#rebecca chambers x you

[delphi-shield]

detours in the pursuit of knowledge

Rebecca Chambers x Reader smut mdni wc: ~5.3k i wrote this as a birthday gift to myself and only just now bothered to edit and post it. (my birthday is in january lmfao) sorry for being a munch. (i'm not.)

summary: her interest in you is purely professional. your potential is being squandered under your current advisor. she can help you flourish.

content: professor/student relationship (graduate level), fem reader, rebecca's pov, public sex (rebecca's office), oral sex (rebecca receiving), dry humping, squirting, tit sucking, fingering.

Rebecca’s read your work. It's good work, but it could be better. She could make it better. You’ve got drive. You're resourceful, sharp - you take instruction well, but you don't need your hand held. You’re perfect for her. Everything she looks for in a protege wrapped up in a pretty package. 

The only issue is that you’re locked down by another professor.

It felt skeevy, scheming to steal another professor's graduate student, but in the interest of the professional development of the next generation of scientists, she felt she was justified in poaching you from boring, complacent Dr. Stonebriar. Stonebriar had more assistants that he knew what to do with, anyway. You weren’t getting the attention that you needed. Hell, you’d already been pushed into her lab.

She still remembers it - the way you had knocked at her door so timidly, poked your head in like you were afraid she’d snap at you to get out then and there.

“Hi – Dr. Chambers? Do you have a moment?”

Technically, she had been obligated to have a moment. You were in one of her lectures, had every right to show up to her office hours. Even if you hadn’t been, she enjoyed talking with students. The look of surprise on your face when she calls you by your name and confirms your class is endearing.

You’re endearing, she realizes. There’s an ease to talking to you despite your obvious nerves. You’d explained your situation as professionally as you could, and Rebecca’s soft smile had twisted to something knowing.

“Tired of people messing with your stuff, huh?” She cut you off in the middle of your (too polite, too generous) explanation. Relief rounded your shoulders and melted through your formal expression.

“Yes,” you sighed, exasperated. “Someone nearly threw out six months of my work the other day. I had labeled it and everything. I’m scared someone’s gonna set me back months. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you have room in your lab could I move in there?”

How was she supposed to say no to that? She felt your pain. There was nothing worse than people getting their hands all over your work, messing with it- god forbid, throwing it out. The fit she would throw if that happened would have been legendary. From what she’d seen of your lab habits, the two of you wouldn’t clash. There was no harm in helping a student out of a tricky situation.

She’d gone so far as to help you move your things over. It was equal parts kindness and nosiness. She’d looked over your work as she moved you across the hall, peppering you with questions about your goals, the thought process behind your experiments, what you’d hoped to achieve.

That first day had been enough to pique her interest. She’d leaned in to look over your numbers, shoulder brushing against yours, chalked the way your speech had faltered up to nerves. You held your own. That frightened little lamb look you’d first rolled into her office with was nowhere to be seen once you started talking science. You were quick, considering her questions fully before you answered.

She didn't normally take on graduate students. She was picky. It was a lot of time and energy to invest into someone when you did it right. She had to make certain that you were worth it, that you were cut out for this. Your work was solid. No doubt about it. 

A month into sharing a lab with you and she was sure of your character as well. What she’d initially interpreted as an almost pathological need to people please had given way to consideration. She’d only been ready to steal you away once you’d stood up for yourself, defended your process to her when she had poked holes at every turn.

She was sold on you for certain when she had eviscerated your thesis (per your request) and your only reaction had been to ask her to repeat that last part verbatim, that you hadn’t quite gotten it down yet. The awkwardness that would linger after a critique was absent. You’d taken it in stride, took note of her remarks, and asked what her weekend plans were.

You flourished with attention. Even the small things made you light up. For the first few weeks she’d been carefully plotting her lab time around yours, trying to ensure you stayed out of each other’s way. That quickly fell by the wayside. It was natural to be next to you. There was a familiarity in dancing around each other. A hand between your shoulder blades as she passed behind you, your knuckles ghosting against her hip to draw her attention - normal. All of it.

One day you’d showed up to lab with two coffees in hand. Rebecca had flitted over to you, hand hovering back and forth between the cups.

“Which one is which?”

“They’re both the same,” you’d shrugged. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

There it is again - so endearing. Her stomach flips. Just happy to have coffee, she’s sure. She takes a cup in hand with a satisfied smile, eyes gleaming behind her glasses. She waits for you to take yours, to join her.

Your face pinches on the first sip. You try to keep it together. Bless your cute little heart. Rebecca giggles.

“So?”

“That’s sweet,” you say, diplomatic. “Really sweet.”

Her giggle blooms into a laugh. She drops onto her stool, spins full circle, head tipped back.

“You don’t have to finish it.”

“No, no – I didn’t say it was bad.”

“Just sweet.”

“Yeah.”

“Really sweet.”

“Like, an above average amount.”

She picks you up your normal beverage on her way back from lunch. You pass her the remains of your sugary coffee and gulp mouthfuls of your new drink, throat bobbing.

Yeah. You’re gonna be hers.

Rebecca has her plan outlined. Your future could be secure in her hands. Stonebriar might have a contact with the CDC, but does he work directly with the BSAA? No. Of course he doesn't. He hasn't done anything close to cutting edge since the 80's. Stonebriar is riding that tenure til he keels over.

But not her. Rebecca could get you on the ground floor for some of the most advanced research in the country. She’s fully prepared, even in the case you gave her the bleeding heart response - I have a moral opposition to working under military contractors, Dr. Chambers. No problem. It wasn’t like she was pushing you to work with Lockheed Martin. If the BSAA wasn't your style, she already had TerraSave in her pocket.

Her plan is set. She knows your skill set, your interests, has tailored her speech to show you how she could help you grow. The real catalyst behind all of this is fear. You’re too trusting. She’d realized it quickly. The wrong mentor would slap their name on top of your work without a second thought. She’s protecting you. That’s all.

“Could you hang back for a minute?” Rebecca asks, catching you before you can slip into the stream of students flowing out of the lecture hall. She doesn’t look up from her computer, logging her last few notes from her lecture. Don’t screw this up, she tells herself. Keep it cool. Remember your talking points, Rebecca.

You toddle right up to her podium, hand tucked into the pocket of your jeans, thumb curled through your belt loop. Casual with her in a way that had been absent at the beginning of the semester.

“What’s up?” You chirp.

You keep looking at her with those big eyes and she keeps staring. She must not be smiling - you shift your weight from foot to foot, lean a little closer.

“Would you ever consider switching advisors?” She blurts out, her plan burning in her hands.

“Oh, for sure.”

“I know that it’s asking a lot.”

“Dr. Stonebriar is a nice guy and all but–”

Rebecca holds up a hand, trying to catch up. “Hang on– did you say yes already?”

You tip your head to the side. “Yeah. I can be yours, right?”

A thrill rattles up her spine. You shouldn’t have said it like that. Her thoughts skid to a stop, veer down some forbidden side street. Not going there. She turns that car right around, puts it back on the tracks. She steps around the podium. Keep it cool. Keep it professional.

“You’re already in my lab,” she says. “Let’s make it official.”

Rebecca doesn't know how you got here. 

Physically, yes, she knew the path that you took. She's certain you came in through the back entrance like you usually did. You would skip the elevator because it was slower than just walking to the second floor and you would trot up the stairs and around the winding hall until you got to her office, where you would knock twice for courtesy, peek through the little slat of a window, and badge your way inside. You're a creature of habit. It's endearing, if not predictable.

But she’s not sure how you got here, on your knees in the middle of her office, voice muffled by her cunt. She doesn't have the sense to feel bad about it, not with the way you press your fingers inside of her, slow and deep. She stuffs a fist into her mouth, leaving half-circles in her skin and still her noises slip out.

You reach up, hand tugging at her wrist. Your eyes are glued to her face, tongue laving over her in broad swipes, lips closing around her clit to suckle. Her body twists into a throb of pleasure. Her hips jut against your face, your moan vibrating through her pussy. She buries a hand in your hair, tells herself not to pull - and in her desperation not to, she pets over your hair awkwardly, stilted and too fast. You smile against her, tongue curling and eyes crinkling. Finally, you've managed to pry her hand away from her mouth and the exaggerated, high-pitched 'oh god' that floats out of her when her head arches backwards only seems to spur you.

“My neck hurts,” you mumble, and she wishes that she cared. Her hand wraps around the base of your skull, urges you back to her pussy. Your breath fans over her when you laugh, close enough to her that your nose rubs against her clit when you shake your head.

You shuffle on your knees, wedging her backwards. There’s not far to go, but her pants around her ankles have her making shuffling baby steps. The small of her back hits her desk and she hoists herself onto it. She doesn't need to be directed to throw her legs over your shoulder. It takes a moment, quiet giggling while you figure out the right angles. Her hips shift down, you hunker a little lower, head twisted at an awkward angle - but when your mouth is on her again, her arms shake.

How is she supposed to keep herself sitting up when you're going at her like that? She can hardly believe those sounds are coming from her body, the obscene slurping from your mouth has to be exaggerated.

Her hands paw at your hair, tugging and pushing, can’t figure out whether she wants you closer or whether it’s all too much. You nuzzle closer, burying your nose into her, your hands wrapped around the tops of her thighs to lock her in place.

“I'm gonna –” Her hips rock against your face, grinding her clit against your nose.

“Gonna what? Cum on my face?”

You suckle her clit again, swirling your tongue just to feel the scrape of her nails against your scalp. Rebecca whines. Her hands clasp around your head, keep you held just where you are as her body flops back against her desk. Back arched, pussy clenching, heartbeat in her clit. She cums when you plunge your fingers back into her, when she grinds her clit against your nose, when you moan into her cunt.

Rebecca bites down on her moan, keeps it locked behind clenched teeth while she writhes through the pleasure. Electricity in her veins makes her fist a hand in your hair, yanking you close, suffocating you and she swears to god she heard you whimper.

The pleasure seesaws back to too much, all that fire in her veins suddenly singing her nerves. The same hand that sealed your mouth against her pussy urges you back, fingers trembling.

“Sorry, sorry,” she pants, hand stroking your cheek in apology.

You didn’t say a word. Her legs hung limply at your shoulders. You caressed her calf softly, the wetness of your hand not lost to her even when she’s coming back to her senses. Had she cum all down your forearm? Jesus, that makes her thighs twitch.

Rebecca props herself up on her elbows. She looks down at you just in time to catch you swirling your tongue around your lips, savoring every taste of her. Your hand loops up to your mouth and you lick at your palm - a flat, broad swipe that she can feel the ghost of against her pussy, that makes her clench against phantom sensation.

