Chris Redfield Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

Like Adam & Eve (Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin)

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin

Warnings: age gap + smut + wrap your biscuit, please

Request:

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

****

He was beautiful. So handsome. Tall. Muscular. In his early 40s. Intelligent. Open-minded. Honest. Brave. Selfless. All this despite his impulsiveness.

She had known him for years. Since 1998, after the events of Raccoon City and Rockfort Island, when she was under government protection. On several occasions, Leon and Claire had come to visit her; him with them. She was only 12 years old at the time. He was already 25. He saw her as a scared little girl. A child to defend from this cruel world, from her past with her parents... In 1998, the attraction she had developed towards him was only innocent, of course. With no ulterior motives.

The years passed and the number of meetings multiplied. The more she became a woman, the more she wanted to attract his attention, joking with him, telling him about her boyfriends to spark off some kind of jealousy deep in him. She voluntarily wore clothes that emphasized her feminine attributes, although she didn’t have JLO's curves...

For four years, their paths didn’t cross again, until June 2013. President Benford's death, Simmons' betrayal... But there he was. They hadn't been teammates because they didn't share the same mission, but the same conflict had brought them together. Once again, she had not been able to enjoy his presence, to savor it, except on the plane back to the United States.

Sitting between him and Jake, she chatted with Chris Redfield, Wesker's archenemy, her former godfather and her late father's best friend. She was talking to him, her eyes sparkly, her lagoon-colored doe eyes riveted on him, while a smile stretched her rosy lips. Her features, still somewhat juvenile, despite her 27 years, gave her a baby face. She was beautiful. Radiant. In spite of all that she had lived; horrors. He also had his fill of BOWs. Together, they were making up for the time and she even caught herself, almost innocently, sliding her hand over his bicep as she reassured him. Redfield was still not out of his mental breakdown. It had been going on for months and getting back on track was proving difficult.

"Would you like to drink a beer, one day?" she asked in a honeyed voice.

"Oh... I don't know, I'm exhausted..."

Yet his answer didn't make her face fade. The young blonde needed more.

"Oh, come on, Chris! Please, it's been ages since we've spoken... When's the next time? When there will be another bioterrorist attack?"she sighed with a pout.

"Well... Okay, but only once. I have a lot of work to do, you know."

A smile triumphed on Sherry's face as she simply nodded and thanked him. The brown hair man took advantage of it to go towards the toilets of the private jet and at the moment he disappeared in this cabin, Jake patted the shoulder of the blonde. A malicious smile stretched the fine lips of the redhead, clearly amused by the situation. He wasn’t blind.

"You devour him with your eyes, Birkin... What are you waitin’ for to ‘sweet-talk’?"

"I... He's not interested..." she stammered, embarrassed. These simple words reminded her of the day when Redfield had pushed her away, indirectly, without her knowledge. Jill and him were talking, in Claire’s garden, because she had organized a party where all her friends, fighting the bioterrorism, had been invited. It was a mistake. She just wanted to get some fresh air... A bad mistake.

It was hot. Way too hot inside. Sweat was clinging to her skin and even her glass of iced water, after the two glasses of alcohol she'd ingested, wasn't helping to bring her body temperature down. The summer of 2009 was proving to be more overwhelming than she had anticipated. The hubbub in the room was giving her a headache. Leon already seemed to be completely drunk and Claire was chaperoning him. Meanwhile, Sheva and Barry were talking to each other. There were also other agents she only barely knew. Discreetly, she fled the house and, immediately, her body tingled with the coolness of the night. It was pleasant.

Once again, she brought her glass to her lips and the cold liquid flowed down her throat. As she listened to the song of the crickets, whispers made their way to her ear canals. Curiosity overcame her and she moved towards the two voices; a woman and a man. She pressed herself against one of the walls, silent, and recognized who the voices belonged to: Jill and Chris.

"Don't you see how she's looking at you? Chris! You're blind!"

"Jill... Seriously, I think you're fretting over nothing. Sherry sees me as a big brother and I see her as a little sister or a cousin."

