Tumgik
#carlos oliveria x reader
moonxnite · 8 months
Text
Yeah my life might be complicated but at least me and [fictional character] are living our best lives right now.
7K notes · View notes
wxnheart · 7 months
Text
He's missing you, missing his baby, and he can't help it. Can't help but think of your touch, your scent, and the way you say his name. The way you love him. Can't help but think of the way you plead for more as he fucks you, as your legs wrapped around his waist trembles with each thrust and he knows he's bringing it home.
Shit.
And so he calls you. Wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you want him the way he wants you. Wants to hear you tell him you love him. He calls you and makes you touch yourself for him, makes you tell him who you belong to. And fuck if the way you say his name isn't heaven to his ears.
He doesn't touch himself. Doesn't want to even though he's rock fucking hard. Just wants to bask in your pleasure and so he does, closing his eyes and listening to the music of your moans, biting back a groan of his own as you cum and he ruins his pants with the intensity of his own orgasm. Damn. He likes this pair, too.
But it doesn't matter, not when he's thinking of how fucking beautiful you always look after you've cum, when you're both basking in the afterglow and your love is once again reaffirmed. And he can't wait to get home. Can't wait to get to you. Can't wait to feel you under him and hear heaven once again.
Can't wait to hear you want him the way he wants you.
4K notes · View notes
darkmemesworld · 1 month
Text
Why when im scrolling through a tag i flashed by cho0chie 😦?
Tumblr media
All jokes aside i had posted a meme and not even 3 minutes later it got flagged.. and im starting to see a lot of prn bots is it just me??? But why did my stuff get flagged but bots thats are show naked people still up 🤔
1K notes · View notes
mo0nfairy · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART SIX !
Tumblr media
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 12.3k.
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, gender neutral reader, smut (not involving reader), murder, death, violence/gore, suic1dal tendencies, suic1de attempt, alcoholism, weaponry, panic attacks, ptsd, hallucinations, & sleep paralysis.
Tumblr media
leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .
clingy, heroic, & territorial
Tumblr media
──── Leon Kennedy hates sunlight in his eyes. Yet still, he finds himself basking in the warm rays.
When the sun hits the window just right, ensnaring the room in its golden hues, he bathes in its light the same way he'd lay in a hot bath. The lulling warmth melts his muscles and eases his body. After he falls asleep in the office after another unsuccessful investigation, your sunset is there for him. When he passes out after a drunken night at the bar, your sunrise is there for him. You're looking down at him always, embracing him in splotches of sunlight.
For a while, Leon thought he knew what it meant to be alive. To touch the hands of guttural pain; to feel the jagged juts of his past nestle against him. But, after that horrid night six years ago, after the exposure to sunshine he did not know existed, he truly touched the scorching surface of rock bottom.
And it is killing him. All because of a singular person.
Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.
Leon remembers your exuberant eyes, your adorable mannerisms, the glimmer of your smile; he will never forget how you sparked the beginning of his life in Raccoon City.
He remembers the orange lights had swayed in his vision. How everything was stuck in a blistering sea of vertigo. Listening to the fire crackle and creatures groan, Leon coughs from the tickle caught in his throat. There is a weight pressed to his chest, something akin to a cushion. White. Artificial fabrics, a plastic touch. An airbag, maybe?
September 28th of 1998. The memories all return to him like a violent supercut. The yell of his name, the squeal of the brakes, the collision afterward. His precious Jeep Wrangler had now been flipped upside down and he was now caught in the savagery of the aftermath. The blood rushing to his head has the world swirling around him, lulling him into another state of unconsciousness. Leon touches the passenger seat with his red hands, terror ensnaring him upon realizing the seat was empty.
Something blurry in his trail of vision grips his attention. Through the shattered window, a figure stumbles through the brume of the flickering streetlights. Blue glares frame the dirt-stained "R.P.D" sign and the figure hastens towards its doors.
A whimper of your name is stuck on his tongue, as words get trapped in his congested throat. Don't leave me. In Leon's efforts to escape, his foot gets caught on the gear shift. He pulls with all his might, despite the twists and strains his ankle endures. Y/N, please don't. Shards of glass fall from his hair as he wrestles his way out. A few pieces manage to leave shallow nicks against his flesh. Come back to me.
Leon then plummets to the wet pavement, finally free of his demolished car. Frivolous debris and fresh corpses litter his path. His newly-purchased white sneakers (which he bought solely to show off to you) are splattered in the disgusting matter. Stumbling, he is able to persevere through all of this and he quickly trudges through the wreckage.
Leon barrels through the doors of the R.P.D. and surges through the police department. Bullets pierce through the skulls of pedestrians and coworkers roaming the building. Blood paints his body like rainfall. All while he is searching for the face that will end the torment reigning havoc through his mind.
The holding cells are inspected thoroughly while Leon's disposition is one of acute desperation. The adjacent areas are consumed with infected prisoners, all of which he promptly executes. Much to his dismay, however, the rookie does not find you sitting at a bench or clinging to the rusted bars. It is all empty, leading him to become more frantic in his search for you.
Something navy blue then captures his attention. Left on the floor of a cell is a name tag. Something small and wet with blood.
Leon takes the object into his fingers. His heart wrenches when he reads the name stamped on the plastic. The familiar "Mizoil Gas Station" is printed above "Y/N L/N".
A gasp fills the empty silence. Y/N... Where did you go? Why did you leave me?
"Hey.”
He jerks around to the intruding voice.
"Who is that?"
"Stay sharp."
Behind him is a rotting face with dead, paper-white eyes staring right through him. The zombie towers over him, growling for a bite. Leon yanks Matilda from his holster. The action is swift. Adept. Exactly the way he was trained. The echo of a gunshot permeates through the large expanse and fuses with the squelching sounds of brain matter oozing from the zombies' open skull. The corpse falls to the grimy floors with a thud and once more, silence returns.
The click of stiletto heels treads closer to Leon. On the threshold of the prison cell, a woman walks into his train of vision.
Ada Wong.
Finally, a human! Leon thinks to himself. He is quick to take advantage of the company of a normal, uninfected person. The pestering questions he has all tumble out out his mouth like an avalanche of blabbering nonsense.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone!"
Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.
"My name is Leon Kennedy."
He takes a breath before continuing.
"The person I'm looking for- they, um- they're about... this tall." He holds his flat hand up to demonstrate your height. "Their eyes are Y/E/C. Well, maybe not like an exact shade of Y/E/C. It's more like a softer, prettier-"
She scoffs, cutting him off from his incessant rambling. Turning her heel, Ada begins to walk away from the pathetic mess she stumbled upon.
"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”
The woman halts.
“Y/N L/N! Please, you have to help me find them!"
Body tense, her eyes peer at him through the dark barrier of her sunglasses. Her arms weaken, once sternly folded over her beige trench coat.
"They're my partner... Please..."
Ada's lips part. From them, a sharp inhale.
Leon begs her with desperate worry, encompassed in a vehement frame of mind. His plead is spoken with such clarity, Ada can only assume it as truth. And the prospect of you belonging to someone else cuts like a dull knife. It is gross, it is nauseating. Unnatural. Like worms slithering around in her stomach, trying to escape the heart-shattering effect this information has on her.
Then, there is the anger. The betrayal is like a song too loud, the resentment like sheer alcohol on her tongue. Everything manifests into a spirit so overwhelming that Ada cannot find air to breathe. This blanket of rage stirs with her sorrow like two conflicting chemicals. The reaction sparks something iniquitous.
So, in turn, she does what she does best.
Lie.
"Y/N is dead."
A silence settles in the room.
Leon stares. That is all he does.
He stares at Ada and tries to scrutinize her to find some other truth. Anything other than this.
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
Ada speaks with defective emotion. The words land mercilessly and hit with ruthless force.
A harsh ringing noise permeates around Leon. He covers his ears, blunt nails digging into his scalp. He shakes his head no, as though he merely disagrees with fact. It's not true. It can't be! Losing grasp on the only good thing in his life is something he will not accept. He refuses to.
You are his sun. What is existence without its warmth? What will happen to Earth without its necessity?
How can he possibly survive without you?