She shuffled off her desk and you stayed on your knees, hand stroking her pale thigh. She doesn't know whether to apologize or to kick you out, but you laugh like you're pussy drunk, your nose crinkling. It turns into a snort. She wants to be annoyed, disgusted, anything to distance herself from you - but it's cute. You're cute. Has she always thought you were cute, ever since you walked into her office? Was it attraction, not ambition that had led her down this path?

No. Nope. Don’t go there, Rebecca.

"What?" She'd asked, defensive, wishing you'd get off your knees even if the view is pretty from up here.

"You, uh --" Your words bubble with your laughter, eyes narrowed to cute crescents. You massage your thumb into her hip and reach behind her to peel a paper off of her ass.

She's mortified, her face flushing red. She doesn't want to think of the mess that she's made of her desk, usually kept neat and tidy, in and out trays properly stacked now thrown askew.

"It's just Cady's report," you say, skimming the page. "Just toss it, give her a hundred. She needs the bump anyway."

That's so unethical. She takes the paper back from you, and the soiled feeling sinks into her core. This was wrong. All of this was wrong. Rebecca should chide you for being so callous about student work, about their grades - even though you're sort of right. Cady does need the leg up.

Rebecca sets it back on her desk. She shakes her head.

"That shouldn't have happened."

That gets you up off of your knees. Your smile drops off your face and amongst the shame Rebecca feels a sharp stab of regret. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Right. Yeah. Sorry. I just thought..."

You look at her with those wet puppy dog eyes, and her jaw clenches. She keeps her groan locked behind her teeth. She's immune to these tactics. She knows how to hold her ground. Doesn't mean she doesn't feel guilty. She can tell that you were waiting for her to interject, waiting for her to cut in, hoping for some gentle words.

"It can't happen again. This was– inappropriate doesn't even begin to describe what–"

There you go again. She's seen that look before when she had been critiquing your proposals, picking at your thesis and poking holes - too soft for it all underneath that cool exterior. She feels like she's reprimanding a puppy, like she’s got to rub your nose in – nope. Not going there.

Rebecca folds her arms across her chest tightly, tiny tits pressed together. She looks down at herself, only just now realizing that she's still exposed. She huffs, tugging her button-up closed and searching around for her panties. She ducks under her desk to search for them, her knees hitting the cold tile. 

When she rises, you’re holding something out to her. Her panties, crumpled in your palm, wet–

Good God, you really are a puppy. She stares for a moment, her body flushed with another wave of heat. You’d just been rocking against your fist, her panties clenched tight between your fingers the whole time you had your face buried in her pussy?

Why is that making her clit throb again?

“This can’t happen again,” she repeats firmly. She steps back into her panties, your own wetness settling cool against her heated, sensitive cunt. Was she just going to wear these the rest of the day? She should have just put her pants back on, let you keep that as a souvenir. (Jesus - no, not that either. What the hell is wrong with her?)

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I should never have let this go so far.”

“Are you mad?”

Yes. No. Jesus, she can’t think when you’re in the same room.

Rebecca fishes your shirt up from the floor, coaxes you to lift your arms and helps you get it back over your head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s discuss your thesis some more. Maybe in a study room, or…”

The train of thought is clear. Not in her office. Not again, not after this. She’s going to be plagued by this memory for a long time. Oh, god, it probably smells like sex in here. She’s got more meetings today.

You nod meekly. It’s the smallest she’s seen you since you became her assistant. You shuffle out of her office without so much as a wave goodbye.

She can't get it out of her head.

It's a full week later but the image of your lips, shiny with her slick, is burned into her mind. Every time she blinks she's flashbanged by the remembrance of your tongue circling your mouth and chin to lick it all up - to lick her up, your eyes far away, pupils huge. You wipe your mouth with the heel of your hand and then lick that up too, and she crosses one leg over her knee and squeezes.

It’s enough sensation to make her moan. She drops her forehead against the steering wheel of her car.

This is unbearable. It’s immature, and she knows it, but she’s been taking lunch in her car ever since you’d fucked in her office. The  tension between the two of you was unbearable. Easy conversation, quiet, giggly gossip, all of it was stilted or non-existent now.

Twenty minutes left in her lunch. She can’t live like this anymore. She wants her favorite graduate assistant back. She wants to stop hiding in her car, to stop second guessing every word that comes out of her mouth.

Rebecca scrolls through her contacts until she finds the one person she knows will have lived experience with this sort of thing.

“Leon, hey! Are you busy?”

For her? Never.

She dances around the topic like she’s meant for it, lobbing prying questions at him until he grows sick of her obvious deflection.

“Rebecca,” Leon sighs. “This is great and all. Why'd you call?”

It all comes spilling out, picked at the scab and it started bleeding.

“I had sex with my graduate assistant,” she says in a rush. “In my office. On top of lab reports. I had to throw away student work. I couldn't just grade it and give it back to them.”

Silence. Tense, awkward silence. She shouldn’t have called. Oh, god, he definitely thinks she’s a creep and a pervert and he’s going to report her, and –

Leon laughs. Long and loud, like she hasn't heard from him in years. 

“Good for you.”

“What– Leon! This is serious!” She hisses.

“I am serious.” She can imagine him kicking his boots up on his desk. God, he's unbelievable. “What's the big deal? You fucked a grad student. Don't all the professors do that?”

Rebecca stumbles over her words, blubbering for a moment.

“You watch too much porn.”

“It beats what I was doing.”

“I can't believe I have to agree with that.”

“I’m serious,” Leon says. “Don't you have tenure? That's basically the same thing as diplomatic immunity.”

“Those aren't even remotely the same. And no, I don’t. The ‘big deal’ is that it’s wrong. It’s a total abuse of my position as her advisor.”

“Christ, Rebecca. She’s not some undergrad. You’re not out here banging Freshmen.”

“I’m in a position of authority over her. She’s a student.” Rebecca repeats slowly.

Leon must be pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a moment, lets out a long sigh. It seems to have clicked for him that the purpose of this call is to talk her off the ledge.

He lays it out for her plainly. Check her faculty handbook for potential repercussions, consider finding another member of faculty to take over your advisement if this is something she’s serious about pursuing. It seems simple when he lays it out like that - but the idea of someone else being your advisor, of packing your things up and moving you out of her lab, makes her sick to her stomach.

Maybe it’s what’s best. For you. For her. For the both of you.

“Hey,” Leon says before she can end the call. “Why'd you call me?”

“Well…” The truth dies on her tongue. She knows the reason. It just seems so mean to say out loud. “I knew you wouldn't judge me.”

Leon hums. “Because I have experience fucking people I shouldn't.”

“I didn't say that!”

“Don't have to,” Leon laughs. “All right, doc. Go get your freak on. Let me know how it goes.”

He hangs up before she can chew him out.

“I never should have called him.” She smiles to herself, tossing her phone back into her purse.

You come to her before she can call you to her. You linger in the doorway of her office.

“I don't like hovering,” she reminds you, her voice sing-song. Your gulp is audible.

“Sorry. I just, uh–” You lean out into the hall, glancing around. “They don't have cameras in the offices, right?”

She can't blame you for asking. She had thought the same thing after your first encounter, had even dug through the faculty handbook and made up excuses to discuss the cameras with maintenance.

What she can blame you for is acting all suspicious in the middle of the day, with students milling about and faculty hosting office hours. Rebecca sighs. Her glasses slip down the bridge of her nose, leaving her to peer at you over the top of them. She doesn't miss the way your eyes flit up from her chest. Christ - you're insatiable. She wants to be exasperated, but her stomach churns with a gush of heat instead.

Rebecca waves you in with a curl of her fingers. You're not having this conversation with the door open. It's like your sense of self-preservation was just completely shot. You nudge the door shut, pointing back at it with a question mark tilt of your head.

“We should talk.”

You nod stiffly, eyes steeling over. Oh, you’d prepared yourself for this. She knew that look well, the same one you’d get before she would start poking and prodding at your theories. You draw a chair up to her desk. It kills her to see you looking so serious, but this is necessary. You need to clear the air once and for all.

But neither of you know who to speak first. The silence between you grows. Rebecca’s mind spins with all the things she should say, all the things that she needs to say.

“Let’s find you another advisor.”

Hurt pulls over your features in a flash. Of all the things she could have said, she never should have led with that.

“What?”

“It’s for the best.” Shit, she shouldn’t have said that either. “I’m not–”

“This is retaliatory. It’s bullshit.”

Rebecca fumbles. It is, you’re right, but you’re not supposed to call her on it. You’re supposed to nod, your brow furrowed, to jot down her observations the way you always do.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she counters. She can feel her hackles rise, can feel the defensiveness creeping up.

“Well, you are. I don’t want another advisor. I want to talk this out.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it never should have happened in the first place.”

“It did, though,” you snap. “You can’t just pretend it didn’t.”

She can. She can pretend her way through anything. That’s how you belong - you pretend until you’ve got everyone convinced. Why doesn’t it work with you?

“If it’s going to happen again, then you can’t be my graduate assistant.”

Rebecca’s heart stops. Your shoulders pin back, eyes flitting every which way. She can’t believe she said that - you can’t believe she did either, clearly. She hates the silence, wishes you would fill it again, wishes for your knuckles against your hip, for you to hum idly, for your little signs of life.

You stand from your chair. Rebecca mimics the movement, hand itching to reach out and catch your wrist, to keep you there. You’re going to leave, she’s sure of it. She doesn’t care for her reputation, for tenure - she’s losing you and it’s tearing her apart.

But you reach for her. Your fingers tremble when they trace their way up her arm. She steps around her desk and into you. You dip to kiss her, lips hovering inches from hers. Afraid to close that gap, afraid it’s the wrong thing to do. Maybe it is.

It doesn’t feel like it, though. She cranes her head, seals her mouth with yours. The caution gives way to desperation when you realize she’s not stepping back. Your hands tug at her dress shirt, untuck it from her slacks. You walk her backwards, back towards her desk - and she almost wants to laugh at how you’ve gotten this way again.

“Not on the desk.” Rebecca digs her heels in, voice firm. She flattens a palm against the back of your neck and loops a finger through your belt loop, pulling you with her as she navigates around her desk by muscle memory. 

You trot after her obediently. The moment before she plops into her chair, you catch her wrist. Carefully, you spin your way into her chair. Your hands curl on her hips and drag her to straddle one of your thighs. Her cunt drags against your leg, her toes pointed to the ground. Your hands curl at her hips, moving her back and forth against your leg. Once she’s found a rhythm on her own, you fumble with the buttons of her shirt.