A sigh escaped the brunette's lips.

"I'm not fretting. There are looks that don't deceive... Look, I'm not jealous, but I'm telling you what I see. Put up barriers before she takes it as... An invitation."

"All right, if it makes you happy."

Heartbroken, hands shaking, stomach clenched, throat knotted, the little blonde went back inside and no one seemed to have noticed her short absence. She sat down on the sofa, next to Claire, putting back on her mask... The mask of a happy person. The man she had been interested in for eleven year saw her as a little girl, a sister.

What were you thinking, Sherry? He's been with Jill for ages, she's gorgeous, she has the look of a real woman... She's full of qualities. She's not a Birkin! her conscience shouted.

The barriers he put in place? He hadn't seen her in years. Four years, to be exact. It was extreme, and even though Jill had told him it was too much, he'd felt it was the right thing to do, if his girlfriend's assumptions turned out to be true. And while Chris had tried to reassure Jill, when they were still together, he was reassuring himself at first. He had observed her chest and her bottom, on several occasions, during a few seconds. He had almost drowned in her cerulean eyes too. It had become so difficult not to look at her.

Now, Chris, needed to be alone. Only two minutes and the bathroom would prove to be the perfect excuse. Now, in front of the stall mirror, he watched his reflection. Droplets of blood adorned a part of his right cheek. His blue eyes looked tired, lost.

You accept once and you make her understand that there will never be anything between you... Right?

There had to be. He couldn’t allow himself to build a relationship with a woman he had known as a child, it would be indecent and would call into question his image, his values. He was afraid of looking like an old pig, of proving Valentine right, even though they had broken up in November 2012. All these thoughts provoked profusions of sweat, that he tried to mop up with his back hand. When he closed his eyes, for a moment, the features of the beautiful Birkin came back to his face like a slap. Her angelic eyes, her superb smile, her cleavage, her butt... A bump formed inside his boxer, and his eyes widened.

It is tiredness, nothing else... he reassured himself.

And, in a vain hope, he imagined his grandmother in atrocious underwear, until his erection disappeared. Once sure of himself, he left the toilets, went towards Sherry and whispered: "we’ll agree on the place and the hour for the beerby message, tomorrow" and he moved away to find Leon, in full discussion with Helena.

Move away... Move away... Move away...

*

Sherry had done everything to make him come to her house, to drink the beer. She had tried to put on clothes that would highlight her, a simple skirt that didn’t reveal too much and a simple crop top with straps. He had arrived with five minutes of advance and quickly, the beer had been consumed. She hadn’t left him time to speak, to express his desire to break off all ties, to explain her there would never be anything between them, that she started up a movie. A comedy focused on sex, a strategic way to relax the atmosphere that was getting heavier. Indeed, the more she stayed by his side, the more she dreamed of letting her graceful fingers run over the protruding muscles of the man, from his arms, to his torso, passing over his thighs that she dreamed of straddling until the orgasm. She often dreamed of him, of what he made her, his dick inside her. From minute to minute, discrete, she approached him, by light movements, in natural although calculated appearance... Her ass was close to him, to the crotch of the B.S.A.A’s Captain.

He, Chris, had understood the stratagem. However, impossible to emit the least remark. Every time he opened his lips, he was unable to... hurt her. He knew if he said what was in his mind, he would hurt the young woman. Not to help, his cock was so close to Birkin's tender buttocks and her jasmine scent intoxicated him. She nibbled on her lower, wet, luscious, lower lip; a call to kiss. A new erection showed up and he was quite happy that the covers above them prevented the blonde from noticing it.

He tried his best to be focused on the movie, until a sex scene appeared on the screen. Embarrassed by this scene combined with his proximity to the blonde, he cleared his throat and looked away at Sherry's coffee table. Her crystalline laughter attracted his attention and he gazed at her. His cock continued to tense; it was becoming disturbing. The desire was growing and he was struggling. An internal struggle he wasn’t winning.