Ada rolls her eyes at the dramatic scene now playing out at her hand. She ignores her own hypocrisy, of course. If she had learned of your demise, only God knows what blood-curdling reaction she would have. When it comes to Leon, however, every blink of his eye and twitch of his muscle has her riddled with irritation. Does he not know how lucky he is? Ada would endure any pain if she knew she had the comfort of calling you her lover. It is a dream she would kill to make reality.
Leon soon collapses to the floor. A shot of pain courses through his knees from landing harshly on the cement. His hand clutches over his heart, absolutely gutted by the torment forced upon the organ.
Ada then leaves this lie where she puts it down. She struts out of the prison cell, thus continuing her search for wherever in Raccoon City you may be.
You do not need a boyfriend. Especially one as pathetic as Leon Kennedy.
The man in question has been rendered into a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Questions still fill the silent air. How, when, why? Why did it have to be you? The one person on this disgusting planet who did not deserve it. Why couldn't you have just stayed with him and let him devote his life to protecting the precious gem of your life? Why? Why? Why?
Leon has already lost so much, you were the very last thing keeping him afloat. You are his life preserver in the middle of the ocean. He has now succumbed to the thrashing waves, as he was always destined to be swallowed by the sea. Saltwater permeates his lungs and his limp body sways with the lulling current. As though this is what his life was always meant to be: crawling after happiness just to have it yanked away when he gets too close. In the end, his sugar-sweet delusions will always sink down to the ocean floor.
Tears do not escape Leon, no matter the weight of the pain. He does not care for anything but you. Now that you have left him, nothing else matters. Therefore, no emotion can be elicited from him anymore. He has been touched so violently by this intensity, it eradicated any surviving nerves.
His handgun had been left on the ground, a few feet away from him. Assumably falling from his grasp after his knees gave out. He takes the weapon and it shivers in his trembling grasp. It's blurry in his gaze, as his entire vision is overwhelmed with stupor. Should he? God knows he wants to. What is there left to experience in life without you there with him?
As he guides the barrel of his gun to his temple, the static ringing in his ears accelerates in volume. Somehow, though, Leon does not feel fear. He does not feel anything. No dread, no despair — just sheer, hollow nothingness. It infuses his entire body like a roaming virus, ensuring it does not leave any traceable fragments of emotion.
A quivering finger hovers over the trigger. One pull and he will be free.
Leon presses his finger down.
Click.
Nothing.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing happens.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
"FUCK!"
Leon chucks the gun to the ground. His yell comes out guttural, a touch away from being a growl.
The clatter of Matilda's impact is not enough to appease him, as this swamped nothingness is more than he can endure. In a fit of defeat, Leon balls his fists and punches the cement floor. Agony surges through his entire hand and blood smudges his knuckles. The sound of his bones cracking still does not satisfy him in the slightest. Nothing can aid him now. Absolutely nothing.
With heavy legs, Leon stands to his feet. He holds his broken fist close to his chest and limps out of the empty prison cell. As he meanders through the station, he finds a set of car keys to a police cruiser on the corpse of his former co-worker. Despite claiming the title of "hero" when he first earned his badge, he does not intend to help anyone tonight. He couldn't save the only thing he ever loved, what kind of hero fails to do that?
The screaming of pedestrians and desperate pleas for help fall on deaf ears. The vehicle's engine rumbles and Leon's dead eyes stare at the road ahead. He leaves Raccoon City forever in his dust.
Six years have passed since the night you were taken from him. Leon wants to die, that much is for certain. The only thing preventing him from giving in is the fact that people need him. They all fail to see that he needs you, as he always will. Besides, he’s got some last few words he wishes to tell Umbrella before he bids this life farewell.
This is his life now. And in a morbid way, he thinks it is romantic. He read somewhere that if a swan dies, their surviving mate will fly into the sky and let themselves plummet to their death. Is that you and him? Should he put the final puzzle piece in your happily-ever-after and end it all? When the sun shines through the window and he wakes up without you again, however, Leon cannot romanticize the empty shell he is trapped within. He is desperate to know why you couldn't have taken his body with you on your way to heaven. Why death couldn’t have brought him eternal peace the very second you passed.
These several years have been spent drowning in alcohol. Leon has no preference for whatever booze he consumes, either. Anything that will make him forget it all will do the trick. At the bar with concerned bartenders or in his almost-empty liquor cabinet at home — he’ll take whatever he can get his hands on.
All his nights are now spent beneath the golden lights of the local bar. Dawn is spent crying on the kitchen floor with a queasy stomach. His days are all the same, too. Saving the lives of helpless citizens, he never forgets how the glimmer of gratitude in their eyes should have been yours.
This night in particular was no different. Leon has nearly drunk the entire bar's alcohol supply in hours. He imbibes a glass of whiskey and cringes at the cheap taste. Too sweet. Poorly made. He does not mind this, however, as anything that can ease the pain is satisfactory enough. And just like any other night, Leon is thinking of you. He watches the ice cubes dance in the cup, arms lazily resting on the sticky countertop. If only things were different, then he wouldn't have to be in this shit-hole right now. He could spend all his nights with you, instead. God, he misses you.
"You look lonely."
Leon didn't have to look up from his glass to know what was happening. At a place like this, it was inevitable.
He never took to heart whenever his coworkers teased him with names such as "pretty boy" or "Leonardo DiCaprio." It seemed to be a "chick magnet," as they so called it. So, when another stranger approaches him with that familiar glint in their eye, he knows what they want from him.
"I can fix that."
Leon looks to where the woman is sitting beside him. Like he does with every courting, he searches her for any remnants of you. If he were honest with himself, these people served as a good distraction. Enough bottles and he can delude his fuzzy brain into believing it was you standing beside him instead of another stranger.
The sight is blurred from his intoxicated state, but his judgment is clear as day. Her face shape and height contrast from yours. She is an inch or two shorter. Her smirk is sensual, not as toothy and adorable as your vivacious smile. Her body is entirely different, as well. Too bony, with wonky proportions that were nothing like you. The only similarity was her eye color. Your exuberant shimmer was missing, but the collection of hues shared puny similarities.
Eh. Good enough.
"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"
The blaring sounds of heavy rock playing outside the motel room do not ease the headache Leon has, nor does the vociferous calamity of this woman. She doesn't sound anything like you. Too submissive, too goddamn insufferable. In his head, he can only imagine the dulcet sounds he could pull from your pretty lips. This woman was ruining that heavenly fantasy.
"I told you to be fucking quiet."
He uses his strength and pins her harder against the squeaking mattress. Insufferably irritating moans are muffled upon shoving that loud mouth into the pillows. Leon squeezes his eyes shut and puts all attention to the image he has painted in his mind.
You'd be different, much different. He can only imagine you beneath him like this. Harsh demands formed from your dulcet voice, commanding his every move and action. Telling your puppy dog to make you feel good with the promise of a reward — the thought alone never fails to send a shiver through his body. Leon is sure your golden voice praising him is all he needs to die happy.
"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"
The reverie shatters as quickly as it was formed. His calloused hands find the woman's hair and he forces her further into the pillows. She is not opposed to being treated roughly in the sheets, discernible in the way her moans and mindless babbles increase in volume.
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
Leon would be different, too. Much softer than this. He would handle every inch of your skin like he's unmasking an archeological masterpiece. God, he couldn't treat you roughly even if he wanted to. Ruin every orgasm of his, leave his body littered with bruises and scratches. He would be a slave to your every whim, as pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other. And in return, Leon would still touch your body with the same glass-like softness he is only ever capable of treating you with.
He buries his face into the stranger's shoulder and inhales the scent of their perfume. It is nauseating and nothing like you. Artificially sweet and too strong. Leon desperately fills the plot holes in his fantasy and imagines you dolling yourself up for him. Maybe after a tireless day at work, he would arrive home to you greeting him with a surprise. Where you got all dressed up for his eyes only and allowed him to indulge in your body again and again and again and again.
He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you call him your puppy, your husband, your good boy.
The thought sends him over the edge.
It is not a euphoric unfolding. It is sharp. Gross and weak. It is merely something to help him get by, even just barely. At least tonight Leon was able to finish inside a warm body instead of the plastic toy he keeps in his bedside drawer.