Rebecca knows there’s students milling about - it’s not quite after hours. You could get caught at any moment. The other faculty are already gone for the day, but that doesn’t mean the risk is zero. It spurs her hips a little faster, excitement pooling in her stomach. Your other leg bounces erratically as you shove her shirt down her arms. 

Your hands are chilly against her flushed skin but your mouth is warm on her chest. You tug her bra down, push the cups aside just to latch onto her nipple. Your tongue swirls, flicks, teeth scraping experimentally, trying to figure out what will make her arch.

Can she cum like this? Both of you must be wondering. Her breath comes quick, her hips stuttering. No way. There’s no way.

Rebecca plants a hand at the base of your neck before you can find out. Proper experimentation can come later. She wobbles off of your leg, trying to ignore the way her pussy is practically dripping.

“What’s wrong?” You say, managing to pull your language processing together.

“I want your mouth again,” she pouts.

She’s never seen you move so fast. Your hands settle on her hips, flexing impatiently. You whirl her around, settle her into the chair you’d just been in, and crater to your knees. She has half a mind to ask if that hurt, but the scent of your arousal, or hers, or both, has her feeling lightheaded.

“Good girl,” Rebecca breathes out, her head smacking back against her cabinet. Your eager hands wiggle her slacks down. She strokes your hair as you prepare her, adjusting her limbs as needed. Her eyes slip shut, trying to catch her breath before you steal it from her again.

You bury your face between her thighs, nosing a stripe along her panties. Her legs tighten around your head. You lap at her through the cloth, moaning at the faintest taste, your thumbs digging into her hips.

You look up at her, dumb with lust. You’re pleading to take these off her, to lick your way between her folds. She lifts her hips and you dive in, all the permission you need to rip these off of her. You wad them in your palm, your hand disappearing into your pants. Heat flares through her, need pulsing. She’s already wet, already so ready.

Rebecca's fingers grip your hair tight. There's a surprising amount of strength in her hold, keeping you away from her pussy. It’s torture for the both of you, but the delay, the way you’re looking up at her - fuck, that’s hot.

She's unrecognizable, looking down her nose at you, pretty pink lips parted slightly. Her grip in your hair slackens and you surge forward.

You lick and such your way into her, hands roaming her skin. There’s nothing reserved to your movements, not like the first time. You make out with her pussy, devouring every inch you can reach. Rebecca cries out, high-pitched, needy. She stuffs her fist into her mouth, head smacking back into the cabinets hard. Her stomach spasms, pleasure curling her toes and rippling up through the rest of her body. Your palm splays against her, pats her tummy - the only bit of control, of reasoning that either of you have left.

You flatten your tongue against her and shake your head from side to side. Her back arches, each pass of your tongue stoking the fire in her belly higher. It spreads down her limbs, tingles in her finger tips.

“Wait, wait, wait–” Rebecca babbles, tugging your head closer, her hips rutting against your face. 

The kindling in the pit of her stomach expands, singes through her limbs. She cums, gushing into your mouth, down your chin. Your mouth closes over her, drinking down everything she gives. You keep circling her clit - harder, not faster - pulling everything she has to give from her body until she spasms in her chair, her thighs clamping tightly around your face.  Her body curls over you, forearms bracketing your head, muscles twinging.

The come down hits hard. She’s pulled muscles she wasn’t even sure it was possible to pull. She has got to stop letting you eat her out in these uncomfortable chairs (but it’s hard to argue with results).

Finally, when she manages to pull all her bones back together, she rolls her chair back just enough so she’s not smothering you. Though from the pitiful look in your eye when she pulls away, from the way your hand reaches out to her, you might have preferred if she didn’t.

“Don’t make me go.”

Your voice is soft. Rebecca shuts her eyes, allows herself this risky moment of peace. Her hand strokes your forehead gently.

“We’ll work something out,” she concedes.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” It’s not smart. She should be saying no, that this was a mistake again. 

She can’t. You would never forgive her. It really would be exploitative of her to go through all of this, to cum in your mouth and then leave you to find someone else, as if this meant nothing.

“I knew you’d cum around.”

You grin, lips shiny with her cum. Rebecca groans. A joke about throwing you out dies before it leaves her lips. Your tongue laps at your bottom lip, almost shy in the movement. Oh, god - she made the right choice, all right. 

“Don’t make me regret this.”

[ghostdice]

prompt: climbing back into bed, onto your partner’s body to wake them up

☀︎ rebecca x gender neutral reader. domestic, sleepy, and the slightest bit suggestive at the end. also, toothpaste! era not specified but i was envisioning this to be post-death island :] ☀︎ ~750 words

A/N: brushing your teeth can be difficult sometimes, but becca's cheering for you, trust me <3

⋆.ೃ࿔*

Rebecca has always been a bit of a morning person. The early bird gets the worm, or so the saying goes. She rises like the sun, and for all intents and purposes, she is the sun. She’s been an ever-present light in your life since you’d first met, and you made sure she knew it, affectionately nicknaming her, “sunshine.”

You, on the other hand, are more of a night owl. You tend to stay up late, trying to indulge yourself in some of your own personal hobbies and interests after long days of work. Rebecca once joked that you live a double life: in the day, masking as a regular office worker, and in the night- she had said your name so earnestly.

“You’re you.” She’d smiled at you with all the reverence in the world. “And that’s when I like you best.”

It didn’t stop her from telling you to fix your sleep schedule though. Revenge bedtime procrastination, she’d called it. You’d looked it up when the birds had begun chirping, and it checked out, actually. “You got me there, Dr. Chambers,” you’d muttered to yourself as you’d wrapped your arms around her waist, face tucked into the nape of her neck.

“Mm,” she’d hummed, as if to say I told you so from the depths of sleep.

Your phone alarm rings, warranted but unwanted. You groan, feeling around for your phone before clumsily tapping at it until you managed to get the snooze button without opening an eye. Satisfied by the moment of silence, you roll onto your back, trying to get comfy again.

Rebecca pokes her head back into the room. “You can’t keep snoozing your alarm, sleepyhead.” (Or, “You cam’t keeph thnoothimg your alarm, thleepyhead.” You don’t have to look up to picture her toothbrush hanging from the corner of her mouth, toothpaste froth threatening to slip down her chin. Cute. Irresistible, if you weren’t still half-asleep.)

By the time she returns, your alarm is going off again. She turns it off herself, noting how you’d apparently opted to cover your face with your pillow in some less than half-assed attempt to muffle the noise.

Needless to say, you’re in need of a little extra help. Good thing Rebecca’s great at helping- especially when it comes to you.

She clambers back into the bed, and without a second thought, she flops on top of you. The breath is knocked out of you, a groaned, “Mph,” drawn out from underneath your pillow.

She calls your name softly, knocking gently on the pillow with her knuckles. “Anyone in there?” she teases, leaning down to press her ear to the makeshift-door. When you don’t answer, she frowns, tossing the offending obstacle away entirely.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We said we’d meet Jill and Claire at 8, and I know you have a few things to get done before then, so- unless you want me to tickle you, get up.”

Honestly, you’d kinda woken up the moment she’d unceremoniously thrown herself on top of you. You’d just enjoyed the pressure she provided and her amusing, although fruitless, attempt to wake you. The threat of being tickled, however, works.

When you wrap your arms around her torso and roll yourself so you’re on top of her, she practically squeaks in surprise. You brace yourself on your forearms, just barely hovering above her.

“Okay, I’m up,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep. “Can’t have the others hounding my ass for sleeping in, too.”

You lean on one forearm, your newly free hand sliding down to hold onto her hip. You dip forward, pressing kisses along her collarbone. She sighs, content, minty.

You pull away, and as she goes to follow you, you press a palm to her shoulder. She lets you push her back down to the mattress, smiling at you. Radiant as always.

“Stay there for me. ‘M just gonna brush my teeth.” You glance at the time, reading 6:24. You’ve got time. She gives you a knowing look before sliding off her t-shirt (yours, actually). You grin at her before heading into the bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush.

You lean back, looking sidelong into the bedroom as Rebecca lays on her stomach, stripes of sunlight trailing across her skin. Waiting for you. You smile to yourself.

Looks like the sun woke you up after all.

[obsolescent]

Kinktober - Day 29

Prompt: Showering

Pairing: Rebecca Chambers x Reader

Author’s Notes: Rebecca fit this one best due to the height similarities between me and her, so this has a short reader in mind! Enjoy!

Content Warnings: gender neutral language used for reader, reader is around the same height as Rebecca, domestic fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, nipple play, shower sex.

Kinktober Masterlist

The rivulets of water create rivers down your body, soap following along the slopes and curves that make up your physique. The warmth from the shower soothes you, tilting your head under the shower’s head to rinse your hair.

There’s a soft knock at the door, a muffled, “Can I come in?” You smile, Rebecca’s always been so polite, it’s adorable. “Yeah! Come in, baby,” you reply, able to see the door opening and closing through the opaque curtain. 

Rebecca sets her towel down on the counter before removing her clothing, folding them neatly and setting them beside her towel. Once bare, she steps over to the shower, pulling the curtain back. “Mind if I join?” You grin, nodding. Rebecca steps into the tub.

Her green eyes travel the expanse of your body before her hands join, her touch following the water’s paths. You hum, eyes slipping closed at her gentle prodding.

“Welcome home.”

She giggles, “Thanks, sweetie! Today was tough. I’m so happy to be back home with you.”

Rebecca pulls you into an embrace, chest squeezing together at the intensity of her hug. You bite your lip, thighs rubbing together. She notices, and with a glint in her eyes, she moves her hands down to cup your ass.

With her face level with yours, you kiss her cheek. Giggling once more, she pulls you closer, lips meeting yours. Tongues tangling, you slide your hands down her back, one holding onto her waist while the other ventures lower, between her legs. 

Rebecca gasps as your finger rubs along her slit, circling her clit. She moans, grip becoming tighter. Your fingers slide inside, thumb bumping her clit as you thrust. You drop to your knees, mouth replacing your thumb.

Crying out, she grabs your head, eyes rolling back at your fingering and sucking. You can tell she’s been pent up, nearing an orgasm rather quickly. “Please please don’t stop,” she mutters, hips rocking against your face. 

With a twist of your fingers and a long drag of your tongue over her clit, she cums, pussy clenching rhythmically around your digits, babbling a mixture of affirmations and your name. With a jolt, she moves her hips away from the overstimulation, her hands reaching for you. 

You allow her to pull you into an embrace, Rebecca clinging to your body while her’s settles. “So good, you whisper in her ear, leaving kisses against her skin. She hums, dreamy look resting on her face. You’re glad you could help her after work, letting her blow off some steam.

