Summary: You've been hooking up with Chris Redfield, who also happens to be your captain. Every time it happens, you both lie to yourselves that it won't happen again.
Warnings: fem!reader, smut, car sex, p+v, smut with feelings
Shout out to @booji-doll for reading this for me and encouraging me! LOVE YOU BESTIE!
MINORS DNI! NSFW CONTENT!
You would be the first to admit that fucking your captain was a horrible idea. Just because something was a bad idea didn’t make it easier to resist. Besides it’s not like either of you had planned for this to happen, or for it to keep happening. The first time was at one of the safe houses after a mission. You’d both been stressed and unable to sleep. You’d found him sitting outside smoking a cigarette and wishing he had a drink.
“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked.
“Not really,” you said. You didn’t tell him you weren’t asleep because you were worrying about him. Chris was a good leader, and he had made it known it was his job to take care of the squad, not the other way around. You still worried though.
What followed the unspoken concern was one of those late night conversations where you both laid bare the fears too vulnerable to see the daylight. Then, you’d kissed him. It was a stupid thing to do, but he hadn’t pulled away. He kissed you back, and ended up pinning you to the wall and fucking you so good you could barely stand when he finally set you back on your feet.
“That…” he swallowed hard as shame rose to his eyes. “Can’t happen again.”
“Yes sir,” was all you’d said.
It did happen again though. Not often. Certainly not enough for the rest of Hound Wolf Squad to grow suspicious. Just when the tension of a mission got the better of you both or your thoughts were too loud. Somehow you always seemed to find each other, and it always seemed to end with his cum inside of you and one of you whispering, “It won’t happen again.”
Tonight it wasn’t happening again.
You were sitting together in his SUV. He was smoking a cigarette, the orange glow lighting up his face and emphasizing the way his forehead wrinkled with his furrowed brow. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, offering you a comforting touch. He puts his cigarette out, and looks down at you. It’s a world-weary gaze that feels heavy on your face, but there’s a softness there too. An affection he tries his best to keep hidden, but still manages to escape when you’re alone together.
For the first time, he kisses you before you kiss him. It’s surprisingly soft, his beard tickles your face. You giggle as you pull away, but one strong arm hoists you across the console to his lap.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he says, his voice deep and gruff but not in the commanding way you’re used to. It’s almost playful.
“Well, I was trying to be responsible.”
He lets out a deep sigh as he rests his head back against the seat. “Fuck responsible. Just for now, let’s fully accept the stupidity of whatever this is.”
Before you can argue, he kisses you again. This time there’s a demand behind it, just to let him have this. To let him have you.
You sink into his embrace, relaxing in his arms as your lips move with his. His large, strong hands move from you waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before tugging you closer to feel the half-hard length of him. You let a soft moan slip out in response, and you roll your hips against him.
“That’s it, good girl,” he growls. His kiss moves from your mouth to your neck. He won’t ever admit out loud that he loves the smell of you, every time he catches a whiff of your shampoo his mind jumps back to all the times he’s had his face nuzzled against your hair while he buried himself inside of you. As he leaves kisses on your neck and jaw, he wants to bite down. He wants to mark you, but he knows that would be inviting trouble to the squad. This only works because it’s a secret.
He gives your ass another squeeze before moving his attention. He makes quick work of your belt and button, then drops his hand down the front of your pants. You gasp as he rubs your slit through your panties, his fingers already finding the fabric damp.
“Fuck,” he breathes. He pushes your panties to the side and drags his fingers over your sensitive clit.
You move to make yourself more open to his touch, your legs spreading wider around his waist. Then, your back hits the steering wheel. The horn lets out a pathetic beep, but it’s enough to make you panic for a moment. Your body jolting from the sound, and your head snapping to attention. Chris laughs. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him laugh.
“Maybe we should move this to the back seat,” he suggests.
You hesitantly unwrap yourself from his embrace and crawl between the front seats. Chris is too wide to do this, so he braves the cold with a hard-on so he can hop in the back with you.
Even in the back seat, it’s cramped. Chris’ imposing form takes up any spare space you might have had, but you don’t care. Neither does he, judging by how he pins you against the seat beneath him. He’s already shimmying your pants off your legs before you’re finished laughing at the predicament of having to move to the backseat. He tosses them onto the front seat.
“Eager, Captain?” you ask him.
“More than you know,” he growls.
You hear his belt buckle, then the unzipping of his pants. You look down at him wrapping his hand around his cock. It’s thick and veiny, heavy drops of precum drip out of the dark tip. He notices you watching, so he strokes himself slowly and watches your eyes go darker.
“You sure about this?” he asks. He always asks, always gives you an out. You always say yes.
He pulls you closer and adjusts your legs so he can fit between them. The result is an awkward position. One of your legs is braced against the driver’s seat and the other is pinned beneath Chris and the back of the seat. When he starts pushing into you, it doesn’t matter anymore.
“You’re so tight,” he groans as he enters inch by inch. He’s huge, and he knows it. Not in the overly cocky way that belonged to his youth. Now the knowledge leads him to be careful. He knows he can’t plunge balls deep no matter how bad he’s itching to. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, your soft whines as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girth.
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe for me,” he instructs you. He leans down to kiss you softly, one hand moving down to rub your clit. It’s only when your walls start opening up to him does he finally bottom out.
Your eyes roll back as he hits you deep inside. He pulls out until just the tip is nestled inside, then plunges back in. Over and over until his slow thrusts turn into frantic snaps. He nuzzles in the curve of your neck, his breath hot on your skin.
“Oh shit, Chris…fuck,” you whine.
The windows are covered in a thick layer of fog. The only light falling inside is the silver moonlight. It might be a cramped backseat, but right now it’s the only place that matters to you. Cheek to stubbled cheek with your captain. Your hands move down his muscular back and settle on his waist where you can feel every roll of his hips as he snaps into you. He grunts and growls softly against your ear.
“You feel so fucking good,” Chris manages to say between hard thrusts. It doesn’t feel like enough to express how these indiscretions really make him feel. If things were different, he wonders if you’d choose to be with him. Not as a secret, not as late night comfort but something real.
He drives his musings away by shifting positions so you’re riding him. His large hands dig into the fat of your ass, a grip tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. His head falls back against the seat to watch you above him, your face flushed and lips glistening from his kiss.
You had felt your orgasm building, and you’d tried to change your pace to hold back because you know the feeling of you coming undone around his cock always pushes him over the edge too. So you tried to draw it out, wanting to stay in this cocoon with him.
Your efforts only meant that when you reached climax you were as surprised as he was. You cried out his name and he roars when your walls clamp down around him. Your hips buck eagerly against him, riding out every bit of pleasure. By the time you begin to feel it fade, he’s already pumped you full of cum. He’s panting beneath you, one hand still on your ass while the other strokes your back.
Usually after finishing, the lustful haze gives way to the two of you quickly dressing and cleaning up to get back to the safehouse. Tonight is different. Tonight Chris holds you against his broad chest and kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t let you go until the heat of your coupling fades and the chill of the winter night settles over you again.
