”

A soft murmur of agreement. But you still looked uncomfortable. You reached forward and grabbed your glass; quick in your efforts, you drained the rest of your drink and stood. “I’m gonna get another. Be right back.”

As you walked away, Piers watched carefully. Your hips swayed in a way that was damn near hypnotizing. Piers didn’t know if he was ever going to look away. At least, until Andy shoved his elbow so far in his ribs, Piers howled out, “Shit–what the fuck was that for?”

“What’d he call you two earlier?” Carl asked, loud. Too loud. “Lovebirds?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Piers snapped. “Don’t you start.”

“Nivans has eyes for the rookie,” Ben sang, burying his nose in his beer and laughing. “Oh, shit, you look like a fucking schoolgirl right now, Piers.”

“Dude, he’s so red,” Andy shoved at Ben’s shoulder, and a raucous rain of laughter burst into the air. Even Finn was all smiles, laughing at Piers’ plight.

“I swear to fucking god–”

“Piers,” Chris warned. But there was light in the captain’s eyes, dancing under the warm bar lights. He was just as amused. That made it worse. “I don’t need to remind you about the code of ethics.”

“No, sir.” Dating within a unit was strictly forbidden. Fraternization was a sticking point for the BSAA. No hook-ups and definitely no relationships. Though Chris tended to be a little more lenient. Occasional bedfellows Ben and Andy were a prime example. They’d never been reported despite their dalliances, so Piers knew Chris’ little reminder was simply so he could say he did his part.

“You should go say something,” Finn encouraged, having the decency to keep his voice quiet.

“Yeah, Nivans, come on. Now’s the time. Before you miss out.” Ben waggled his eyebrows, and Piers felt a bristle of anger along the back of his neck.

“Airhart, you are pushing your fucking luck.”

“Hey, he’s got a point,” Carl offered. “If it’s not you, it’ll be someone. I mean–” He threw his arm over his chair and turned. His gaze found you waiting at the bar. Piers’ vision seemed to be obscured by blood as Carl looked your frame up and down pointedly; he spun back to the table. “Just look at that.”

“Fine.” Piers hit his hands against the table as he stood; his chair scraped backwards roughly, and Piers stormed his way over to the bar. His spite fueled him, but he quickly found himself slowing down as he approached you.

You had one elbow leaned against the bar, face propped in your palm, and the other was tapping in time to the song playing softly over the speakers. You still radiated that burning pride, and Piers liked it. He slid into the space beside you, pushing the stool next to him away so he could stand with his shoulder flush to yours.

“Hey,” he rasped, crossing his arms on the top of the bar. You twisted to look at him and smirked. Your brows furrowed in a look of almost confusion.

“Oh, hey–should I call you lieutenant?”

“No, just Piers is fine.”

“Alright, just Piers. What’s up?” You were quick to the point. Piers found himself mirrored in you, and it was only adding to his intrigue.

“Thought I’d talk to you alone.”

“And why is that?”

Piers bit down on his bottom lip, ducking his head. “You don’t make this easy.”

“Almost a lawyer, remember?” you teased. “Pretty much a detective.” Your refill of your Long Island iced tea slid across the bar and you took a slow drink. Your throat bobbed with each swallow; you licked your tongue over your lips after you pulled off the glass, and Piers observed the movement with great interest. “So spill, just Piers.”

Piers reached out and picked up your drink. You watched his fingers curl around the glass, and you saw him raise it up to his face. He spoke over the rim of it, “I think you’re pretty cute.” He sipped from your glass, the ice clinking. “I could show you a good time.” At that, one eyebrow of yours raised nearly to your hairline; you stood a little straighter, arms folding over your chest.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” you asked.

In truth, it was. Piers wasn’t quite sure what more he needed. It was simple, to the point. It didn’t help that he knew the unit’s eyes were all over you both, watching this interaction. His pulse quickened a little.

You flicked your gaze past Piers, and your eyes settled on everyone watching. At that, you softened. “Hey.” You reached out and touched his wrist, urging him to set the drink down. It hit the wood with a soft thunk, and Piers was awestruck at the contact. “Did they set you up to this?”