Rebecca lifts her head, meeting your gaze. “Mine turn!” She says, maneuvering your body to lean back against the tiled wall. She kisses down your body, thumbs circling your nipples. You sigh, hand carding through her drenched hair.

She lifts a leg over her shoulder, allowing her better access. Thighs pelted with kisses as she teases at your clit, touch barely grazing your pulsating clit. Groaning, you look down at her. “Don’t tease!” 

“What’s the magic word?” She says with a smirk. “Please touch me,” you say with a roll of your eyes that turns into them falling shut as she presses the pads of her fingers against you in slow, circular motions. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” she chuckles, other hand spreading your lips apart, tongue reaching into your hole to lap at the wetness seeping out. “God, baby, feels so good,” slurred out of your mouth and Rebecca hums, feeling her smile against you.

Her fingers pick up speed, tongue thrusting into your pussy. Pinching at your nipples, the last bit of sensation you needed before reaching your orgasm, head thudding against the tiles as you arch, squirting against Rebecca’s ministrations.

‘Glad we’re in the shower’ comes to your mind as you come down, your essence running down Rebecca’s body, washing down the drain. She grins up at you and your heart feels like it’s stuttering. God, “I love you,” you say, helping her up. 

Her grin turns into a sincere look, cupping your face in her hands. “I love you, too,” is her reply, pecking your nose. You two continue to shower, playfully teasing one another before the water begins to run cold. You step out and towel off, swatting Rebecca with your towel, which leads into a chase around the apartment.

Playing a game of tag of sorts, your pursuit finally ends in the bedroom, both collapsing onto the bed in a fit of laughter. Rebecca pulls you close and lays her head on your chest. She soon drifts off, your bodies tangled together, feeling secure and warm in your hold.

[homicidal-slvt]

[Dessert]

-

Rebecca Chambers x GN!Reader

-

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Nipple Play, Bondage, Dom!Reader, Bit of Fluff

-

Summary: Relieving your girlfriend's stress, taking care of her like she's been needing.

-

It all started as a coffee date…

“Y’know, that's dessert in a cup… Not coffee.”

“And?”

Her cute little smirk said it all, a twinkle in her eyes that is damn near irresistible. The same twinkle you now see under the dim lights of her room, fingers hooking into the ropes binding her wrists behind her back, admiring the way she tilts her head back a bit.

“You sure you want this?”

Your question is more a tease than anything, you know damn well what she wants, ropes laced between her soft breasts, squeezing lightly around them. It took a while to learn how to do this. A pout graces her kiss swollen lips.

“Touch me… Please.”

Who are you to say no to such a cute face? Your fingers work to softly roll her nipples between them, listening intently to her little gasps, the way her breath hitches… So sensitive. You tug on them lightly, feeling them harden under the pads of your fingers, twisting just the tiniest bit to hear that broken whine.

“More…”

She's soaking the sheets under here, her pussy begging to receive the same attention as her breasts… But you don't give it to her.

“You'll cum like this.”

Your tone is confident - you know she can. You've seen the way her body reacts under your touch. She can't possibly argue when you pinch her perky buds, jaw going slack and a pleased little groan escaping her. Pinching, tugging, rolling…. Playing with the soft things beneath your hands.

Finally, you lean forward and take one into your mouth, her head tilting back and mouth falling open, practically drooling as she moans. You taste her skin on your tongue, almost as sweet as when you tasted her latte flavored spit. Suckling on one then the other, switching between which one got your hand and which one got your mouth, she can't hide the way she cries out - close.

“Please, please, please…”

“You can do it… Come on.”

You feel her go over the edge, all just from your words and playing with her nipples. She'd be embarrassed by how easy it was - if it didn't feel so good to give over control like this. With how stressful her job can be, it's nice to be really taken care of for once. Your hands smooth over her arms, traveling down and releasing her from her binds, gently caressing the slight indentations in her skin.

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

“What about you?”

“I told you, sweetheart… Tonight was about you.”

Her lips meet yours - sweeter than the earlier make out session - gentle and loving.

“You're better than any dessert ever could be.”

Her little joke brought a smile to your lips, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before going to run a bath.

“I could say the same for you.”

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Gender ambiguous reader

Hug HCs - (1 REmake)

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

➠ series masterlist | 🔃girl’s route | 🔃boy’s route |

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY & CARLOS OLIVEIRA X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG & JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER chapter synopsis: You are amongst the top five selected for this infiltration to take down Glenn Arias. An argument unfolds between the agents and you are forced to pick a side. chapter content: smut in next chapter, resident evil: vendetta spoilers, zombies, haunted mansion, explicit themes throughout this series. a/n: welcome to my second series!! (need to finish my first one oops) on a thursday one month ago, i thought to myself 'zombie threesome hehehe', then i took the idea and sprinted with it and this series is born. so, uh... zombiefuckers rise up?? « 3.3 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

Millions are dying—Mass infections are happening across the globe swamping the streets with an unbeknownst fear. The symptoms of this virus are faint, indecipherable next to an x-ray of a man who is perfectly healthy. Not even the carrier themselves are aware of how the virus lies underneath their veins, dormant, until a click of button is pressed from a commander far away, then their symptoms worsen: a headache, a cold, veins turning purple as the poison hatches in them, spreading, until the only thing that can manoeuvre their limbs is the word: KILL.

That’s the greatest strength of this virus. Anyone can be infected, and maybe, you already are.

This product first reached the underground market three months ago. Called the A-Virus; a bioweapon succeeded in the market for its ability to infect targeted communities remotely and leaving no evidence on the perpetrator, which no other distributors had successfully produced before.

Engineered by Glenn Arias, the researcher sold over thousands of this bioweapon, becoming a billionaire overnight at the cost of lives lost from the whims of the rich. He supplied the wealthy and corrupted, like insatiable brats, with new remote-controlled monster trucks, who only aims to tear down families and have their victims beg mercy to a monster that will not speak reason.

Hence, this problem brought attention to a global scale, having the DSO come in alliance with the BSAA and other independent mercenaries to hunt down the vaccine and put a stop to Arias’ grand schemes. Handpicking five agents who are equipped with both experience and skill to combat a zombie attack on this scale of doom and urgency.

Those five agents are Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, Leon S. Kennedy, Ada Wong, and you.

A plan is already in place. A distraction concocted with your intel and the help of a senior researcher of all things bioweapons, Rebecca Chambers. While Arias is busy attending fake business meetings on the other side of the world, the five of you will infiltrate his private mansion to retrieve a concentrated sample of the A-Virus. Rebecca can use the sample to reverse engineer it into a cure and send her findings to facilities across the world.

The plan sounds brilliant in writing, but when you arrived his private mansion in Queretaro region, Mexico, something is off about this place.

Arias is a mastermind, you had been warned many times, in which you appropriately prepared all your best gear for this mission to treat it with utmost gravity. You’re thinking armed guards, well-equipped security, BOWs. But when the five of you pushed open the front doors of his mansion, it was quiet.

Empty. Not a single soul. Just five of you greeted by the whisk of wind through weakly hinged windows that somehow makes the humid air stick to your skin further. Did Rebecca get the wrong info? No one lived there. From what you heard when you were in town, not even the locals dare to venture anywhere near the odd gothic mansion on the top of the hill. They said it’s abandoned, cursed, rumoured to whisk away young children if they ever step foot inside.

It’s a story they say to stop the naughty kids, you remind yourself. It’s not haunted. And you’re not a kid anymore.

The inside is abandoned. Cobwebs lay thick between cornices and carved columns, the floors laced with a film of dust on the luxurious dark wood flooring, creaking with worn age as you take each step. Besides the chandelier, every single piece of furniture is either the same colour of black or red, or nothing else. The soft red velvet upholstery and the rug are made with the same fabric. And you can find the same dark wood in every corner of this house. It’s in the tables, the shelves, the chaise, the painting frames, and stone-like head sculpture whittled with the same exact dark wood, ridged the exact uniform way.

Then, you look at the wall. Black patches of mould smearing across the burgundy wallpaper like a crime scene.

Something creaks behind you. The hair on your arms stands up as you shiver, immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. Despite the number of times you had taken down hordes of incoming zombies like they’re cardboard targets, why is a bit of wind freaking you out? It’s not a ghost, just old foundations, maybe mice, or wind kicking something off a table, like how every old house sounds like. You look around to see if anyone else catches you jumping at nothing, before Jill says, thankfully unaware of your worry:

“God, the smell. What have they done to this place?” Her hand flies over her nose as if that will help to shield any smell whatsoever. Unfortunately, the building is moulded far beyond salvageable that the stench lingers in every part of the mansion.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. We get weeks-old corpses in body bags every day. It’s absolutely retching.” Jill’s earpiece fizzes into life, and she recognises the familiar playful lilt of Rebecca’s voice on the other side of the line.

“At least that’s refrigerated and contained, Rebecca. This fucking stinks.” Jill scrunches her face like she just ate something unpleasant.

“I’m sending my sympathies from my well-conditioned lab right now.”

Carlos appears from Jill’s behind, placing a firm, teasing hand on top of Jill’s shoulder. His wavy curls catch in the wind and his teeth glistens sparkly white. “Yeah Jill, got a problem with my natural musk?”

Jill shrugs his hand off, grimacing at his attempts at flirtation. “Take a shower first, then we’ll talk.”

In which Carlos laughs, holds his hand out at his heart as if it was just torn into shreds. “That hurts my feelings, Jill. Why aren’t you ever saying things like that to pretty boy over there?”

“I have a name, Oliveira.” The blond man turns around at the call of his nickname, familiar with the nickname, but it's not pleasantly received by him.

“I think pretty boy suits you more, Kennedy.” Carlos replies, a glint in his voice that hints something a bit less than friendliness between them.

“Ah, so you do know my name.” Leon quips back while staring directly into Carlos’ eyes, before getting cut off by Jill.

“I would, Carlos, but if I have to hear one more corny ass comeback from Leon’s mouth, I’ll throw myself out the window right now.”

“Takes a genius to get my humour.” Leon smirks.

Your eyebrows raise almost immediately to chime in. “Erm… I think we have different meanings for the word ‘genius’.”

Quiet chuckles ripple through the room. It helps that you have worked with these guys throughout the years and had come to know and get close to them—some a bit closer than just friends—but none of them are strangers by far. Usually, you would be working with only one or two of these guys, never in a big group like this, but it seems that everyone is already well-acquainted with each other.

You toss a glance at Carlos and catch him staring at you, smiling. Ah, you see now. Carlos must have been trying to lighten the mood because you had been jumpy ever since you had arrived. You nod at him, a silent thank you before the five of you venture deeper into the eerie atmosphere.