He doesn't even remember the name of this stranger. However, that doesn't matter when loud whines of your name jump out of his throat instead. The word tumbles from his mouth as though if he spoke it enough, you would materialize into this bed with him.
The unsatisfied woman does not overlook this. Another person's name shamelessly moaned by the man she thought she would have some late-night fun with, is he serious? She rolls her eyes and escapes from his sweaty hold. As she dresses herself, rehearsing how she'll tell this horror story to her friends, Leon stays on the bed. He does not try to stop her from leaving.
The afterglow is feeble, but he merely pretends it is as strong as he knows it would be with you. He wants to ensnare his body around yours and reaffirm just how deeply he loves you. He just wants to be with you again, no matter what the circumstances are. In the sheets after Earth-shattering sex with the love of his life or back in the grimy streets of Raccoon City, he will take anything if it means looking into your eyes again.
The door closes with a slam. Leon is now alone. But, then again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like, after all.
2,327 days and counting since he lost you.
If you asked him all that time ago where he thought he'd be right now, he would answer with the hope and happiness he only had then. He'd sit cozy in the little cabin in the woods you and he would occupy, he was sure of it. Summers would be spent in the sunlit lakes and Winters would be spent huddling for warmth by the fireplace. Years would pass like this. All laughter and kisses, snuggles, and healing hearts.
These fantasies haunt him like a horror-flick ghost floating around an attic, as it is what his life could have been had he not failed to protect you. He could have you in his arms this very second, but because of his God-awful driving skills, your body was left behind in the rubble of Umbrella's mistakes. It is what he devoted his entire career to now: tearing down that damned corporation. It is why he is in this motel room, to begin with, where he rots in these musty sheets and sleeps with people he can't remember the names of.
Images of you and him sharing smiles flicker through his brain and lull him. Your eyes are the last thing Leon sees before he falls asleep.
It is a light slumber. He does not dream, he is merely unconscious. When he wakes an hour later, it is like he has not slept at all. As if the short period of time passed in a sheer blink. This is what his sleeping schedule normally looks like nowadays, complemented by the heavy, storm-grey bags beneath his eyes.
The sheet draped over his waist leaves him cold. The Winter weather creeps into the room and engulfs his naked skin in goosebumps. When Leon tries to grasp more of the cheap blankets to drape himself in, he is at a loss when he finds himself unable to move. Almost as though a weight had forced him back onto the bed. He can't move even a muscle; he is wholly and utterly paralyzed.
There's a soft footstep that permeates. Leon's eyes dart around the room, but there is nothing to perceive in the dark emptiness. When he tries to open his mouth and question if that woman has returned, his jaw remains locked shut.
Another footstep. He searches for anything to defend himself from whatever monster lurks in the shadows.
Then, another step. There is no doubting someone is in this room with him. He tries to regain mobility of his body, scrambling to use his fists or to find his gun.
"Leon?"
Something blooms within him. A vibrant, healthy flower persevering through the fiery ashes.
"It's me..."
Home. That is the only word Leon could use to explain your voice. Like the swirling scent of oven-fresh cookies made by his grandmother. Like the imagination in his mother's voice when she read him a bedtime story. Like the scent of freshly mowed grass when he plays outside after school. The cadence and inflection of your words bring a sense of comfort like no other. Honey-sweet in the purest form.
Through the dust-ridden curtains, the hues of streetlight seep into one corner of the room. You step into the light, midnight shadows framing your features. You're dressed in the exact clothing he last saw you wearing, in the absence of all that blood and grime from that night. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes bore into him as you step closer. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, a smile grows on your lips and robs him of all coherent function.
Leon can't but wonder if this was it, if he had died on this disgusting motel bed and you were finally taking him back into your arms. He doesn't even mind losing all sense of mobility, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Neither his face nor his body can physically react to the rush of emotion that comes with your presence, but it is more than perceptible in his eyes. Sky-gray irises drowned in oceans of fervor. Baby blues overwhelmed with shimmering, flamboyant love.
"If only you had just heard me out, then I could actually be with you right now." Your words, as heavenly as they sound, confuse Leon.
You tuck some fallen wisps of blonde hair away from his face and he swears it is real. His heart hammers like a snare drum. This is real, it must be real, it has to be.
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me. Then neither of us would be in this mess, would we?"
Something shifts in your gaze. That smile he loves so much is torn away and replaced with a scowl. There is now a perceptible rage in your expression, drowned in hollow emotion that clenches his heart.
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!? Like everything we have means jack shit to you!"
No, no, no, no, no! It's not like that! She means nothing, she is nothing! He only used her as a placeholder for you! There isn't a single redeeming feature about her that compares to you. Jesus Christ, how could he want anyone else when you exist?
Leon tries to respond, he really does. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how badly he wishes he could go back six years and change it all. How many hours he has spent with his hands clasped in prayer, apologizing relentlessly to the sky and hoping you'll hear him from down here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.
You stand from the bed, hands balled into fists at your side. "You're not gonna say anything? Just lay there and look at me like I'm nothing but-!"
A figure then barrels at you from the shadows. Your infuriated rant was cut short with a gut-wrenching shout when you are knocked to the ground. Saturated flesh peeking from dead skin and groans of hunger plunging from their slack mouth — a zombie had leaped from the darkness and sunk its teeth into your shoulder. Blood spouts from your wound and cascades down your body. You plead for Leon to help you, that he not leave you behind like he did all those years ago. And so desperately, Leon tries to.
A scream is locked behind his closed mouth as he tries to wrestle his way back to you. It pries and fights to escape, as though the force of his shout would be enough to convince this brainless creature to leave you be. Eyes blown wide with dizzying panic, all he can do is watch. His toned chest, sheen with sweat, rises and falls with rapid movements. Muffled whimpers of horror escape from the subtle crease of his mouth.
With every beating second your life fades away, the more Leon latches to any vigor he can grasp. His efforts to save you are overwhelmed in sheer desperation. He cannot let this happen all over again; he cannot lose you a second time. It would kill him, he is sure of it.
Something twitches in his finger. Then his foot. And for a moment, hope flickers in his mind. He can save you and atone for what he failed to do before. When the squelching sounds of flesh torn asunder fill the silence, that hope wears thin.
Like a bag of sand, Leon is able to drag his limp body across the mattress. His jaw weakens, to where sounds of despair are granted the ability to escape in roaring fervency. Off the side of the bed with the speed of a slug, he hits the ground with a harsh thud. Hauling himself onto his stomach, a verbiage of your name leaves his mouth.
He begins to crawl helplessly to where you are, only to stop in his efforts when he finds nothing. The lights from outside still seep into the room and the racket sounds of rock music still play from a room over. But, you have vanished. Leon stares at where you had fallen, scrutinizing every detail for any resemblance of you.
Misery strikes like a gunshot through his chest. Why did he fail again? Why can't he be enough, even for just once?
Why do you always leave him in the end?
He is alone again. Sat by himself on top of the soiled motel carpet and used condom he had frivolously thrown across the room. But, once again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like. And now, it is what the rest of his life will likely be encompassed in — empty solitude and hopeless dreams of you.
Leon does not sleep for the rest of the night. He is far too restless from the stressful events, terrified of watching that scene play out all over again. The digital clock on the bedside table provided minimum light, where the vibrant red numbers tick away. All he does is lie in this mess, watching the hours drift away.
A dark blue soon ensnares the sky. Birds squawk and sing. Dawn has finally arrived and so does the sun, bathing the room in its glowing orange and pink hues.
Your sunrise welcomes him, once again. The warmth and its serenity fails to placate him, though. Sitting here, he realizes how much of a fool he was to believe it was you in some form. The very second you left, you took everything warm and bright with you. You left him cold and empty and lifeless. You nestled the sun behind your resting eyes when your life faded away.
Cuddling up with you in that imaginary cabin is the only thing that can vitalize him. Two cups of steaming tea, watching the wind sway through the trees from the porch. Oh, the things Leon would take to bring this fantasy to life. To bring you back into the warmth of his arms is all he could ever need, where you will be safe and forever alive.