"Chris! Don't be embarrassed, it's only a movie and then... Well... I think it's funny how they make some positions look simple!" she said while batting her eyelashes. If she didn’t know yet the power that she possessed, it didn’t change the fact he wanted to devour her. To jump on her. Kiss her.

"That's because you haven't found the right partner..." he whispered.

He couldn't help it. It was the truth and... And what? His brain wasn’t running smoothly anymore. If only someone could shake him, slap him, to bring him back to his goals.

"Oh yeah? Explain to me..."

The blonde turned around and in her swiveling, her buttocks rubbed against his hard cock. The way she had rubbed herself wasn’t accidental, far from it, it was guessable. And he guessed she had felt his erection. A smile stretched Sherry’s lips who slid a hand on the thigh of the soldier, so close to his erect member. The blonde's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned over him. Chris gulped with difficulty. He dreamed to stroke her breast, to sink into her, to show her he was right.

"Show me, then." she added, of a suave voice.

She was the one who initiated the kiss by pressing her lips against his. With this last lost control, he let his hands wander on her beautiful body. His thick and calloused hands sought her chest, under her crop-top, whereas she wasn’t wearing a bra. He quickly removed the garment and tossed it somewhere in the living room. As he kissed Sherry, he titillated her breasts, her erected nipples. Soon, their lips pulled apart and he licked her nipples, drawing sighs of pleasure from his partner.

He no longer cared about what was right or wrong. If she was too young or not. If he had known her as a kid or not. It didn't matter.

Meanwhile, Sherry took off Redfield's shirt, slid her phalanges between each line of his abs, before attacking his belt. Once rid of this one, she opened the button of his jeans, then took his zipper down. She didn’t seek to get rid immediately of his pants. Instead, she stroked his hard cock through his boxers for a few moments, which made Chris sigh. Finally, she freed his cock from this confined place to admire it, her mouth watering. It was very thick, probably 7,4inches (19 centimeters) long, completely hard, veiny, with a pink head. Some pre-cum covered the tip. With a false look of innocence, she ran her fingers over his balls, on his cock, to the head, then placed kisses on it.

"Sherry..." breathed Chris, his eyes half-closed, watching her. She looked up at him and licked his cock. Again and again. After titillating him, she took him her mouth, her perfect lips wrapped around his member, moving back and forth with wet noises. She insisted on the most sensitive places, in particular on the tip, while she massaged his balls. Her heart beat was off the charts, following the example of that of his sexual partner.

She did everything to please him, to receive his compliments and when the first ones came, such as "nice girl", "oooh... perfect...", her heart swelled with joy. When he asked her to stop, she complied, moved her thong to the side and came to rub her wet intimacy against Redfield's penis as he grunted with excitement... With anticipation... She was having fun rubbing his head at her vagina entrance. She was torturing him.

"Chris... Tell me you want me..."

"Sherry..."

"Please. Say it. I want you so much... If I could make you my God, I would..." she squeaked without stopping her movements.

"Goodness, yes! I want you Sherry! I want you like I haven't wanted a woman like that in so long!"

That's all it took for the blonde to impale herself on Redfield's cock, not waiting for him to finger her. It was a waste of time in an unexpected situation she never thought she'd ever succeed to provoke. There she was, straddling his cock, with delicious moans. Sometimes, she threw back her head, sometimes she lowered her eyes on their sexes, watching this huge cock moving inside her, stretching her in the most pleasant way.

Chris couldn't believe it. It was as if he was a spectator... As if he was possessed... Yet he was heaving a great time and his thrusts joined Sherry's movements to help her. His hands had found their way on Birkin’s milky hips. Then, he made her roll and lie down on the sofa. He got rid of his pants and his boxer, just like her thong and the skirt. He penetrated her again in a grunt, folded the thighs of the blonde against herself and pounded in her of brutal pushes. Fast. A pleasant revenge for having provoked him... To have made him leave the right way.

She was Eve. He was Adam. The forbidden fruit? Her pink pussy, martyred by his cock.