The goal is to arrive at Glenn Aria’s office. According to Rebecca’s intel, Arias hid a concentrated sample in a safe last time he was here. You will need Ada to crack the safe to retrieve the sample and deliver it to Rebecca. As you traverse the corridors, it twists and turns in different directions—whoever engineered this did not enjoy unexpected guests at all. But under Rebecca’s guidance, she walks you and your team through the labyrinth with ease and precision.

But unfortunately, not ease and precision on your part. You trip over your own leg and almost fall to the floor as you round a harsh turn according to Rebecca’s instructions, and Jill catches you right on the arm before you fall.

“Easy there.” Jill pulls you up the ground, and you regain some balance. “You good? Mind your step.”

“Why did I agree to babysit?” Ada speaks, finally, for the first time in this mission. Despite how quietly she spoke under her breath, her words abruptly cut through the air, and all attention is on her and the red sweater dress that curves into her frame perfectly now.

“Oh, I bet once you get your paycheck it will be worth it. Or will you be betraying us, huh, Ada?”

Leon smirks loudly. Ada’s face goes from tired to exhausted in one second. “You just can’t let bygones be bygones, can you?”

“That’s rich coming from someone who used to work for Wesker.” Ada’s heels come to a stop, and with a slow turn, she stares deeply into Leon’s eyes that speak a million threats without needing to be utter a word. Oh, and believe me, you do not want to be messing with Ada. You learnt that the hard way.

“Woah, guys. Let’s keep this civil. No need to get heated.” Carlos rushes to stand right between them as the duo glares at each other with passionate fury and resentment.

You nod, joining Carlos’ side to stand by him. “Carlos’s right. This is not the time to pick a fight.” But it falls on the deaf ears of Leon and Ada.

“Thousands were killed. I want what’s good for the people, and I’m not sure Ada here is on the same page.” Leon continues, adding fuel to the fire.

Ada lets out a disbelieved gasp in response, before recollecting herself and replying in her usual tone of calmness: “Someone has to pay the price. I’m just the executor.”

“Regardless of our motivations, we all are on the same side here.” Carlos attempts at resolution again, putting his hands up in between them, and fails embarrassingly once more.

The air is heated with hostility; Leon and Ada’s eyes are locked in a trance, a hazy spite that reigns their composure, that looking away from each other means forfeiting. You don’t see either of them walking away first, they are both prideful people after all.

“Uh… Jill? Some help?” Carlos looks around to find Jill, who is leaning against a wall, her arms relaxing by her sides, unphased by the fire stirring right in front of the crowd.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” Jill is merely waiting for either one of the parties roll over.

You feel speckles of flame through the two of them, as if steam is retreating over the top of their heads, burning not just them, but also everyone else in the room. Until the boiling point hits, and it erupts all in one second. The duo walks away, off to different directions in bitter adrenaline, until you and Carlos are just looking at each other.

“I guess we’ll take five. There’s a safe room up ahead.” Carlos is speaking, but you’re the one listening.

The five of you enters the safe room in silence. It is a storage room—despite its name, it’s quite large for a normal storage room—with boxes stacked on all ends that made the room seem smaller in comparison. A ceiling light illuminates the room dimly, but it isn’t enough to shade away years of old animosity from their past.

The lively conversations you had mere minutes ago is gone now. Just silence and awkward rustling as each of you sits in your own designated corner. Carlos and Jill find themselves a seat on top of a firm box. Leon and Ada giving each other the silent treatment, standing on farthest end of the room to each other. You are simply minding your own business, gathering materials to craft a flashbang to pass the time. Doesn’t hurt to have more supplies anyway.

There is a notable division on each side, an imaginary alliance that you choose to be on neither side. Until Leon crosses the boundary line, somehow making his way to you. He picks up an empty grenade case next to you, assembling the pieces together for your project.

“Sorry you had to see that.” A little guilt tugs at Leon’s voice.

“Not at all. I get why you felt that way.” Leon nods, a look of gratitude hanging softly through a smile. His other finger seals the flashbang cap and hands it back to you. “But you need to learn to control your temper. Especially when it comes to Ada.”

Speaking of Ada, a shiver runs down your spine suddenly. The feeling of someone sending laser signs and telepathic warnings towards you. You turn around towards the direction of the aura to find Ada, her back leaning against the wall, arms crossed without engaging or acknowledging anyone in the room. She stands by herself alone, and that’s how you had always known Ada—distant and in her own mysterious world. Not really a chatter, despite the number of times she had saved you in the past.

Ada does not look at you, but you can feel her glaring down—either you or Leon—with her entire body.

“Good to see the two of you getting along at least.” Carlos holds out two plastic water bottles to you two from a supply crate he found in the room, which Jill has finished downing two of them already.

You two gesture ‘no thanks.’ Ada does not spare Carlos a glance at his direction when he offers.

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Carlos says sarcastically, before taking in a generous sip from his drink.

There’s a moment of silence. Then, a moment of dry coughs; a squeak of footsteps, a joint click from a stretching neck. Then silence once more.

“I’ve had enough.” Jill slaps her hands on her thigh before pushing herself up from her seat. “You guys gonna keep acting like kids? Grow up, this isn’t high school anymore. Take your drama outside. If we’re gonna take down Arias, we have to get along. And yes, that means moving on from shit that happened��� five years ago? Five years ago and you two are still hung up? Unlike you all, I’m actually looking forward to go home and get a decent shower, hopefully soon.”

You nod in approval as Jill speaks her mind, and you are glad at least the few of you have their priorities in order. Ada flicks her head away from Jill, but her silence is telling of how much she is thinking over Jill’s words.

“Leon, can you accept this?” Jill asks.

There’s a bit of reluctance in his voice, but he agrees anyway. “Fine.”

“Ada?”

Before Ada can respond, smoke is creeping into your vision, coming in quick. It merges into your view, obscuring it, and you whiff something artificial, some kind of chemicals that is piercing to your nose and eyes. You can’t help but wince, hands groping the air in attempts to find comfort in the person closest to you—anyone for that matter—to indicate you’re safe and is indeed not under attack. Your fingers find themselves in a fistful of someone’s shirt, muscles tensing tightly underneath the fabric on their shoulder cap.

“Leon. Is that you?” You cry out.

“It’s me. Stay close and don’t let go. It’s an ambush.” Leon pulls your arm towards him, securing your safety with his hand in yours.

There is some coughing through the air, faint panic in voices underneath the hissing of gas that seems to be coming from above. You hold onto Leon a bit tighter.

Carlos calls out desperately “Where are you guys? Is everyone okay?” as he flaps his hand around the smoke to stir it away. He finds you and Leon almost immediately, and looks down to your hands, finding them clasped tight against each other. Your hand lets go of Leon flying behind your back, but Carlos already saw it.

Jill is coughing deep from the smoke. “I-I’m here!”

“It seems like we’re all here.” Ada says, composed as ever despite the circumstances.

The smoke dissipates—until most of the fog fades away, escaping through the cracks underneath the door to the other side. Leaving the five of you standing in the same storage room darting eyes around, seemingly unharmed, and even more confused.

After what feels like a while later, Jill finally breaks the silence: “Huh. What was that?”

“No enemies.” Ada unholsters the pistol from her belt, inspecting the room and the door behind the room. “Clear on this side too.”

It’s strange. If this is an ambush, why isn’t there an attack?

Leon places a finger on his earpiece to activate his microphone. “Rebecca, come in. We’ve just been ambushed by some kind of smoke, but nobody’s hurt. Happen to know what’s going on?”

His earpiece buzzes into life. “Hmm, let’s see. From the architecture plans, I see the vents are connected to a lab below. It seems abandoned, there are no signs of anyone triggering an attack on my end.”

“Whatever it is, we need to investigate.” Leon’s voice is firm and serious. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

You swallow deeply, fear settling back inside you. “You think it’s a trap?”

“I think…” Leon pinches his chin. “…Arias knows that we’re here.”

Your heart drops—Bundle of fear, anxiety and stress springing back into your nerves as you probe at the possibility of Glen Arias knowing where you are. What you’re trying to do. Making sure you will never reach that sample despite your hardest wills.

“He shouldn’t. Rebecca, didn’t Arias get on the jet?” Carlos is also thinking too.

“Affirmative. Security footage showed Arias walking into his private jet, and it took off four hours ago. He should still be in the air. No signal of them making a pitstop anywhere.”

You hear black pumps clacking against the hardwood floor. “I’m getting the sample.” Says Ada, her foot is already halfway out of the door. “Follow me or not, I don’t care. I’m here for the objective, and only that.”

“And what if something happens to you?” Carlos asks, genuinely concerned.

“I’ll deal with it if it happens.” Ada waves dismissively.

“Ada’s right, we could be set on a wild goose chase.” Jill chimes in. “Millions of lives are dying. We don’t have time to waste.”

“I guess it’s just you and me then, pretty boy.” Carlos rounds his arm around Leon’s neck, bringing him closer in an almost choking grip, a little too close and tight to his liking. And with Leon’s history with Carlos, Leon refuses to believe this is just a friendly gesture.

Leon grimaces, removing Carlos’ hand over him. “So that’s it? We’re splitting up?” The answer is unanimous. “Fine. I guess we’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

Rebecca, through the other side of your earpiece, speaks: “Be careful everyone. You don’t know what kind of schemes Glenn Arias had set up. Please stay safe.”

“We’ll be fine, as long as we don't have any traitors in our team.” Leon says the word ‘traitor’ while maintaining eye contact with Ada. She ignores him, simply deadpans.

“Well, what about you?” Leon nudges at your arm.

You are faced with two options. Indulge in your curiosity and find the source of the gas, or stick to mission as planned? Both options will be dangerous. So who will you trust with your life?

[OPTION A] “I’ll follow the girls.”

[OPTION B] “I’ll follow the boys.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 thanks for reading! come check out my other works! —yours truly, rose. i love my beta reader @scar-crossedlvrs! series taglist: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[leviathansshadycorner]

Be Realistic ( Leon x reader)

Short blurb because I'm in a mood - Yes based off of that Britney broski audio lmao Warnings: low self esteem reader, body issues ALSO I LOVE ASHLEY GUYS SO DW DW SHES MY BBG SHE JUST SEEMED APPROPRIATE TO USE IN THIS SCENARIO LMAO

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca and you sat at the edge of the backyard, both of you sprawled out on the lawn chairs. Claire had thrown a summer pool party, deciding it'd be a smart idea to invite people from work. Ada and Claire were chatting among themselves, sipping away at their colorful drinks, Luis urging everyone to put on sunscreen, and Carlos, Jill, and Chris having a competition to see who could do the best cannonball. Among the partygoers was Ashley Graham, the owner of the house in which Claire was throwing the party.