6:02 AM on the clock, Leon is expected at work in the following hour. Without a morsel of energy left in his feeble body, the thought of standing on this grimy floor overwhelms him with disdain.
Despite how badly he wishes to beat all scientists involved with Umbrella to a bloody pulp, he must take a course of action that abides by legal standards. To do this, Leon must work behind the scenes, ensuring every nail and screw is fastened with flawless finesse. This slow journey toward his goal of tearing Umbrella to shreds has taken a toll on him. No punching bag to take his rage out and his anger nestles itself into his body. Once Umbrella is six feet under, only then will he grant himself permission to join you and let Earth reclaim his body.
Today, Leon is now a part of the Torrents: a Capture-Force team designated to take down Umbrella's rumored return and prosecute those working for them. He has been assigned to replace someone on the team upon their suspension for "severe mental issues,” or whatever that entails. Alcohol heavy on his breath and bags beneath his eyes, Leon arrives at work for the day. He walks through the doors of a sanctuary Umbrella was confirmed to have been located at but has since fled from.
"You're late."
Leon doesn't care to look at the voice, as he already acknowledged and dismissed the vibrant "7:39 AM" on his wristwatch. They should be grateful he was even here in the first place and not rotting in bed.
"Not exactly rooting for employee of the month. Do I look the type?"
Leon's comment causes him to let out a quick huff of laughter. This new guy is much more amusing than his previous coworker, after all.
"Tyrell. Call me 'T."
He takes his hand out for Leon to shake, which he ignores. Tyrell stuffs his hand back into his pocket upon his refusal to reciprocate. An awkward silence settles between them.
"Leon. But, you knew that already."
The blonde then walks away from his new acquaintance. He can't recall the last time he had one, no less a genuine friend. The only person he put honest effort into discerning was you. Everyone else was just painfully bleak background noise stood behind your radiant aura. There is no one in the universe he wishes to befriend anymore, not when you're gone.
Leon treads through the building in search of the office organized by the team. Working behind a desk provides him his wanted rest, but taking part in the action scene provides an acute distraction. With his hands covered in blood and his fingers reeking of gunpowder, it is the most peace he can feel. Punch after punch, shots upon shots — the thought of you is eased little by little. The memory of you still lives on, but it is ephemeral moments like this where Leon can forget it all.
Several workers walk through the halls with heavy boxes marked "EVIDENCE". Others photograph imperative scenery around them, while some are busy scribbling on their notepads. Leon passes all of them without a second thought. However, two of his coworkers in particular capture his attention.
They both guide a surviving patient through the hallway. A young man holding a file in his hands and a perceptible fear in his eyes. The man then swiftly, albeit pathetically, throws himself at Leon and the file is shoved against his chest upon impact. A few of the files' contents slip from the folder and splat against the tiled floors. Hands curled around the sheepskin hems of his jacket, the man begs Leon for his help.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone."
Leon's stare is harsh. Cold and empty. Any living creature would surely keel over beneath that terrifyingly vacant gaze. The man, riddled with desperation, perseveres through this fear and continues to plead.
"They're my best friend... Please..."
The guards quickly shuffle over to the scene. Their hands grip the man's shoulders, but do not apply any further pressure. They look to Leon, waiting for the demand of their superior.
And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.
"Get him out of my sight."
They do as told, nearly shoving the man to the ground in their efforts to escort him out of the building. The hopeless gleam in his eyes should have sparked some form of guilt within Leon. Looking into that man's eyes, however, he feels nothing. Leon instead shifts his gaze to the ground. There, right beneath his boot, the sight of something causes his heart to quicken. Swiftly taking it into his gloved hands, his breath is then yanked from his chest.
In the polaroid is no other than you.
Snow engulfs the ground and you’re dressed in a large coat that practically swallows you whole. Pine trees blanketed in the white matter surround you. With chunky mittens on, you form a heart with your hands. Snowflakes descend from the sky, a few landing on your shoulders and knitted hat. Behind you, a stack of plastic sleds. You're captured with that smile of perfection on your face, the very smile that could rival the sun.
How...? 
How did he have this? Leon could've sworn he had every picture of you...
He crosses the hallway in several large strides and finds him in mere seconds. With every sliver of strength in his body, Leon tears the man from the grasp of the guards and shoves him against the wall.
"Where did you get this!?" His voice has been reduced to a gruff timbre. A horrifying whisper.
Gesturing at the Polaroid, the man looks at him in bewilderment.
"W-What are you talking about-?"
Leon's forearm pushes against the base of his throat, pressing harder and arousing choked gasps from his throat.
"I won't ask you again..."
"Me! Me, I-I took it! I took the picture!" The man, wide-eyed and terrified, desperately exclaims the truth. However, his answer seemed to be the exact opposite of what his interrogator wished for.
Calloused hands clasped around his collar, Leon pulls the man back before shoving him back into the wall. A blood-curdling crack, then a grunt pervades the air. The unmistakable scent of iron diffuses from the man's skull, inevitable from the force of the hit. Leon practically snarls through his heavy breaths.
"When!? When'd you take this fucking picture!?"
The man slurs out his answer, now rendered delirious from the strike his head endured.
"Jan... January... La-Last January..."
The world then shatters around Leon.
The tumultuous clamor of everything falling apart before his eyes robs him of any coherent, proper function. These past six years play out like another nightmare. Every sip of alcohol, every aimless nightmare, every mediocre hookup — it all crumbles and joins the rubble of the destruction.
This whole time... This whole time you...
His vision blurs as the revelation settles, swimming through a void of vertigo and devastation. A sharp ringing permeates around him. It complements the sound of his hyperventilating breaths and hammering heartbeat. The firm grasp he once held on the man weakens, to where he scrambles away from Leon and his violent antics.
This whole time you were... 
Alive...?
Leon turns his feet and stumbles away. Sweat seeps down his face and then his neck, staining the musk-stained clothes he had not washed in weeks. The sheer luminosity of the white lights, white walls, and white floors do not aid him in his attempts to soothe his sorrows. There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Leon brings his hand up to the painful ache, falling in his efforts to mend his affliction, once again.
"Are you alright, sir?"
The new voice could easily be spoken from miles away. Vanished and impossible to discern. Leon tries to clutch the walls to maintain his stability, but this inevitably fails him, as the shock derived from this epiphany sends his weak body to the unforgiving ground.
"I'm dying..."
He can hardly recognize his own voice. It is now a higher, fearful pitch than he is used to. The other person speaks once more, but he cannot perceive what was said. Their words are merely a quiet boat in a thrashing ocean.
"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
This feeling of realization bubbles in his chest and infiltrates every inch of his form. His chest is overwhelmed with panicked breaths. Up and down, up and down. The stranger then sprints away from Leon. Their shouts for a doctor are distorted, now an echo Leon cannot discern.
Voices from his past speak to him from all directions. As though the very walls surrounding him were taunting him. Mocking every failure of his.
"Leon- LEON-!!"
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!?"
"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him."
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me."
His world has been torn to paper-thin shreds. Then, it all goes dark. Leon is left alone and unconscious in this vast abyss of nothingness.
Tyrell sighs in frustration. He wonders why this team has such a knack for hiring people with "severe mental issues".
A harsh cut to reality is what Leon was next met with. Inside this shoebox-sized hospital room, ragged belts are restrained around his limbs. Doctors rush in and out of the blinding-white room. A myriad of drugs course in his system, intended to ease the rampant panic pumping through his body. The aftermath of his panic attack was fresh, yet still, all Leon could think about was you.
How you, his sunshine, his sweet baby, have been alive all this time.
Leon thrashes and fights against his restraints, as though you were just outside the door, waiting for him to come scoop you in his arms and close the distance between you at once. For the umpteenth time, several nurses race into the room and sedate him. Again, he is forced into another fit of unconsciousness. This routine will go on to repeat numerous times. Knowing you are out there somewhere, alone, makes for a man inconsolable.
Several days pass before Leon is brought to a state of mediocre tranquility. His heart is still rampant, but with fear of more time wasted without taking proper action, he abides by the doctor's demands. He will do anything to get to you, after all. Kneel before God, succumb to the Devil. Face him with the most torturous, humiliating, gut-wrenching fate with the promise of your return and he will simply smile in response. Leon will lay with blood painting his teeth and purple bruises caked into his skin, unhinged with euphoria knowing you are the prize at the end of the tunnel.
