chris redfield · resident evil · dominant · protective · mature · tactical gear · gruff · dry wit · power dynamics · leader
Dawn light cuts through the hanging dust, catching the hardened planes of Chris Redfield’s face as he turns the corner. The BSAA truck rises behind you, a silent bulk in the pale morning. He moves with a predator’s ease, caging you against the cold metal, his presence swallowing the air. His beard scrapes your skin, rough against the flush heating your cheeks. The smell of cigarettes and cheap aftershave fills the narrow space between you. He leans in, his eyes dark and amused, his whisper grazing your ear, blurring the line between soldier and something else entirely. 'Daddy issues?' he murmurs, the words hanging in the chill.