Piers released the glass and wrung his hands together. “No. Yes. Sort of.”

You hummed. “Follow me.”

Piers allowed your hand to fully ensnare his wrist. You led him out toward the back of the bar where you both slipped out through the entrance to the alleyway. It was supposed to be staff only, but no one paid you any attention as you pushed the heavy black door open with a creak; you dropped down once before sitting on the steps. Piers did the same. You were hip-to-hip on the tiny brick stair, and your hands locked together in front of you.

The air was cool outside. The chill of winter was starting to leave, but when the sun went down in the city, it was still pretty cool. Goosebumps bloomed over Piers’ skin, and he saw you shiver.

“Much better.”

Piers didn’t know how. It was unpleasant. Even soft wisps of your breath curled out from your lips and drifted up into the air. Thunder rolled. Piers remembered the weather report: rain on the way.

“Sure, if you hate central heating,” he quipped. You leaned your shoulder into his, rocking you both slightly.

“You’re kind of a jackass.”

At that, Piers couldn’t help but grin. It should have made him snap, should have prompted a reprimand and some droning sentence about insubordination. But Piers found himself pushing you back, swaying you both the other way.

“What are you gonna do, charge me?”

“Maybe.” Piers watched you visibly relax. But a shadow crossed your face despite the tension leaving your limbs. “Piers–I think I fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Joining the BSAA. I think I joined for the wrong reasons, and I don’t fucking belong here.”

“You only just got started.”

“And look where I am. I came in too strong and now, what? I’m a joke?” Your nose wrinkled, and you chewed on your bottom lip until you pulled at the skin, causing a little bit of blood to well up. “I don’t know. I feel like it was a mistake.”

“We all have reasons. Most of them are selfish.” Piers was blunt, and his voice was rough to your ears. “I joined because I thought I was built for something better than special forces. What I’m capable of, what they trained me to do–I knew it was better used somewhere else.”

“Yeah, but why’d you join the army?” you challenged. “I’m sure that was–”

“My family.” Piers shrugged. “Fourth generation military. It’s what I was supposed to do. Nothing fucking nobel about that. But I don’t care. I’m doing good shit where I’m at. Doesn’t matter how I got here.” A beat. “It’s the same for you.”

You considered his words. Piers looked up when thunder rumbled closer now; a string of lightning raced through the sky, unraveling as it went, and the smell of rain was thick in the air.

“I told you I lost a good friend,” you mumbled. You turned to look at him. Piers dropped his head; his hazel eyes were boring into you as you spoke again, “It was more than that.”

A pang of understanding. Piers suddenly did feel like a huge jackass for asking you out, pressuring you on the first day with the unit. But still, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at your lips. That bead of blood was still there; Piers reached up and thumbed it away, wiping it off on his shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I never would have–”

“Done whatever that was if you knew?” A teasing lilt entered your voice again. Piers offered you a lopsided grin.

“I would have tried a little harder,” Piers fired back.

“Fuck off.”

Shared, breathy laughs as you both pushed at each other. Rain started to fall, but you made no move to go inside. Not yet. It chilled through Piers’ clothes, and you tugged your arms tighter to yourself.

“Listen,” Piers started. “I think you belong here. I don’t say shit like that very often. But you–I don’t know. There’s something about you.”

His words were like a balm. He watched your whole face release. Your pinched features relaxed, and your tease was weak as you said, “Now there’s some effort.”

“I mean it.”

“I can tell.”

The rain came down harder. You pushed yourself off of the step, but instead of going inside, you stepped down, deeper into the rain. You offered a hand to Piers, and he took it, following you. Within seconds, you were drenched.

“You know, you’re pretty cute yourself,” you murmured over the downpour. Piers smiled. His head dipped a little lower toward you. “Thanks, rookie.”

“Oh, you’re the worst.”