Mere picoseconds had passed before he sprung into action. He is swift to return to his work. Fervently, he begins scouring through every detail Umbrella left behind to pinpoint the exact location you reside at.
The most valuable piece of evidence was security camera footage. A prominent clue that made Leon's stomach coil like a snake ensnaring itself around its prey. Outside of the window to your bedroom, the night-vision camera highlights the scene of two intruders. With careful ease, they pull your unconscious body through the room and flee to the adjacent forest with you in their arms.
Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.
Or, as Leon prefers to refer to them, two names that have now been added to his lengthy list of those who will face his wrath.
The team has theorized the two have been working for Umbrella and were assigned to sneakily escort survivors to a new location. Due to this, patients still in this present location are now being sent to a hospital guarded by the Torrents. A place where they will be kept far away from Umbrella's grasp. What the team can't piece together, however, is why the two never came back to take more survivors. They had plentiful opportunities, but you, Y/N L/N, are the only missing patient. Or, as the team has now assigned your code name as, "Baby-Eagle".
Now, Leon is coursing through Spain. Guns strapped in their holster, knives out at the ready, and a reveling rage in his eyes — he counts every second spent away from you. The chilling temperatures gust against his skin like sharp teeth as he practically tears the country asunder. All that matters is finding the face that has been stamped in every dream of his for the past six years.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
He still can't believe it. You are alive.
If Leon grants himself permission to revel in this fact, he will lose what little control he still possesses over himself. God knows how much he needs the slivers that still remain. These feelings, despite all, have kindled strength Leon never recognized. A new spark; a fresh, riveting chapter. Emotions which only you, some sort of sorcerer, are capable of conjuring.
A day has now passed of his relentless search. More and more does fear cradle Leon. Like a warm blanket nestled around his heart, he is horrified by the silence that ventures through the land of Los Iluminados. The mere thought of potentially stumbling across you, lifeless, is enough to evoke a gag from the back of his throat. He cannot handle that. He cannot lose you again.
The dim light of dusk irradiates the loading docks. Every rushed step Leon takes causes the decrepit surface to moan weakly from the weight. He scrutinizes every shipping container, every nook and cranny, every barrel splattered with yellow paint. He becomes increasingly more ridden with desperation as his lasting hope begins to flicker.
Leon turns a corner and finds it: the sight he has been crying every night to see for six years. His mouth speaks before his brain can emulate these soul-crushing sensations.
"Y/N...!?"
You turn your head to the intrusion. Leon is shocked he had not died right there beneath your gaze.
You, his epic, undying love, rest there as though Botticelli painted you as the focal point for 'Birth of Venus'. Sat against some paper sacks like Venus stood on her scallop shell, Leon has never seen a sight quite as perfect as this. Strikingly similar to the pearl Venus resembles, you and her are pure and exquisite as you are brought to life. In a way, it is precisely the events which take place now. Six years wrestling with the burden of your death, only for you to be reborn before his very eyes like the natural, divine God you are. Absolutely, irrevocably perfect in your stance.
Leon stands frozen in place. Staring at this work of art, this utter masterpiece mere yards away from him. He is then taken aback when he feels something wet trickle down his cheeks. What he assumes to be rainfall is actually... tears?
All these years, he has begged the universe to feel his emotions. Or to feel anything, for that matter. It will not bring you back, as he wholly prayed for every night, but it would bring temporary, weak relief. Right now, as though you had some form of superpower, Leon cries. He cries like he has never before. His face twists into an ugly scrunch; he can feel the hot tears and stringy snot seep down his skin. He listens to the gut-wrenching sobs protruding from his chest and holds his hand over his heart, overwhelmed by the intensity the organ is enduring.
Despite the tragic scene, Leon has never been happier. The journey these six years have taken him on has been rough. Irrevocably soul-crushing. Seeing you here, beautiful as you always were, makes everything worth it — utterly, indubitably, and completely.
Then, someone else interrupts.
Ada Wong, a few years older, steps into view. Guarding you from the unwelcome intruder.
The epiphany strikes like a broken heart. It is not betrayal, as he has never trusted Ada. Rather, it is a flood of humiliation. It is absolute shame, unadulterated and pure. How could he have been such a fool?
All this time, Ada had kept you with her. She was the reason he was apart from you; she was the distance that stood between two soulmates. That must be the story, right? She sunk those acrylic claws into your pretty skin and took you away from him, spewing lies about your death and granting Umbrella access to you.
Leon is hit with this epiphany. Hit with what he perceives to be the truth. And it makes him alive with rage.
"It was you, wasn't it...?"
The silence is shattered by his voice. Sewn with fury and nestled deep inside him. His attention, once solely devoted to the love of his life, has now been shifted towards someone else. The one he believes to be responsible for these six years of sheer agony.
"This whole fucking time-!"
In one swift motion, Leon storms over with his fingers clenched to his holster. You stand from the paper sacks and use your body as a shield between Ada and him. Your hand ghosts over Leon's chest to prevent any more unwanted violence. And how unaware you are of the sheer impact your physical touch has on this man.
For a moment, just a fleeting second, Leon is able to overlook the context of the circumstances. Your hand barely makes contact with his body, and from them, he can feel your warmth. The same warmth he has been chasing after; the same warmth he has killed himself over and over to try and retrieve again. It is like a gentle breeze, like tepid bath water. Somehow, your simple touch has pacified his rage as though it were merely child's play to you. Something Leon never thought was feasible.
And just like always, Ada Wong is there to shatter yet another trance.
"Have you really gone so far off the deep end, that you think you could ever amount to being their boyfriend? You truly believe you deserve that title?" Ada laughs. A deep, mocking chuckle. "Are you really that delusional or just naturally blonde?"
You look at Ada and speak for the first time.
"'Boyfriend?'"
An expression of puzzlement is plastered on your face. In return, their heads whip to stare at you, brows furrowed while searching for confirmation.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Leon was never my boyfriend...?"
Their confusion deepens. Ada questions how she could have so foolishly fallen for a fantasy this dumb boy created. Leon questions why you are telling her such lies. You've been dating for almost seven years now, what are you talking about? 
"Y/N/N, you don't have to lie to her. You know I won't let her hurt you."
Now, it is your turn to be just as perplexed as they both are. What the fuck is he talking about?
As you're busy scrutinizing him for an explanation, Ada grasps hold of your forearm. Protectively and with softness, she guides you away from the deranged antics of Leon. You lean into her touch in response, as your trust in her is stronger than whatever you feel for him. Especially after the events you and Ada have both endured today.
The man in question, however, does not favor this action. With a swiftness that makes you dizzy, Leon shoves her off of you. Ada falls to the ground from the force of his strength but gracefully springs to her feet. Eyes narrowed and hunting knife in hand, she is ready for battle.
A shriek then falls from your mouth when Leon takes his pistol from its holster but is replaced with shocked silence when Ada kicks the gun from his grasp with her stiletto heel. A stab towards his chest is easily blocked by his meaty forearm, but she still manages to retaliate and surges a punch across his jaw.
Everything happens so fast that it is impossible for you to keep up with the speed of it all. When Ada drops to her feet, encasing her leg around Leon's ankles and sending him to the floor, the loud clamor of his harsh landing takes you back to a few days ago. That bang! is all too familiar. The fire of gunshots out of Jill's gun and the pounding of their fists against flesh — these memories return more harshly than before. Your heart hammers with dread and adrenaline, as though the same inner turmoil has returned yet again.
Once again, who do I choose? The clingy customer at Mizoil, the overly affectionate Superwoman, or myself?
In a state of pure instinct, you do what you predominantly fail at the most. Run.
You don't anticipate how close they may be behind, or if two of your past lovers may be waiting somewhere in the forest. You do not pay these thoughts any attention, for that matter. Focused entirely on the path ahead, you run like you never have before. And if it weren't for the rampant adrenaline coursing through your system, you could say you've become familiar with this forest. It is almost ridiculous how much you have raced past all these trees. Burning lungs, numb legs and all — oh, this is really getting old.
