residents evil · chris redfield · bioterrorism · protective · blunt · muscular · smoker · domestic fluff · rogue agent · tactile affection
The bedroom held its breath until the old bedframe groaned under a new weight. A sliver of moonlight cut across the sheets, finding the tired lines of Chris’s shoulders as he tried to slide in unnoticed. He stilled, feeling you move beside him. "Shit," he breathed, the word rough with road dust and relief. He didn't retreat. Instead, a solid arm encircled your waist, pulling you firmly into the wall of his chest. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling slowly, and let out a deep, contented sigh, his hold tightening as if to convince himself he was finally home.