With a swift movenemtn, you balled a fist in his jacket, and practically dragged him down into a kiss. Your mouth parted and allowed his tongue entry; heat wrapped around you both and fought off the chill of the rain. Piers broke away after a moment. Soft pants left his lips, fanning out over your skin and warming that raindrops that skipped across your cheekbones.

“So can I take you out?” Piers breathed.

You hummed, considering. “How about this? Beat me in hand-to-hand, and I might say yes.”

Piers loved a challenge. And he especially loved the way it sounded falling from your lips. Thunder cracked across the sky again, following a rolling spool of lightning that split open the sky above you.

“Deal.”

#TGIS WHOLE FIC JUST HAS ME HJFNNDFJJSN #I LOVE PIERS

[goofyahhcats]

Just wanted to say that I love that you write for Piers! It's so hard finding content with him, especially fics, and it's so refreshing to see someone else go crazy for him.

HE'S MY FAVORITE BOY

genuinely, i adore Chris, he's up there, but if someone held me hostage and told me to give up who my favorite Resi character was, it'd be Piers.

He's soooooooooooooo perfect, I adore him. (im writing something exceedingly comforting right now with him LOL)

#THIS ASK IS THE TRUTH #GOD I LOVE FELLOW PIERS ENJOYERS #I LIED THIS WHOLE POST IS THE TRUTH #hmgmmgmmg refreshing the page for the piers content rn

[goofyahhcats]

Hold the Line

Rating: E

Re5!Chris Redfield / Gn!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst if you squint, Injury, Violence (not related to smut), p in v action, Gn reader, reader is afab, reader usually wears a bra, use of sweetheart, baby, etc.

Summary: After being injured in the battle against Albert Wesker, you find yourself making stupid decisions. How can you face Chris after what you've done? He seems to be avoiding you. Then again, who wants to get chewed out by their coworkers? You can't help but notice a glint in his eye. It's just your imagination, right?

Word count: 3.8k

A03 link here:

Took some creative liberties with the end of/post re5 ignore that

Burning alive inside of a fiery volcano was not exactly your preferred way to go. The heat and smoke had forced their way inside of your throat hours ago, leaving you teary-eyed and gasping for air. Your eyes, open wide and wild with panic passing back and forth between the rocky landscape and the red and bubbling abyss. You watched in horror as the thing that was once your Captain writhed and screamed as he flung one of his many-tentacled appendages toward you. Scrambling in the other direction, you sprinted towards any open path that wasn’t obscured by lava or crumbling to pieces. Your boots thudded over the rough terrain with an unpleasant rhythm. A stark reminder of an unfortunate tumble you had recently landing you directly on your ankle. 

You focused on keeping your breathing steady as you stumbled as fast as you could away from Wesker. Who, after tossing a quick look over your shoulder, was gaining rapidly. A mass of Uroboros shot by you, just barely missing your arm and instead making contact with the floor in front of you. Crumbling away and sizzling as it contacted the lava, the stone of the once angled slope ahead now resembled more of a solid brick wall. Your steps slowed and came to a shaky stop as you stared unblinking at the end of the path. Horrified, you cringed as you heard Wesker’s maniacal laughter seeping between the loud bubbling of the active volcano. 

You turned, horrified, as he inched closer and closer towards you. His face wore a grin of satisfaction. Bright red and cat-like eyes alight with the fire of the hunt. Suddenly, his eyes locked somewhere above your head. His grin faded into a snarl as you heard a deep and loud voice scream your name.

“Grab on!” Chris’ large hand extended into view as you whipped around, jumping and gripping him as hard as you could. He almost effortlessly lifted you onto the ledge you had been trying to reach. Biceps and shoulders turning and flexing as he shoved you behind him. 

“Go! Now!”

Chris lets a few bullets fly from over his shoulder as a strong hand finds the small of your back and pushes you forward and away from the amalgamation that once was Albert Wesker. 

“We gotta get out of here!” Chris called, pulling you behind a boulder to avoid another attack from Wesker.

You stumbled, catching the side of the rockface to hold yourself up. You felt a hot and searing pain flare up from the base of your leg. Shit.