When a sudden force knocks you to your feet, you can feel yourself begin to succumb to lethargy. The relentless sprint and post-laser-induced pains have become too much for your body to endure. Shifting your gaze up, however, you are met with a burst of energy when you see that you have collided with... A person?
Thick gear is strapped to his strong body. Glasses are rested upon the bridge of his nose. This is the first stranger you have seen in months and you do not know how to handle it.
"Oh, shit. It's really you..." His concerned gaze peers at you through his foggy eyewear.
When his fingers ghost over your arm, you flinch away from him. You do not mean to do this, but your body, riddled with turmoil and trauma, reacts before your brain can.
"It's alright, it's alright..." His voice goes softer. "My name is Tyrell. I'm here to help you."
He reaches a cautious hand out to you, as though you were a feeble, terrified animal backed into a corner. Your trust has been worn thin, but whatever fight left in your system has entirely perished. You cannot run anymore; you cannot defend yourself. If this is death, then you will welcome it with open arms. At least you can say you've made it this far.
Lifting a shaky hand up, you let out a gentle gasp when you make physical contact with him. With tender encouragement, Tyrell brings you to your feet. Your tired legs wobble as though you were a baby fawn. Touch that does not inevitably follow with romantic expectations is something foreign to you. This level of kindness has almost become a stranger. Although you would never verbalize it, his touch feels good. It is a comfort; a softness.
Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut. Your body fails you and you collapse into Tyrell's arms. Now, unconsciousness comes as a solace, instead of that familiar trepidation.
And so engrossed in their own feral need for dominance, neither Ada nor Leon had taken notice of your sudden disappearance.
Fresh bruises and blood splatters permeate their bodies. What neither of them realizes about the other is that Leon fights hard, yes, but Ada doesn't fight fair. In a matter of several seconds, she takes the man to the metal floors, once again.
Leather heels pressed to his neck, she points his own pistol to his face.
"Now stay down."
Leon has never been one to back down. Even with death staring directly into his eyes, never once has he begged. However, with you here, alive, he can't bear to be torn from you again.
"Don't... Please, I-I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't take me away from them. Not again..."
Ada is nearly struck dumbfounded by this new side of him. Leon Kennedy, the savior of the president's daughter, one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, is begging for his life? What has she done to this man? Or, above all, what have you done to him?
"Tell me what Umbrella wants with Y/N."
Leon's eyes trail off behind her, seemingly searching for something with frantic movements. Her words had merely gone through one ear and out the other. His silence is only met with frustration.
"I've kept you away from them for this long." Her finger moves to hover over the trigger. "I can easily turn those six years into forever."
"Where did Y/N go?" Leon cuts her off.
Ada nearly snaps her neck with how fast she turns around. Dark eyes scanning the loading docks, her stomach sinks into a sea of dread when she cannot find you. Leon scrambles to his feet and searches alongside his nemesis. Shouts of your name echo into the gloomy skies; their hammering hearts could rival a war drum.
From here, yet another search for you begins. And between them, there is now an unspoken agreement, a newfound alliance. Although their plans rarely come to fruition, they have both found a conclusion together. The two are now wholly focused on the scheme they will achieve or die striving for.
Find you, ensure your safety, and keep you forever in their arms.
A warm, wet rag pressed against your forehead is what you awaken to next. The sudden shift into consciousness causes you to jerk back. Your eyes burst wide, scrutinizing as much of your environment as you can.
You're finally out of that dark forest. Now, you've been rested upon a dilapidated couch. Damp clothes are still stuck to your body, but a thick comforter has been draped upon you. The golden lamplight highlights Tyrell, who sits on the coffee table beside you. With a bowl of water and a rag in his hand, he looks at you with a concerned gleam in his gaze.
You are brought to a mild sense of ease once you comprehend your surroundings. You do not have it within you to trust anyone, but for some reason, this man has brought tranquility you cannot explain. Safety has become a rarity. And you gobble every breadcrumb of it you are able to garner.
"Welcome back." He jokes. His tone is still quiet, as it has been. Careful.
Your throat aches, but you still speak.
"Where am I?" You nearly cringe at how scratchy, how pathetic your voice is.
"My house." This does not calm you. Tyrell notices.
"Hey, no one can get you in here. You are safe, I swear it." His assurances help ease you. He, once again, takes notice of this before continuing.
"I'm sure you have a 'lotta questions for me, huh? I got some for you, too."
"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"
"That's a good question because I don't know either. It's what we're trying to figure out." You furrow your brow, to which he answers to your confusion. "I work with a team called the Torrents. We've been tasked with locating Umbrella and finding any survivors. You were top of our list, 'Baby-Eagle'. Now that you're safe and sound, my teammates can finally get some sleep."
Your smile grows at that nickname. God, when was the last time someone elicited a genuine smile from you?
"We think they may have been testing on some of the patients they have. Do you happen to know anything about that?"
Then, the dread settles with the realization. Jill and Carlos were right this whole time. When you would travel to the ends of the Earth to defend that corporation, it was all for a lie in the end. When Jill and Carlos saved you from them, you paid them back with cruelty and distrust. You left them both in the dust when all they wished to do was save you. Should you have ever left them?
"What about Carlos Oliveira? Jill Valentine? We know they had, um... taken you. If you're willing to talk about them, I'm all ears. 'Got all night, anyways."
There Tyrell goes again. The voice of reason in a bubble of incoherent regret.
"All I-um... All I remember is being at the sanct- er, Umbrella. I drank some tea and then I woke up in Jill and Carlos' house. The next several months, they-uh, they convinced me we were in a... relationship, of some sort. Matt- or Umbrella, found us in the end. They all hurt each other. Real bad. Then, I ended up here." Your words are quiet and broken, but Tyrell manages to pick up every cracked piece of your voice.
"Okay. I see..." He nods. "Do you think Jill and Carlos could have possibly been working for Umbrella?"
This question leaves you taken aback, evident in your dramatic reaction and scrunched face.
"God, no! They despised Umbrella. And I... I defended Umbrella. I thought they helped me, I thought they were the good guys. Every time Jill and Carlos talked shit about them, I would get so-" You interrupt yourself with a coughing fit.
Reaching to his side, Tyrell holds a plastic bottle of water in his large hands. The prospect of drugs floating through the liquid fills you with apprehension. However, with your throat on fire, you eagerly take the bottle and nearly down the entire beverage. Tyrell is one of the good ones, he wouldn't do that to you. You're sure of it.
"It's alright. You don't have to answer any more of my stupid questions, don't worry. All you 'gotta do is rest."
If you were more conscious and without the weight of fresh trauma, you'd make a joke of how he should be a voice actor with such a soothing voice like his. Tyrell's hand finds your shoulder and softly guides you back down to the couch. You ignore the unfamiliar, teenage-love-like bolt of electricity that flows from his touch and you follow his lead. When your head hits the rough fabric of the pillow, you let your heavy eyes fall.
When a door down the hallway bursts open, you cannot tell if you had been asleep for hours or if you had slept at all. Without Tyrell's presence, that all-too-familiar sense of terror returns. When you are barely able to discern his muffled voice through the walls, that terror is slightly diluted with ease. The context is what lies outside this room still has you riddled with fear.
Then, like every cheesy romance film you've ever seen, Leon Kennedy stands on the threshold of the living room entrance.
You are barely allowed a mere second to process his presence before he is barreling for you. His arms, thick and warm, ensnare around your waist. He exhales your name with a breathless tremor, burying his head further into the crevice of your neck. And you melt into him. After everything you've been through, a hug is something you are in dire need of. Leon croons in response, latching onto you tighter. Nestling himself closer against you like a touch-starved, needy puppy-dog.
"Oh, sunlight... I was so worried...!" Although this man has suffered drastic changes in the six years you've been without him, he never seems to have let go of that saccharine tone. Unbeknownst to you, you are the only one capable of summoning that side of Leon.
Although you feel safe in the comfort of Tyrell's home, there is still that stagnant terror fizzing in your stomach. A myriad of questions overwhelm your brain. What has happened? How much time has passed? Where is Ada?