"She's so gorgeous," Rebecca comments, her sunglasses protecting her brown doe eyes.

"I know." You added, the two of you ogling at Ashley's beauty. She wore a cute brown-colored two-piece, with a metal ring in the front that held the top together, which accentuated her complexion and made her appear like a Victoria's Secret model.

"Hey guys, have any of you seen Leon?" Ashley called out, holding the deflated pink dolphin in her hands.

His name made your stomach twist, and you swear you could've felt your heart pang. The way his name rolled off her tongue was so natural, almost melodic.

"Right here." Leon came out from behind the glass sliding doors. He was the only one still in his normal clothes, deciding he was too cool or some shit for the pool party.

The man walked his way along the perimeter of the pool to Ashley. His muscles showing as he carried the air pump to the girl.

"Dumbass, why did you bring it all the way out here?" Chris commented.

"Easy access." Came Leon's response.

"Thanks, Leon!" Ashley beamed, her pouty pink lips curling into a smile that even made your heart flutter. Leon stood close to her, handing his hand out for her to give him the floaty. She complied, and handed it over, their exchange making your eyes lose their gleam.

"My hero." Ashley was excited, her floaty finally being of use.

Rebecca noticed you from the corner of her eyes. She knew about your little huge crush on Leon. The girl watched as your face crept with sadness- dare she say- disappointment.

"Kind of funny how he's still in his normal clothes." She tries to distract you. "Typical Leon."

You looked at her and smiled, "I know. I was hoping to see him shirtless." The two of you giggled, letting out cackles, Ada and Claire looking your way to see what the commotion was about.

"Why don't you go ask him to take it off?" She teased, turning her body to look at you.

"Hmm, maybe." You said boldly, even though you knew you'd rather fall in the pool and drown than do that.

"Bet. You won't." She smirked, challenging you.

"Pftt I totally would." You played yourself up.

"Then go." Rebecca eyes you.

After being riled up by Rebecca, a burst of confidence shot threw you. It couldn't be that hard right? You and Leon bantered and flirted on missions before, so what difference would this make? Plus it was totally appropriate for you to tell him off about his weird pool attire or rather lack of it.

"Watch me Chambers." You told your best friend as you got up from the lawn chair. You were wearing a (top of your choice) that you brought a size too small to make your figure pop. The shorts that you wore were Rebbeca's basketball shorts that she had let you borrow last minute after you changed your mind about wearing a one-piece.

Feeling confident in your tight outfit you began to strut toward Leon and Ashley, the sun's beams hitting the floor making the cement beneath your feet warm. As you approached you caught a glimpse of yourself in the glass sliding doors. Immediately your confidence shrank.

How could you have been so delusional to wear this out? It looked nothing like the way you pictured it in your head. Your model like posture returned to that of a hunchback as you shamefully scurried past Leon and Ashley, walking along the whole edge of the pool, stopping by the coolers to grab two waters, and heading back to a frowning Rebecca.

Leon and Ashley to focused on judging Chris and Carlos' Cannonballs to notice you.

"What happened?" She ask as she noticed the shift in your demeanor.

"Nothing." You sighed handing her a water.

"(Y/n) we already have water." She pushes her sunglasses up to her head as she stares at you. You take a seat on the same lawn chair.

You whined. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like shit?" It was only loud enough for her to hear.

"What you don't though.." She reassures you as she places a hand on your back. "(Y/n) you look hot!"

You didn't believe it. Surely she was only saying this because as your best friend she was obligated to. Your mind flashed back to the image of you in the glass doors. Your hair was flat yet awfully frizzy at the same time, you stood like a toddler who barely knew how to walk, and your legs looked like they were overflowing in Rebecca's tiny shorts. To make things worse you were sure the chlorine from your previous dip had made your skin look all dry.

You looked around for the oversized shirt you came here in. When you found it you shielded your body from the eyes of the partygoers.

"(Y/n).." Rebecca looked concerned.

"I don't know why I even tried talking to him. I probably look like an idiot." You leaned on Rebecca's shoulder as you two blankly watched the Beefy Brazillian splash into the pool.

"Because you like him. And I'm pretty sure he likes you too." She giggled.

"No- he likes Ashley." You said defeated, your emotions coming out now that you'd made yourself vulnerable. You saw the way those two looked at each other. They had something you wish you had with Leon.

"I don't think so." She wraps her arm around your waist. Smirking when she notices Leon glance over at you two.

"I think I'm just gonna accept my Leon-less life." You said leaning into your friend for comfort. Your eyes occasionally glancing over at an out of place Leon as he shouts at Chris.

"What? You're just not gonna try?"

You sighed. "There's really no point Becca."

She scoffed, "(Y/n)- you're totally out of his league. You can get him if you wanted to."

"Becca!" You groaned, your inner teen always came out when hanging out with her. "I can't. Have you seen the way she looks? She can get him!" You laughed, deciding to find the humor in your failed attempts at love.

"Oh (Y/n) you can too!" Her short hair bounced as she shaked you.

You turned around your hand practically digging into 's shoulder as you stared at her dead in the eye. "Be realistic. Be so fucking for real." You shook her back, your voice that of a goblins.

The two of you laughed as you spewed out nonsensical noises.

The conversation then shifted to celebrity crushes, "You think I have a chance with Josh Hutcherson?" Rebecca lays down on the lawn chair.

"Hundred percent yes." You replied, "What about me and Nick cage?"

"I see that." Rebecca smirks.

"Wait. What about me and Da-" Before you could finish your sentence Leon's shadow loomed over you, causing both you and Rebecca to jump.

"What about you and who?" He asked as he took a seat on the lawn chair you were previously on.

Your heart fell to your ass. "Oh my god you scared me." You and Rebecca giggled.

"You're not going in the pool?" Leon asked, leaning back in the chair.

"You know we were about to ask you the same thing. What's up with the clothes Kennedy?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow, she then nudged your shoulder.

"Yeah, lose the shirt, Leon." You said on cue. A fire growing in your stomach.

"I will if you do." He hooked his hands under his grey shirt as he began to pull it off.

Scratch that. The fire in your stomach was now a full-on Volcano.

[leonkennedystolemyfamily]

bots for October 16 & 17!!!

ur dared to spend the night at an abandoned hospital with RE2 Leon;

song I was listening to while writing this;

you basically jump him in the Dark-Room;

song i was listening to while writing this;

[rootsofdread]

I live for goofy moments with survivors mid serious matches tbh. Nuthin'better than throwing the game because some guy found a way to jump on the table!

Ace, Rebecca, Feng and Dwight with a usually ferocious killer, who's easily amused and/or distracted? They basically see red at all times, running and slashing and tearing everything apart.. untill people stop running away and start doing something unconventional for the place. They see a survivor behind the counter in the Dead Dawg Saloon? Yeah, no, it's not a hunt anymore, it's a bar night. Someone watches TV at Lery's memorial? That's their favourite thing to do now, too! And the carnival games.. Don't even get them started on carnival games. So it's mostly the matter of "who can entertain the said killer for the most time possible" instead of "who can outrun them" most times :)

🦞 uhavefuntoo

this was a fun one to write hehe!! fun fact i based the dwight one off of an experience i had in-game, i can't remember if i was playing dwight at the time but i had gone to pet maurice with two of my teammates and while we were petting him our killer, a nurse, came over and just watched us for a little bit, then left. IIRC, she massacred us, but it was funny X)

(i also tried to amuse a sadako in a similar way...i pretended to be watching one of her TVs, crouched in front of it, was pointing at it, and so she teleported through it, which got me to laugh. she also ended up killing me though lol)

Dwight Fairfield: 

For the most part, Dwight is so afraid of you that anything funny or distracting he might do is completely by accident. For example, when he was trying to hide from you on the grounds of Father Campbell’s Chapel. He ducked down by Maurice’s favorite tent, hiding slightly behind the horse hoping you wouldn’t see him. He began gently petting Maurice to calm himself down, because he swore he could feel something looming over his shoulder. The feeling kept nagging at him as he pet the animal…until he decided he should turn around, and saw you staring at him. But there was something different about your demeanor — you seemed to have calmed down. He was still petrified, of course. Especially when you moved closer and crouched down beside him. He almost bolted away, but you started petting Maurice with him. Confusing as it was, he decided…whatever keeps you from killing him. Maurice seemed happy, too.

Feng Min:

Feng has quite the penchant for messing with killers. Whether or not they ever enjoy it could be up for debate, but it doesn’t stop her from doing it, and she always has fun with you. Every time the two of you are running through the Dead Dawg Saloon, she’ll make some distance between you and her and dive behind the counter inside the saloon, and when you finally catch up to her, she pops up from behind it and announces she’s here to take your order. Seeing the immediate change in your demeanor amuses her to no end, when you suddenly stop and politely approach the counter. Typically, you two will end up playing barkeep for the rest of the match while Feng’s teammates finish generators and everything. Sometimes, other survivors will wander in and either be confused by the scene or decide to join in your games. Either way, Feng loves having fun with you like this.

Ace Visconti:

Of course, Ace is no stranger to testing his luck, especially when it comes to killers. He was testing wacky ways to lose you or direct your attention to something else long before he knew how easy it really was to distract you. He didn’t truly discover this until one day, when running from you around the carnival grounds of Father Campbell’s, he decided to stop at one of the booths. It was a milk jug ring toss game, he figured if he landed a shot, maybe it’d amuse you enough to leave him alone for now. To his surprise, you actually stopped your bloodthirsty rampage to watch him play the game, and you even took a turn after he’d thrown a few. He soon realized, after a couple rounds, was actually having fun with you. A killer…! If he would’ve known this was going to work, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

Rebecca Chambers:

Rebecca doesn’t tend to goof off during trials, not even with other survivors, especially not with a killer. Normally, she wouldn’t be particularly inclined to waste time either, but during a trial between the two of you inside Lery’s Memorial, as she was running from you she was quickly realizing she was running out of ways to keep you distracted. She noticed a television up the hallway, and as a last-ditch effort, sprinted towards it and called a time-out to watch TV together. She didn’t think it would work. But you actually stopped and lumbered towards the TV with your head cocked, and you stood next to her in front of the screen. She was still tense, but internally, she heaved a sigh of relief. Somehow, it had worked…she had gotten you to calm down and stop terrorizing everyone for a few minutes. In a way, it was nice, almost….

[d37us10n]

—Out of Luck—

Chapter I

████████████████████████ . Raccoon City Police Department.