Chris noticed your pained expression, “Hey, what’s wrong?” A gloved hand reached your shoulder, turning your upper body to face him.

“It’s my ankle,” you grimaced, “Twisted it earlier when I was running.”

Chris’ eyes flooded with concern, “Shit, can you walk?”

You tentatively placed your foot down and put a bit of weight on it. The searing pain returned and you quickly withdrew your foot.

“It’s no good,” you rasp, shaking your head.

“Here, I’ll carry you,” Chris rumbled as he reached his hands under your shoulders and legs. You protested slightly but quickly shut your mouth as Chris took off in the direction of another alcove. You heard Wesker shriek as Sheva bombarded him with a barrage of bullets. Chris tucked behind the rocks and looked around, leaning against the wall for support. His breathing was hot, ghosting across your face in waves in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Sweat beaded over his forehead as he watched Sheva duel with Wesker. 

“The helicopter should be here soon,” he mumbles, eyebrows knit in thought and frustration.

“Just leave me here,” you look up at him sympathetically, “I’m no use to you two down there if I can’t even walk.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Chris’ dark eyes hold contact with yours. The steadiness of his voice surprises you. This was the Chris Redfield you knew.

“But-”

“No!” Chris yells. You feel his hands tighten and release around your sides as the spark of anger in his eyes slowly fades away. “I’m not losing another one.” His voice is once again steady, But his eyes betray his stoic expression. Tired, sad, and angry. For a brief moment, his eyes flood you with an emotion so intense you can hardly think straight. You feel warm inside, and you smile gently.

“I’m good with a rifle. Tell Jill to pick me up,” you hold his gaze as he drops his head, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a shuddering sigh. 

“I can’t let you do that,” he looks back down at you.

Suddenly, you are lifted into the air again. Chris pants as he brings his legs up to speed again, running across the volcano. Wesker and Sheva come into view. You breathe out gratefully that your friend is still alive. You feel Chris’ breath hitch as the full scene is revealed, however. Wesker has Sheva’s neck in a tentacled grasp. Her legs kick as she squirms in an attempt to fight back. You hear her gasp for air and struggle to breathe. Wesker smirks psychotically at her weak display of resistance.

“Chris-”

“I know!” His eyebrows are tightly knit, and he looks down at you and back up at Sheva. Taking initiative, you wrestle yourself out of his grip. 

“No,” Chris starts but returns his gaze to Sheva as Wesker drops her to the floor, laughing as he cages her in between him and the lava.

He looks back at you, surprised to find your eyes filled with cold hard determination. Your rifle was positioned in your hands.

“Go,” you state. Nodding towards Sheva, “I’ll be ok. Help her.”

A moment's hesitation, but you see his eyes harden again, “Alright. I trust you.”He turns away. 

Suddenly, you are overcome with a rush of emotions. Worry. Want. Need. Before you know it, you are hobbling on one leg and grabbing at his bicep for support. Chris stares at you, bewildered, before you drag his head forward by the vest. Your lips meet for a brief moment. Seconds, maybe. His arm cards through your hair and he holds you close. You feel that warm feeling spread through your body again before it is ripped away as you pull from the kiss.

“In case we don’t see each other again,” your expression is somber,  patting him roughly on the shoulder and giving him a slight push in the right direction. He takes two staggering steps forward, looking back at you before his expression tightens. He nods and charges off towards Sheva and Wesker.

The rest of the night is a blur. Jill arrives in the helicopter, just in the nick of time. They swing over to retrieve you, and you watch as Chris and Sheva blast Wesker to pieces. You all sit back as the helicopter flies away, the volcano retreating into the distance. The ride is silent, but you occasionally can feel Chris’ hot gaze on your back. Your hands brush his as you exit the helicopter back on base. 