The blonde moaned and she didn't need to play with her clit to get off. Chris was naturally gifted, as she had imagined in all her dreams since she was a teenager. He was hitting the right angle, the G-spot. It felt so good that she couldn't say anything except let her vocal cords do the talking... Just her luck that her downstairs neighbor had gone on vacation!

"God... Chris... Keep going... Like this...!"

He didn't stop, he let the pleasure continue to climb, until they were close to orgasm. He closed his eyes as her vaginal walls pulsed around him, like a soft vise around his cock, a sign that her orgasm was hitting her hard. She was cheering him. Struck by his own orgasm, Chris grunted and let his seed paint the blonde's walls. His cock throbbed after the four hot spurts of cum. With a sigh, he pulled out and opened his eyes again. His cum was flowing out of her still convulsing pussy in the most erotic way possible. Gradually he caught his breath and let Birkin's legs fall back. The latter was smiling, her face and chest pink.

My God, what have I done...?he thought.

Yet he didn’t escape like a thief.

*

No, instead, they often slept together. If he tried not to have any attachment, he couldn’t help but stay always longer than he should, whether it was in Sherry's bed, in her shower, or inside her. The more time he spent, the more addicted he became to her, like a drug. It was worse than meth. He couldn't get off it. Little by little, he was falling. No, in fact, he was falling in love with the one he had always denied himself.

Asleep, Sherry was sleeping naked, stuck against him, their legs intertwined, under the moonlight that filtered into the room. She hadn’t closed the shutters. One of her hands were flattened against one of his biceps. He contemplated her curves and her angel face. Tenderly, his fingers slid along the spine of his partner. He didn’t manage to sleep, torn between his duty and his desires.

He had obviously spoken about it to Claire who... Didn't see any harm in it. In fact, really open-minded, his young sister had advised him to start a relationship with Sherry, if he liked the blonde.

"You deserve that! Nobody can judge you when you bleed to save the world every day!" she had whispered while hugging him.

Did he love Sherry? Yes, he recognized the same signs as he had for Jill a decade earlier when he realized he was madly in love. Today, his heart claimed Sherry. Deep down, he knew she was waiting for this, she would accept to start a relationship with him, she was dying for it and if it frightened him a few weeks earlier, now the idea warmed his heart. In a tender gesture, he placed a kiss on Sherry's forehead, whose eyes fluttered as she awoke from her sleep. Slowly, her eyes opened and locked with Redfield's.

"What is it Chris...?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you so much..." he whispered in a husky voice.

The woman's eyebrows furrowed, and she straightened in the middle of the bed, inviting him to continue.

"All these years I knew you wanted me and I acted like I didn't know anything about it, pushed you away as much as possible and... Even though my heart was taken, I regret it. Sherry... I..."

He straightened up in turn and his thick hands framed Sherry's face.

"What I mean is... I love you. I'm a loser when it comes to love confessions, but it's been said."

The blonde burst out laughing then stole a soft kiss from him.

"All that matters now is that we're together. Okay?"

In the end, yes, that was all he cared about. Chris knew he had to think of himself and that meant loving Sherry without any remorse.

***

My AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetrayedWriter/profile

Surprise me, Redfield (Chris Redfield x Moira Burton)

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Moira Burton

Warnings: age gap?

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

She was Barry's oldest daughter. The little Moira he saw at every barbecue of his colleague and friend. While he worked as a cop as S.T.A.R.S. member, she played Barbies and went to elementary school.

A child of 1991. And him? An old guy from 1973.

She could have been his daughter, if he had had her young. He felt bad that he thought she was cute, even though she wasn't his type, basically. He liked the curve of her lips whenever she smiled or laughed, as well as the way her eyes shone with mischief.

She was morally forbidden to him. She had just turned 30 and, naturally, Barry had invited him to her birthday party. Like him, she hadn't found love, preferring to devote herself to her career as an agent since 2011... After she and Claire were trapped and plunged into horror.