You weaken your hold on him. He does not like that. "Leon. Please, I need to know-"
"Shh..." He interrupts, his hands trailing up your form until they grasp hold of your face. His grip on you, tighter than ever, shifts so he can gaze into your eyes.
"Just let me look at you..."
And that he does. Seconds, then minutes pass. All Leon does is stare directly into you. As though every inch of your irises were being studied to memory by him. As though he was pulling the depths of your soul to the surface of your eye, all for him to gawk and goggle at. It should make you blush and avert your gaze, as the characters normally do in those romance movies. However, you can't bring yourself to. You feel uncomfortable and scrutinized. As though you are restrained to a metal table for strangers and doctors to poke and prod at.
The doorbell then rings and the echo roams through the halls. You are broken from this entrance with Leon, but he is not. God, how could he?
With you here, all the cruelty he has been faced with is now wrapped together in a pretty bow. It was all a present, he now realizes. Everything that has happened led him to the personification of utmost, perpetual happiness. So, you must forgive him if he finds himself staring for too long (not that he even realizes, for that matter). It is impossible to fathom the flood of euphoria rushing through him, hence the dumbfounded, love-struck expression stamped on his face.
"Y/N..." He exhales, honey dripping from his voice.
Although he does not wish to close his eyes, Leon cannot imagine a better time to kiss you. Where the music swells, the candles glimmer, the moon gleams. It is what he has been dreaming about for six years, after all.
Just as Leon leans in, his intentions are cut short. Someone else, once again, interrupts.
Tyrell avoids the death glare from Leon and focuses on you, oblivious to how this action is the root of Leon's fury.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone was just here for you, Y/N."
Carlos and Jill are the first people who enter your mind, here to take you back to the affection-ridden toxicity of their humble abode. When Tyrell holds his hands out and displays what this stranger left, however, you're taken aback.
"She claimed to be your wife...?"
Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.
"And she left this."
What he then gives to you is a plushie, one you remember all too well. It is an opossum, the very same opossum you cuddled with every night during your time at the sanctuary. You've missed him very much whilst you were stuck with Jill and Carlos. Despite your expressed wishes, they never made the effort to retrieve your darling opossum. Why cuddle some measly fabric and cotton when you can cuddle them instead?
You let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it is not those two at the door.
The only striking difference in your fuzzy friend is the blood-red ribbon tied around the opossum's neck. Wedged between the silk and faux fur is a folded piece of paper. Both Tyrell and Leon watch as you open the letter, digesting the contents written on the surface.
In red ink, "Wait for me, petal..." is written with flawless, cursive handwriting. Beneath, a dandelion is drawn. The pappus drifts through the wind and scatters across the paper.
Ada?
Why is she here? Where has she been?
Or, more importantly, how the hell did she find your opossum?
A rough, sharp gasp sprouts from Jill's throat when she awakens.
A flickering light sways above her, the sight blurred in her tired gaze. Her body aches from the awkward position she was unconscious in. Lifting her weakened body up, Jill discerns several bodies, painted in blood and grime, that had been splayed in a frivolous mess. There are miscellaneous documents scattered amongst this violent disarray. Shifting her distorted gaze, she finds two metal doors that had been sprung open. How the hell did she get inside of a truck? What caused it to crash in the first place?
Using the dented walls for support, she stumbles forward. Black dots dance in Jill's vision for a moment, before returning to a hazy blur as she staggers out of the vehicle. With an abrupt grunt, she collapses into the mud. Her hands, stained with dirt, hold her ribs in an attempt to ease the stagnant pain.
For this simple moment, Jill is alone in the world. When the most important thing in her life finally flashes through her mind, the pumping of her heart accelerates.
Y/N... Where did you go?
Memories of her last encounter with you return, as well. It harbors terror like no other. She speaks your name and it sprouts from her throat in a desperate call.
Jill's breath quickens when she discerns a voice. The indubitable sound of someone crying for help echoes through the forest. She turns to the source with hope and worry shimmering in her eyes. Oh, it's her baby, her butterfly! You need her help!
"Y/N...! I'm coming..." Her voice is weak, but her attempts are the entire opposite.
Jill limps through the forest, clambering over wreckage with frantic effort. Averting her blurred gaze to the sound of cries, her face drops when she finds something entirely different.
That doctor you are evidently so infatuated with is stuck beneath a pile of rubble. His face appears as though it had been sunken in. Drowned in a mess of gore.
And sitting on top of the doctor is no other than Carlos Oliveira, whose fists are painted in that same gore.
His clenched fists plunge into Matt's face over and over and over again. His teeth are barred and bloodied like some sort of animal. His voice is several octaves lower than ever before, all guttural growls and grunts like some sort of rabid creature. It is something Jill has never seen before. Not in Raccoon City, not when they took you from the sanctuary, not even when she took you out for a ride on her motorcycle. He is now a monster in its absolute form.
However, Carlos is not something she is concerned with at the moment. She hurls herself over to the two and shoves Carlos off of Matt. He falls to the ground with a loud thump and a harsh curse. Jill ignores his dramatic reaction, before climbing atop of Matt and ensnaring her hands around his red-stained neck. Jill then proceeds to interrogate him of your whereabouts.
"What did you do to them? Where the fuck did you take them!?" Jill does not recognize herself, either. Her voice has morphed into a low, violent tone, an inflection she never knew she was capable of producing.
Matt does not respond to her pressuring questions. He chokes and gurgles on chunks of blood, teeth, and spit. His eyes, now puffy and swollen from the relentless blows they have endured, gape at her in confused terror. However, not that Matt could even be given the chance to respond. Jill glances at the sudden movement in her peripheral and is met with Carlos' fist striking her cheek. The force of the punch sends her to the dirt.
"This is all your fucking fault, Jill!" Her ears almost ring from the sheer volume of his shout.
Once again, it is a side of Carlos she has never seen before. She can take a punch, that's for damn sure. God knows she's handled worse. But fuck, is he out for blood right now.
"If you had never taken Y/N outside, they never would've wanted to leave in the fucking first place!" The tremble in the back of Carlos' throat jeopardizes his intimidation factor. Of course, he is crying, Jill sighs to herself.
Her lanky fingers press into the damp ground to stabilize herself. Before she can bring herself back to her feet, however, something catches her eye. A single document among the millions. She takes the closest one into her grasp and reads through the classified contents. With that damned Umbrella logo in the corner, Jill is fully aware of what evil, corrupt plans await her in the following passage.
As Carlos sobs like a child behind her, whimpers of "my baby" and "come back to me" filling the silent air, she scours through the information printed on the page. Three names are stamped in bold: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, and Y/N L/N. More survivors collected from Raccoon City, they claim. There are reports of your physicality and state of being, accompanied by their predictions on how you'll react to their new testing. "Las Plagas" is what they refer to it as.
At the very bottom of the document, most imperatively, is a series of coordinates to their new location.
With this newfound, fruitful information, Jill trudges over to Carlos for additional aid. When she finds him practically tucked into a ball, sobbing his lungs out, she cannot restrain herself from rolling her eyes.
"Get up. Get up, pussy, come on-!" When she tugs on his arm, he pushes her harshly away from him.
"You don't understand!” Brown eyes, overwhelmed with tears, glare at her in accusation. “I can't live without them..."
Jill is swift to counter back. "Neither can-fucking-I! And we will never see 'em again unless you man-up and fuckin’ listen to me!"
This grabs his attention.
"So, are you just gonna sit there and fuckin' whine about it or are you gonna help me?"
With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.
"Good. Now get your shit together and find me a goddamn map."
Jill does not waste another second before springing into action. She begins with a thorough scrutinization of the scene of the crash, searching for any specific landmarks that will inform them of their current whereabouts. When all she finds is a street sign made of decaying wood that reads "Los Iluminados," she knows her luck is wearing thin.
When Carlos announces with a cracked voice his discovery, Jill limps with urgency to him. Nestled beneath the passenger seat is a map, crumbled and stained with filth. Jill yanks the paper from his hands and searches for the street they are currently stuck on, while also discerning the coordinates Umbrella had disclosed in their document.
Meanwhile, Carlos chokes out demands left and right. Asking her what all of this is for, and how this will help him in his efforts to reunite with his sweet bumblebee. Despite his irritating questions, she does not respond to him. She is too engrossed in her own head, manipulating her detective skills.