You don’t talk to Chris for a whole month. You had been too engrossed in your medical status - doctors confirming that you had fractured your ankle - and had been bedridden for weeks. Your hospital had denied you visitation, instead putting you in trauma counseling. You didn’t need the therapy, this was the fault of the BSAA’s shitty cover story, claiming that a violent house fire caused you to fall a few flights of stairs, losing all of your roommates and extended family in the process. Those roommates and extended family were covers for the deaths of the other members of Bravo and Delta Team, who had lost their lives in battle. Of course, the BSAA only told this story to the general masses and the hospital. The details - although as vague as possible - were disclosed to the families of the deceased. After your counseling, you endured a few more weeks of physical therapy and were now happily on your own two feet once again. 

You reentered the BSAA headquarters for the first time in what seemed to be forever and were greeted by many astonished coworkers. You smiled and waved, giving gratitude towards all of the well wishes that you received. In reality, you had been scanning the crowd for a familiar face and a brown tuft of hair. You couldn’t find Chris anywhere.

You became a bit frantic, eyes looking from face to face to no avail. At some point, you excused yourself and rushed through the compound. Twisting and turning through the corridors, you eventually come face to face with a strong wooden door. The engraving read, ‘C. REDFIELD’. You raised your fist and knocked one, twice, three times, before you heard a muffled, “Coming,” and some shuffling from within.

You took in his figure when he opened the door. Once broad and proud shoulders tired and hunched. His arms remained built and impressive, but you could feel the weight they carried as they dangled loosely by his sides. His face was scruffy as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. Although you silently admitted it was a good look for him. His hair was considerably longer, and the quiff in front no longer stood at attention and instead lay half up half down in a feeble attempt. He had heavy eyebags, which encircled his thick eyelashes and lidded gaze. 

“Chris,” you shift on your feet nervously, unsure of whether to run away or wrap your arms around him. 

A low mumble of your name cascades between his lips. His right arm twitches upward as if to touch you, grab you, hold you close, but then slowly returns to its initial position. 

You stand in silence for a few moments, taking each other in with thousand-yard stares. A spark of something, you aren’t sure what exactly, fills Chris’ eyes. He takes a step back. Gesturing to his office, “Come in.”

You walk in and take in the familiar surroundings. This is not the first time you’ve been inside of his office. He always kept it surprisingly tidy, but it always had a comfortable and lived-in feeling to it. However, now you notice trash on the ground. Cups upon cups of coffee are scattered about. On the desk, on the floor, and in the trash can. 

Chris takes a seat in his desk chair and you sit on one of the two chairs facing his desk. The quiet was deafening. Chris rummaged through his desk, avoiding your gaze. You open your mouth to speak, say anything to break the silence that was hanging over the two of you like a wet blanket. Chris beat you to it, haphazardly tossing a wad of papers into your lap.

“Need you to file a mission report,” he was speaking in his professional voice. His inflection read This is strictly business, nothing more. You picked up the papers and flipped through them. Nothing caught your eye. You raised your head to find that Chris was already looking at you. His eyes bore into yours as if he was searching for something. You nod, going to stand, to leave, to get away from the warm blossoming feeling. He doesn’t protest. Your hand reaches the doorknob before you are halted by his voice, gravelly and tired.

“What was that?”

You turn to face him, “What?”

“Wesker. The volcano. You know what I’m talking about.” Chris’ eyes catch yours once again.

Oh. 

You are flooded again with that familiar feeling. You hate it. His lips had felt so tender, so soft. You felt the need to run to him. Wrap your arms around him, and tell him everything is going to be alright.

“What about it do you want to know?” your voice is quiet, feeling almost cornered by his gaze.

Chris sighs and drags his hand over his face. His eyes break contact and stare at the ceiling.

“We need to talk,” he mumbles.

“About-”

“Everything.” his voice rises slightly, and he stands up. He makes his way towards you and halts. You can feel your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He was so close. You could practically count each scar and blemish that decorated his upper body. You longed to trace your fingers over them. To soothe the aches that he must be feeling.

Chris’ hand reaches over yours, and clasps around your right hand, still resting on the doorknob. You tense up as Chris gently turns the handle and pushes the door open. The knob swings away, but his hand remains on yours.

“Meet me at my place tonight,” his hand slowly retracts, as if he just now realized what he had done. 

“We need to talk,” he repeats.