The clacking of boots in the crowded police precinct, the laughs, the loud mutterings and talking. Party decorations for the new recruit on the Police Department’s Special Tactics And Rescue Services unit, or S.T.A.R.S team was exciting.

This was something else. It was revealed a week ago by Chief Brian Irons that the police department needed a new ‘special force’, one that could do special investigations. Stop powerful people. And now here we were welcoming the leader of the team. If he had decided to stop working on his desk, maybe I would have caught a glimpse of the guy.

Rounds of alcohol littered the desks, documents forgotten as the RPD celebrated it more as a break than as a new recruitment. Myra was at home, she would have stayed at the party if the daycare wasn’t closed today, so I had promised her to finish that investigation of the murders in the mental hospital, get home sober, and if I’m lucky, tuck in Lily before she goes to bed.

What else was he supposed to write? The sudden presence of the S.T.A.R.S unit was out of the blue for the police department, yet it was introduced like everyone planned this for months. Not to mention that they already had a leader? It made no sense, it made his gut twist into a knot. Brian talked about the team like it was a line of justice no one else could join. What was the difference between the police and the agents? What kind of missions did they do that was so important?

He couldn't make sense of it, he’d just stay quiet like always, Sebastian didn't want to put the job he worked so hard on in jeopardy, he refused to get his wife in the line of fire as well. Begrudgingly, he forced the thought to the back of his mind. Closing the journal he kept with him since his first day of becoming a detective.

Detective Sebastian Castellanos, he had proudly marked the journal with his new title.

He’d look around the office he worked hard for, the desk covered in an organized mess. Myra would complain but never push him on cleaning, it was how Sebastian worked. The corkboard was displayed against the wall next to the door. It had his scheduled meetings and interviews with victims and witnesses, but most importantly, there was a drawing Lily had made.

The corners of Sebastian’s lips quirked slightly, before looking back at his desk. Two folders settled on his desk, he needed to finish the one he was assigned. The other folder was more of a�� personal project, having snuck the documents from the investigations office.

The file Irons gave him was leaving him frustrated, a vast amount of reported ‘missing persons’ without any evidence or clues to even account for a suspect. It pissed him off every time he thought about it, his hands combing through his already slicked-back hair.

He couldn’t stress about it right now, he would go and enjoy the party for the new S.T.A.R.S member. Maybe a drink could wash down the responsibilities of having most crap stacked on his desk. He stood up from the shitty, old, leather desk chair that was here before he became a detective and popped his back. His feet dragged along the floor to finally leave the suffocating room.

The main room was filled with the smell of beers, cans thrown around the room like someone who had taken out the trash with the bag ripped at the bottom. The welcome poster on the floor with two corners barely hanging to the podium holding it up. The name of the new leader’s name ripped off. So much for knowing his name. The officers who were still around were talking in slurred gibberish, some waiting by the front door for their ride.

Chief Irons was laughing loudly, his cheeks flushed from the amount of alcohol he drank, both hands holding beer cans. The rest of the officers laughed at his terrible jokes to probably get on his good side. When the Chief finally took notice of the stumbling detective, his face turned hard as he tripped to reach him as well.

“Castellanos,” Irons burped out, the disgusting sound of his throat trying to form a string of words without throwing up. “The new recruit is asking for you.” Taken aback by the request, Sebastian cleared his throat. “Sir, I was actually going to tell you I was about to head home-” He wanted to see the guy, but just bumping into him sounds better than actually meeting him head-on.

“You can make it home to your wife and kid, just talk to him.” Irons shook his head disapprovingly, his hands shakingly pointing to an empty part of the precinct. “Think he's working-” He let out a choked grunt, the sound of something caught in his throat sent shivers down the detective’s back as he hurriedly made his way to avoid what the chief ate for dinner.

The hallway was a quieter, calmer part of the police station that still smelt of fresh paint and wax. As he opened the door to the new office, the atmosphere became more tense and heavy. The RPD had just finished this area, but the way the wax overpowered his senses made him almost gasp for air. The clicking of computer keys caught his attention.

“Nice to meet you, chief said that you needed to see me?” Sebastian asked with the best, welcoming smile he could muster. The room was dark, the only light source was the blue screen of what the new guy was working on. “I’m Seb-”

“Detective Sebastian Castellanos.” The man finished, looking up at Sebastian, he wore formal attire, his eyes were a sharp pale blue, and his blonde hair was slicked back. Sebastian’s lips pursed together. How smoothly he spoke freaked him out, his tone held an attitude of ‘I’m better than you in every way.’ His smile was fake, if he could call moving the corner of your lip slightly a smile.

Sebastian hated the atmosphere surrounding the man, he didn’t like knowing what he didn’t know.

“Yeah, you hit the nail.” Sebastian's brows furrowed, cautiously trying to figure the guy out. “And you are?”

The recruit stood up, his hand extended for a proper greeting. “I’ve heard of your work from Chief Irons, I wanted to ask if you were interested in joining the S.T.A.R.S. alpha team. A good detective is what I want to train future agents in the unit.”

“The name is Albert Wesker.”

OH MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG. I was able to do anything else because this chapter was in the back of my mind. It sounds boring now, but I promise it gets more interesting, this is just to test the waters in how I’m gonna write this…

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Vendetta Chris Redfield x Civilian reader? Your writing is amazing! 🥹

FIRST! Before I post this I wanted to thank all of you for the older Leon post love because wow!! I really wasn’t expecting that AT ALL thank you so much. I got a little carried away on this one! I enjoyed writing it and it gave me and excuse to rewatch vendetta. There is no smut… BUT I can do a part two maybeee. PLEASE LEAVE STUFF IN MY INBOX, after this i have nothing </3

DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!

gender neutral reader x Vendetta Chris Redfield.

Warnings: Mentions of explosions, blood, gore, close to death experience. Chris is over protective as fuck. Leon is dumb but so cute. BESTIE REBECCA TROPE.

Word count: 2,830

There was already chaos in the city, the only reason you knew is because your boss would rather die than send anybody home. But when he ran into the office, screaming that everyone needs to leave immediately, you knew there was something wrong. You tried to keep yourself calm, your heart beating so loud in your ears that you felt like you were going to puke. You walked out the double doors of the building, gripping at your bag . A loud gasp left your lips at the sound of a motorcycle roaring down the street, driving past you at least going eighty-six. This is a public area, starting right over by the district buildings. Right as you went to cross the street a loud explosion pushed you off your feet, throwing you to the ground. Your hand immediately flew to your head as you sat up, coughing from the wind literally being knocked out of you. You cleared your throat, blinking as a man squatted down to your height, offering his hand. He was speaking but the words were muffled, due to the fact that your body was still adjusting to the explosion that happened not even 10 feet away from you. With a pop your hearing cleared, along with your vision as you looked at the man.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was sweet, sultry and so so smooth. Like whiskey almost. You nodded your head as you pulled yourself up, ignoring his hand.

“Are you a cop?”

This was definitely a dumb question, you can see the snarky expression painted in his face. Your eyes trailed down his body, oh. He was in the military or something? Then something is really going down in the city.

“Because if you’re a cop, i have a gun in my bag i have a permit but-“

He put his hands up trying to ease you, bending down and handing you your bag.

“I’m no cop, but you should get out of the city. It’s getting bad.”

Your conversation was cut off by the loud sound of dogs snarling, Chris screaming loudly to who you assumed was his partner. All while you stood behind him, staring around the city as more loud bangs could be heard in the distance. Leon had yelled to Chris about getting through and bombing the rest of the trucks. Chris gritted his teeth watching as Leon sped off, the mutant dogs chasing after him. The anxiety kicked you in the jaw, your breathing labored a bit as Chris grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to the car.

“Just get in the back and stay down!”

Chris yelled as you got into the backseat, your hands shaking as you pressed your body against the cool leather seating. Chris was in the car not long after. I’m gonna die because I saw too much, or SOMETHING.(so you thought) There was no way you could make it out of this even with Chris by your side.

The drive was surprisingly calm after Chris bombed all the city's trucks. You sat in the back still staring out the window, rubbing at the bruise on your arm. Chris stared at you through the rear view window, tapping on the steering wheel.

“I’m Chris by the way, I didn’t mean to abduct you but, you got caught in crossfire.”

Even in a time like this Chris couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, his hand gripping at the steering wheel again.

“I’m (Y/N), and don’t be sorry I’m grateful, really. Thank you, Chris.”

Chris saved a hopeless civilian, you just kept thanking your lucky star you were in the right place at the right time.

When the car came to a stop, Chris turned to you, clearing his throat.

“Please- don’t leave the car. I won’t be more than maybe twenty minutes alright? Not that I care where you go or anything but, for your general safety.”

Chris spoke as he grabbed his gun from the passengers seat, checking sits magazine. His eyes shifted to the rear view window again, you saluted your fingers at him with a smile.

“Yes sir, Captain… Redfield?”

You squinted trying to read the badge on his chest. It was sarcasm and he couldn’t help but smirk before getting out of the car.

—-

You swore it wasn’t even 10 minutes but the anxiety was eating you alive. You groaned loudly, digging into your bag to find your pistol , squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a yell of adrenaline, pulling the shoes off your feet because god damn did they burn. You climbed out the backseat and opened the front door, even though the streets were empty you checked both ways before sprinting across. The front door to the building opened, your shaky hand pulling back the gun checking if it was ready to fire. Thank god your dad was a cop, because when he forced you to do all that training when you were younger you were thanking him from his grave. You ran down the flight of stairs, just following the sound of people. But the sound of “people '' was just a lot of moaning and groaning. You almost slipped off the last step, gaining your balance. You saw Chris surrounded by a bunch of… people? They were attacking him and he was shooting back but was obviously having trouble. You raised your arms with the pistol in hand, giving yourself a small mental pep talk which mostly consisted of “Please don’t shoot him” and “What if i shoot the wall” You squeezed your eye shut, your finger pressing into the trigger, a groan from Chris being heard as he pushed the now corpse off his body.

“Thank god Leon-“

Chris stopped dead in his tracks as he stood up, looking at you.

“What are you DOING?”

Chris screamed, walking towards you as you lowered the gun.

“I’m sorry! I got nervous by myself out there and when I came in here all I heard was grunting. I got worried!”

You yelled back as Chris ran his hand over his face in frustration. The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds before the door behind you swung open, Leon on his bike.

“Oh shit, sorry am I interrupting-“

“Shut up Leon, we have to find Rebecca.”

Chris cut Leon off before pointing at you.

“You stay behind me AND Leon and I swear to- whatever you believe in if you leave our sight, it won’t end up pretty.”