Now, he was watching her devour her piece of cake, under his gaze, while he had already finished his. He looked away from those so appetizing lips, which called him, tormented him. It had been years since he had seen Moira and for some reason, he wanted to see her. To talk to her. To kiss her. To spend a night between her thighs. Afterwards, he would cherish his memories.

"Chris, are you okay? You seem miles away", Barry remarked, raising an eyebrow to support his questioning.

Chris cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about the last time I celebrated my birthday with family members."

A good excuse. A real excuse. Barry nodded, patted him on the shoulder, and warned him he would go get a few beers.

Redfield felt the call of nicotine, it burned in his veins, but he counted on it to calm his ardors. He put down his plate, then headed outside the house, to sit in the grass of the garden, out of sight. Immediately, he slipped one of the cigarettes between his lips, and lit it with his favorite Zippo. He took a drag, then a second one. Gradually, his shoulders relaxed; he loosened up. The door to the garden creaked, snapping him out of his pause, and he swung his head around. There she stood behind him, two beers in hand, and she joined him, sitting down at his side. She handed him back a beer, which he gladly accepted, as he finished his cigarette.

"It seems you're sulking, Redfield." she commented.

"I'm exhausted, I haven't gotten my energy back since my last mission..." he sighed before crushing the butt of his cigarette under his shoe and then picking it up out of courtesy.

Finally, he took a sip of his beer, his eyes riveted on the flowerbed a few meters away. Barry's wife had always had a green thumb and it wasn't going to change, obviously.

"Well? You're getting old!" she laughed before putting a hand on his shoulder.

At her remark, he swallowed with difficulty and moistened his lips. He had celebrated his 48 years in January and even if his body remained tonic, imposing, that his mentality wasn't so old, these simple words reverberated in his mind like a painful mentra. Old... That's what he was.

"Probably..."

Chris turned his head to the brunette who was staring at him, her eyes mischievous, as Redfield's gaze fell on her full lips. A piece of cake had taken up residence at the corner of her lips, conferring her an innocent look. He would have loved to kiss her and collect that piece of cake, but when he was about to lean toward her, he thought better of it and tightened his grip around the beer. No, he couldn't do that. At the time of Raccoon City, she used to call him "Uncle Chris" even though they didn't share a drop of blood... And Barry would even strangle him at his age, being 61.

"My dad told me that you gave me a gift of $500. Thank you, that's very generous... But not very sought, Mr. 'I'm busy all the time', ah!" she scoffed.

Money wasn't a problem in their workfield, but it was still a lot... Maybe not enough for her. She wanted something else. Something more precious... Rare.

"I figured I wouldn't risk giving you a gift you wouldn't like. That's good thinking, right?"

Moira admired him for a moment and bit her lower lip. With her gaze, she imprinted his face in her memory, from his unshaven beard, to his blue eyes, to his thin lips or even the wrinkles that made his charm. For a long time, she hadn't seen him as an uncle, without any ulterior motive. But tonight, without her knowing why, she found him attractive...

"I know what kind of gift you can give me!" she announced.

She paused and talked again:

"Take me on a date."

Chris nearly choked with his saliva. Quickly weighing up the pros and cons, he nodded, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"When?"

"Surprise me, Redfield."

With that, the brunette got up, beer in hand, and headed home, smiling. Her heart was beating wildly, without imagining it was the same with Chris who couldn't believe it. In spite of himself, he was delighted by this invitation. Usually, he was the one to make the first move, but Moira seemed full of surprises...

Under his eyes, she rushed into the house.

He couldn't wait.

Even if Barry was going to kill him.

***

This was requested by an adorable reader named Jaina on AO3 :)

I know it's short compared to some of my works, but I had been busy and wrote this one on my cell phone aha

My AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetrayedWriter/profile

My instagram : @carolinemertz_

My twitter : @BetrayedWriter & @carolinemertz_

I'm gonna accept a few requests for Leon, Chris and Wesker, so don't hesitate if you have an idea (you can check my last work to make sure you like my writings) 💜

P.S : English isn't my first language