You nod in reply, your throat too dry and your voice too shaky to respond. You stay staring at him for a moment, before turning and leaving his office. 

You finish your BSAA duties quickly, rushing home and almost stumbling on your way to the shower to clean yourself up. Only once you had finished getting dressed and were slipping on your shoes did the reality of the situation hit you. Your rushed movements slowed as the anxiety set in. You felt the pit at the bottom of your stomach only grow as your car neared Chris’ apartment building. You made your way up the stairs, practically sick with the idea of actually confronting your feelings.

You raised a fist and knocked only once at his door before it opened. Inside stood the same Chris that you had met this morning, only now in a comfortable white shirt and gray sweatpants. He steps backward, and you walk in as he shuts the door behind you. You look around his modest but homey apartment. 

Just like his office, you reminisce. Smiling slightly to yourself as you walked further into the simple living room. Chris takes a few long strides to his couch and sits down. He takes a beer he seems to have placed on the table previously and cracks it open. As you sit, you notice he had put out one for you too. You take it graciously and take a sip.

Chris turns to you, “So, about what happened-”

“I am so sorry Chris. I overstepped. I really shouldn’t have let my feelings get in the way of work, I-”

“Stop.” Chris gently rests a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“No! But, it was so unprofessional of me..!” your hands flail about as you talk,  words tumbling from your mouth as the coil inside of you unravels faster than you could keep up, “Sheva could have died and I- I was just being… selfish,” You exhale at that last word and look up into Chris’ dark eyes. For the first time in months, weeks, or years, you see a smile spread across his face. It crinkles the corners of his eyes up, and you feel as though you will never see anything as beautiful ever again. 

“Sweetheart,” it falls gracefully between his lips as he talks, the other hand coming up to brush a knuckle along your jawline, You feel your face heat up.

“Chris, listen-”

Chris shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. You let out a muffled squeak in response. It was all passion, Want. Need. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around you and you reciprocated. Fingers finding their way into his hair, alternating between stroking and pulling. He groaned into your mouth and swiped his tongue across your lips. You obliged. His tongue buried against yours as you suddenly found yourself leaning back against the cushions. 

The warm feeling is everywhere. Hot and heavy. But this time, you didn’t want to back down. You needed more.

One of your hands took a detour from his hair and began exploring his expanses of muscle. His biceps flexed on instinct as you came into contact with them. You traced up and down the curve of his elbow as he kissed you harder.

He broke away for air for only a split second before diving into you again. You felt and heard him audibly shudder as your wandering hand found the edge of his shirt. He broke away, face flushed.

“Are you sure?” It was quiet, almost difficult to hear. You nodded.

Chris cupped your face with his hand, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you whispered, wetness pooling in your pants as he quickly pulled up his top. You were only allowed to stare for a moment before he captured your lips in his again. Instead, you opted to see with your hand, which traveled over every bump, bruise, scar, and muscle it could find. He groaned and fisted a hand in your t-shirt. You pushed his chest away and broke the kiss, hot breaths filling the silence of his living room as you fumbled with your shirt, exposing your chest to Chris.

“Fuck, no bra?” he growled against your ear as he began to grope and explore your body just as you had his.

You let out a small giggle, “Nope, didn’t feel like one today,” you gasped as he gripped onto your sides, making contact with the top of your pants.

He smirks, “Shouldn’t feel like wearing one more often, then. Fuck,” he stares down at your chest, “I’ve been missing out.”

His mouth catches yours and you pull him down flush against you. You can feel his sizeable bulge against your thigh, which only deepens the wetness pooling in your underwear.

With a surge of confidence, your hand reaches between the two of you and palms Chris through his sweatpants. He lets out a low and shuddering moan at the feeling. You fumble with his waistband before he pulls it down himself. His boxers come down with them and you are left with the feeling of his cock springing against your stomach. You swallow heavily as you stare. He was long and thick. You gripped him and stroked once experimentally. He let out a breath and hissed as you slid your thumb over the head. You slid your hands up and down his shaft before he grabbed your wrist. 