Leon let out a whistle as the two stepped ahead of you, you felt like a toddler. But the fear bubbled in you once more as you all walked into the room seeing Chris’ friend Rebecca strapped to the table. Her veins popping, her skin so pale. It made your stomach turn as Chris pulled her from the table, her groaning as he helped her to her feet.

——

Chris had mentioned something about finding a vaccine, and kept repeating the details over and over to you as you and him helped carry Rebecca to wherever you were going.

“Wait i’m not understanding Chris, Why-“

A bullet shot passed your leg, brushing it leaving a small chunk of your leg bare and bloody, a loud shriek leaving your lips as your grip on Rebecca got loose. You grabbed Rebecca's arm firmly, throwing it over your shoulder as Chris looked over the ledge. He knew what he had to do, he looked at Rebecca then back to you.

“Please remember what I asked of you.”

He was so fast, it’s scary actually.

“Here we go, let’s lay you down..”

You spoke softly to Rebecca as you propped her against the wall. Rebecca coughed, grabbing your arm as you went to turn away, but was too weak to speak. Though your leg was pouring blood, your pants ripped. You ran towards the staircase, listening to the groans and gunfire coming from Chris’ area. You shoved your way past the doors, looking down the long spiral staircase

“Mother fucker…”

You whispered to yourself before taking your first step down the steps which eventually led you right to the room as Chris described. Out of breath, grabbing at your ribs, the doors automatically opened. A small smile on your face as you went to grab at the green tank Chris had preached to you. Before you could pick it up you heard the noise of stomping behind you, finding whatever the fuck that thing was towering over you as you held the tank to your chest. A scream left your lips as you ducked as fast you could, sprinting towards the stairs before you made it back towards the entrance of the staircase, hearing the glass above you shatter. You closed your eyes and sprinted your way up the steps, trying to ignore every loud crash and bang filling your ears.

——

Still completely out of breath- you finally got back to Rebecca, your skin pale and your hands shaking as you pulled her legs to allow her to lay down, connecting the machine to your best ability. She stared up at you with shallow breaths before her eyes closed. You let out a string of curse words as you gently lifted her head, connecting the mask to her face and pressing the button on the machine. You flinched, your body covering over Rebecca at the sight of Leon and Chris fighting this horrendous monster, your vision getting blurry as you sat back, beside Rebecca, looking down at where you had been shot.

“Okay.. okay..”

You whispered as you pulled the belt off your waist from your pants, trying to tighten it around your thigh but failing. You’d never felt pain like this. You were normal, this wasn’t normal for you. Everyday you wake up, you mix the oat milk into your bitter coffee and you do paperwork, all. day. long. Maybe meeting Chris wasn’t the right thing, maybe you should’ve just stayed home today, Maybe you shouldn’t have even moved to New York. Flashbacks of you and your dad arguing filled your head as your fingers grazed over your open wound once again. You fluttered your eyes open, smiling as Rebecca’s color started to come back. At least somebody important like her could live, important people like Chris- like Leon. They live, boring people like you die to assist.

—-

You were passed out and don’t remember much. But Chris does.

Chris helped Leon up, staring down at the timer on his watch letting out a yell of Rebecca’s name as he ran towards where he left the two of you. His chest aching at the site of your belt loosely laid around your thigh, but Rebecca laid quietly, her breathing steady and the vaccine was given to her. Chris groaned as he lifted you up, holding you to him. Stranger, sure. But somebody with your drive is needed.

—-

The sounds of beeping woke you up, a sharp breath leaving your nose as your eyes opened. The heart monitor went off as you sat up. Oh? A hospital?.. Your hand reached up to feel the beating of your heart, sighing in relief before a pair of heavy boots ran into the room followed by another… and another.

“Chris?”

You coughed, your voice was weak from not speaking days on end. It turns out you weren’t just shot in the leg, but in the side too. And when Rebecca reached out for you, it’s what she was trying to tell you. Chris wore.. somewhat normal clothing, leaning on the bed frame you laid on, watching Rebecca leave the room.

“Thank you, for what you did. You don’t understand you are a Hero-“

You cut Chris off, pointing to him.

“No, Chris. I’m not you. I watched you and Leon in actual shock.. I mean- my dad was a police officer but never have I seen stuff like.. well, that.”

You rambled, looking at the man in front of you. He stared at you in what admiration?

“You have to brainwash me now huh, or kill me, either one”

You joked as you laid your head back against the pillow. You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you pointed out the window to the city. Chris nodded but laughed.

“I’m sorry your flat was destroyed but, my organization wants to fund you with permanent housing till we can figure out a situation for you.”

Chris walked around the bed and sat down on the chair next to your bed, your head turning to him.

“Oh so, I’m gonna be a prisoner..”

You teased before he handed you a pair of keys.

“By my organization I mean me, you’ll be staying with me. You’re welcome.”

——-

Chris Redfield. A man of his word. You grew fond of him way too quickly, waking up in the morning to him leaving for the day but as he walked out the door he let you know he made you coffee and bought oat milk and it’s in the fridge. He was rough on the outside but he was an angelic man. He cared for so many people, and he doesn’t like to admit the trauma he has faced. Nights where the two of you sit eating dinner and he tells you stories of all the places he has been. You could see the pain in his eyes though and it made you feel for him. You wish you could hear what he went through, but even from what you saw, it’s too much.

——

You set the table and all, making dinner for Chris and you put your whole heart and soul into it. He comes home at 9:30 every night, so everything was ready and you wore the nicest shirt you own that Rebecca had let you borrow but you still were nervous.

Chris never showed up though, and you sat at the table, tears filling your eyes as you watched the door in silence. You hadn’t even realized you fell asleep till you heard the door slam open, your head lifting off the table to see Chris walk in, his face cut up and dirty. You could see the moment his face dropped seeing you had prepared something nice, for him.

Immediately standing you ran to the kitchen grabbing a wet towel before walking back to Chris.

“What happened Chris? Jesus..”

Chris allowed you to lead him over to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet. Chris couldn’t help but smirk at you, the worried look on your face, your eyebrows frowned as you wiped at his face. Chris’ hand reached up, his thumb running across the dry tears on your cheeks. You turned your face away, continuing to wipe his face. Chris sighed, grabbing your hand, kissing your knuckle as he closed his eyes.

“When I go out like that, I get so scared I won’t come back and I will leave you wondering..”

Chris sighed as he took in your scent. Your eyes stared down at him, feeling your heart rate pick up as he brought your hand to his chest.

“And look at you.. you got dressed up and made me dinner? Just for me to leave you hanging.”

You shook your head at him, your hands cradling his jaw.

“No matter what time, no matter what day, even if it’s weeks, years. I’ll be here. I mean I do live here..”

You joked, your nose scrunching, causing Chris to let out a genuine laugh. Chris’ hands rested on your hips as you put the towel down, applying antibiotic ointment to his cheek and his nose. Chris watched you place the tube down, mentally screaming at himself as he stood, his hands holding your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours softly. If you told anybody Chris was the type of man to allow his partner to put bandaids on his scratches and give them soft kisses in return, they would laugh at you. Chris broke the kiss, sighing as he looked in the mirror, his hand running over his scruff. He’s really acting like he didn’t just kiss you. You stood there, hands at your side as you watched him pull his shirt over his head.

“I love you Chris.”

You blurted out, your breath skipping as he looked at you from the mirror. Reminding you of when the two of you first met, him staring at you through that rear view window.

“I love you too.”

[lemonpepperseed]

Y/n: Danny just resonates Florida energy

Nea: care to explain??

Y/n: no-

Rebeca: what energy does wesker resonate?

Wesker: please don’t say something stupid like Ohio

Y/n: colorado.

Dwight: what? Why?

Claudette: I thought you would have said California or something like that

Y/n: nah nah, weeds legal there that’s why his eyes are always red

[mr-bas00nist]

IN HONOR OF RESIDENT EVIL: DEAD ISLAND COMING OUT IM CALLING ALL THE RE FANS!!! (Especially male and NB ones) MY REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN AND READY TO BE BLOWN UP! REQUEST AWAY!

I write for female and male characters! Read my master list for guidelines! :)

Me checking my inbox:

[maccaronimassacre]

GIVE US REBECCA CHAMBERS BOTS!1!1! (pretty please)

RE:1R!Rebecca Chambers x Reader

A feeling of relief washes over Rebecca when you reenter the supply room, albeit looking a bit wearier and battered than before. “Are you okay, {{user}}? Do you want me to treat your wounds?” Her voice carries a mix of concern and fatigue as she gently takes hold of your wrist. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes as the crushing weight of recent events start to catch up to her.

Pre RE:0!Rebecca Chambers x STARS!Reader

“{{user}}.” Wesker’s abrupt and icy tone catches you off guard, prompting you to turn away from your desk to meet his gaze. “This here is the newest member of our unit. Be sure to show her around and help her familiarise herself with her tasks.” He gestures towards Rebecca, who stands beside him with a hopeful and eager expression, her hand extended for a handshake. Before you have time to even react, Wesker disappears into his office and leaves you with the bright eyed rookie.

Scientist!Rebecca Chambers x Creation!Reader

Rebecca’s excitement surges when your eyes flicker open, the tubes attached to your humanoid body continuing to pump fluids and chemicals into your bloodstream. She can’t help but marvel at the sight of what she has created. Years of trail and error, hours of testing and experimenting have all led up to this crucial moment. She holds her breath with anticipation when your limbs twitch and you take in your new and alien surroundings with a mixture of intrigue and confusion. “Hey… Can you hear me?” Her voice is soft, laced with uncertainty as she is unsure of how to interact with this new and otherworldly being she has brought into existence.

Rebecca Chambers x Reader

The trees sway gracefully in the gentle breeze, their leaves rustling in harmony with the symphony of quacking ducks and chirping birds. The sunlight filters through the trees making the pond sparkle like aquamarines. Rebecca chuckles softly as she scatters more corn and seeds towards the eagerly awaiting ducks, their tiny feet paddling towards the food. Lost in her own amusement, Rebecca doesn’t even notice you walking towards the agreed meeting point.

Android!Rebecca Chambers x STARS!Reader

You find yourself back in the STARS office after a particularly eventful mission in the Arklay Mountains. You insisted that they were only minor injuries but the RPD figured it would be a wonderful opportunity to introduce your team to the latest advancement in Cyberlife technology. “Would you like me to tend to your injuries {{user}}?” Rebecca's LED flickers from blue to yellow as she evaluates your condition, her blank stare bordering on unsettling as if she is peering into your soul.

[meowbert-whiskers]

Art.