“Let me take care of you first,” he whispered. In a flash, your pants and panties had been removed, exposing your glistening cunt to the world. Chris groaned at the sight. He experimentally slid a finger between your folds. Your hips bucked upwards at the feeling, a noise escaped your lips that you didn’t know had been there.

Chris raises his finger and chuckles, “All for me?” he presses the finger to your lips. You gently allow him inside and clean him off with your tongue. He takes his finger away and returns it to your folds. One finds its way to your slit and strokes over and around the opening, while another finds your clit. Both fingers circle for a moment until you grow desperate, rocking your hips against him. 

“Chris.. don't be such a tease,” you say between each rock of your hips. Your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders. He allows you to rock for a little while. Simply admiring you with a soft look on his face.

“Chris, please,” you whine. He groans, dipping one finger inside of you. You moaned louder than you had meant to as he began to thrust his finger back and forth. The other finger rubs circles over your clit as you pull him down towards you for another kiss. He kisses you passionately, bordering on rough as you whimper into his mouth. You can feel his resolve cracking the more your tongues and lips meet. His fingers speed up until he quickly rips them away from you. He breaks the kiss, staying close to your face. His eyes burn with desire.

“Tell me you need me,” he growls low, one of his fingers returning to your folds. You start to respond but let out a choked moan as he tugs at your clit.

“Tell me you fucking need me,” Chris’ eyes flash “Because I've always needed you.”

“Fuck… Chris, I need you..! I need you right now, please just-” 

You are cut off by his cock sliding itself into you, and you moan. Your back arches up as your hands tighten over his shoulders. His lips dip down to your neck, kissing and sucking as he begins to move at a rapid pace. No slow introduction, no pacing, he needed you and he needed you now. 

Your moans bounce throughout his living room, skin on skin echoing through his apartment. You bring a hand up to his hair and pull, bringing his head up from its position at your neck. He groans at the feeling, eyes locking onto yours as he pounds into you. 

One of his hands grips the flesh of your thigh and lifts, bringing it upwards. The stretch nearly causes you to orgasm on the spot. Chris’ cock nudged that perfect spot with each thrust. 

“Fuck.. baby,” Chris rasps in your ear, his other hand holding tightly to your waist, “I'm close. I'm close… fuck.”

You moan in response, reaching down between the two of you to thumb at your clit. Chris quickly grabs your wrist, “No. Let me..” 

His calloused thumb rubs against your clit, and you can feel your pussy tightening against his cock.

“Shit, yeah sweetheart. Just like that,” Chris moans. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips meet yours quickly. He’s messy, sloppily kissing you in time with his thrusts. He drops his head and groans a chorus of Fuck’s and Shit, baby.

“Look at me. Are you close?” you meet his eyes and nod, moaning his name.

“Chris,”

“I know, baby.”

His thumb speeds up, and you spasm. Your back arches up as you cum, your legs shaking. You spill fluids all over his dick, moaning and babbling incoherently. It doesn't take long for Chris to find his end as well. You feel a hot sensation flooding between your legs as Chris empties himself into you. He gasps and groans as he thrusts into you a few more times. 

His movements halt and you both stay there, breathing heavily. You hold eye contact with him as he gently pulls out of you.

He sits back, admiring his work. He then stands and pads towards another room. You hear a sink running. He returns with a warm washcloth and wipes you down, folding the cloth over and then wiping himself off. Ever the gentle giant, he tenderly sits you up, offering you a glass of water. You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you gratefully sip the beverage.

Chris gently strokes your hair with one hand. You smile and nuzzle into his side. His arm wraps around you as you both sit there in silence for a few minutes.

You turn your head up to him, “Did you mean what you said? About needing me?” 

Chris sighs, a small smile falling across his features, “Yeah, I did. Did you?”

You return the smile, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

“Yes, always.”

#NSFT #smut #angst #chris redfield #chris redfeild x reader #resident evil #re5 #albert wesker #idk hes there for a bit im adding him #god i love him #gender neutral reader #no use of y/n #afab reader