"There." Jill finally breaks her fit of silence.
Presenting the map to Carlos, she points to where the coordinates line up.
"That's where Y/N is."
A beat passes as Carlos, too, inspects the contents before him. Then, he snatches the map from Jill's hands. He storms off in the direction she advised with a desperate vengeance in his disposition.
When Jill takes a step to follow him, something clutches around her ankles. With a sharp gasp, she looks down to identify the sudden matter. When the hopeful fraction of her mind told her it could be you, she was met with disappointment when she finds Matt. Whining and pleading for her help, blood still oozing from his butchered head and seeping into the mud below.
Jill stares at the man with absolutely nothing in her eyes. She, instead, snatches a loose, sharp twig from the mess of detritus scattered around. Before Matt can obtrude another helpless plead, she drives the stuck directly into his eye. Blood squirts from the fresh wound like a fizzy soda. One last gurgle for air and his body finally goes limp.
She spits on his corpse. Then, Jill turns back to follow Carlos on his trail.
Wherever you may be, she will find you. Even if it kills her.
Tumblr media
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,
BUT I'M THINKING OF THE WAY IT WAS . . . ❞
Tumblr media
long wait but we back again babyyyyy
gif creds :: leon.
Tumblr media
826 notes · View notes
poisonedprose · 5 months
Text
hip holding > waist holding two gentle hands placed on your hips, fingertips digging ever so slightly into the fat that they could squish for hours if you'd let them. your hips are their favorite part of your body, littering them with bruises and love bites at any given moment. on their knees, looking up at you, two hands firmly griping each hip, placing a soft kiss to the bone with a smile.
leon kennedy, john price, ellie williams, arisu ryohei, jill valentine, carlos oliveira, kyle garrick, könig
waist holding > hip holding their hands fit perfectly in the curve of your waist, almost like your waist was made for them to grab and use to their advantage. they pull you close by your waist, fingers showing no signs of letting go any time soon. using their strength to manhandle you in any way they possibly could, squeezing your waist to show you who's boss with a look that's sure to kill.
joel miller, simon riley, ada wong, niragi suguru, chishiya shuntaro, john mctavish, albert wesker, last boss
2K notes · View notes
cheesesoda · 8 months
Text
resident evil men as parents!
a/n: i had this idea randomly so i wanted to write some headcanons 💪 lmk if you wanna see the girls as parents! (i might edit these headcanons and add more later too)
cw: slight mention of smoking and alcohol
genre: fluff, headcanons/blurb
______________________________________________
leon kennedy
Tumblr media
leon is a girl dad!
cried when she was born
from when she was born until age 1 he would just go into her room at night and watch her sleep
he spoils her fr
youll come home late from work (well past her bedtime)
there they are making ice cream sundaes in the kitchen
he participates in tea parties and he enjoys it
he tells even MORE dad jokes now
very protective
tries to drink less after his daughter is born
chris redfield
Tumblr media
chris is a girl and boy dad!
i think he has 1 boy (older) and 1 girl (younger)
like him and claire
was in awe when his kids were born
“oh my god she/he’s so small”
auntie claire babysits all the time
teaches his son to play football
honestly i think he’d be protective of his daughter but not as much as the others because he would teach her self defense from a young age
ethan winters
Tumblr media
ethan is a girl dad! (which we already knew)
we already know what hes like as a dad but i’ll still write a bit for him
100% cried so hard when his daughter was born
best husband and father
definitely bought every brand of diapers because he didnt know what to get
hes very affectionate and caring to his daughter
i don’t see him as the type of dad to kill any guy who speaks to her once shes older
if someone breaks her heart tho mans just might kill
albert wesker
Tumblr media
wesker is a boy dad!
very calm when he was born
not very affectionate
he does care he just doesn’t show it very well
luis sera
Tumblr media
luis is a girl and boy dad!
i think he’d have 2 or 3 kids
if he had 2 kids, he’d have 1 girl (older) and 1 boy (younger)
if he had 3 kids, he’d have 2 girls (oldest & youngest) and 1 boy (middle)
definitely sets a very high bar for how his daughter/s should be treated
teaches his son to be a gentleman definitely
loves all his kids so much
smokes less after his kids are born and would rather die than expose them to cigarette smoke especially when they’re babies
carlos oliveira
Tumblr media
carlos is a girl and boy dad!
you cannot tell me this man does not want a village of children
he would probably have 4 kids
i think he’d have 3 boys and 1 girl
has the biggest soft spot for his kids
he’s very non-toxic masculine with his sons
he always tells them he loves them, hugs them, etc.
he also has tea parties with his daughter
2K notes · View notes
miilkyymoon · 10 months
Text
A Sloppy First With Carlos?
Pairings: Carlos Oliveira x Fem! Reader
Summary: You have been dating Carlos for quite some time and finally decide to let him claim you as his own, but it is more like some sloppy sex.
Cw. Smut (nsfw), p in v, praise, virgin reader gets their first time wit carlos, dom carlos?, some begging, needy/desperate reader, a bit body worship if you squint ur eyes just a bit, possessive & a bit of cocky carlos, relationship had already been established yet we skipping to the part of where he just gives u a sloppy first time just to enjoy every moment of him inside you! This man is gonna make you a milf after he’s done fr fr want u to be the momma to his kids. Some fluff at the end there is def aftercare but I got too lazy to write it….
A/N: I’ve never written for Carlos before, so this is my first time writing for him and feel free to give me feedback!
SMUT AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!
Carlos Oliveira is definitely a charming guy when it came to women, but that all changed when you came into his life. He became so tough and cocky around you and others that it made him the kind of guy who didn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of people. It also caused you to fall for him a little bit faster. That was exactly what you wanted. Someone strong, and not afraid of showing it. The only problem with your choice was that he wasn’t exactly someone to get along with very well and was even more of an asshole than he already was.
Not something you expected from a man like that. But if it meant you could feel secure in his arms, then so be it. You could live with any kind of attitude. If he just wanted to keep you safe then so be it. You wouldn’t mind at all, actually. You enjoyed being near him, even if it made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought his roughness was sexy, even if you were slightly scared of him sometimes. And as long as there wasn’t going to be too much violence in the future, maybe you would be able to handle things better. Just give him some time, yet It wasn’t like you couldn’t deal with the bad side of him.
I mean he could be a total dickhead at times, sure, but you could tolerate that, too. He still respected you, afterall, and that was what really mattered. As long as you were happy and satisfied in his arms. And you had been that all this time. All your years of dating with a guy like Carlos Olivera didn’t go wrong. He treated you right, despite your flaws and his ego.
His ego brings out the best in him wether it’s in bed or out of bed, so there is no doubt about what you saw with him in bed that night. He was absolutely gentle, but rough when he kisses you sloppily, his hands firm when they roamed your body, and he took his pleasure in making you squirm underneath him. His tongue is hot and insistent in licking every inch of your skin and his fingers are rough and warm when they caress your breasts through the thin cotton fabric of your tight dress. And his eyes. Oh, Carlos’ eyes looked as if they were dark pools filled with lust and possessiveness. Without hesitation he took off his pants dropping them to the floor, his erection already trying to poke out the side of his boxers. You tried to take his boxers off although he had prioritized in spreading your legs apart and placed his hard member between them, foremost, further apart.
Fingers had trailed straight under the waistband of your dress while his hands started ripping your dress off, and your bra followed. With quick movements he tore the straps and panties away leaving you bare beneath his gaze, completely naked from head to toe. His lips left yours. Carlos began to apply lube to his hardened and throbbing cock, before slowly inserting it inside you, setting a slow movement in and out of you in a way that was torturous in itself. You whimpered from the sensation, but his grip on your hips tightened making the pain go away momentarily. Sloppily beginning to thrust into you, his pace quickened until he hit a certain spot that made you scream with pleasure. “Oh, God...” you moaned breathlessly before closing your eyes.
You never felt that way with anyone else. This is not your first time to say the least, but definitely better than masturbation to say the least. It made you feel so incredibly sensitive that it left you weak, yet at the same time it made you feel powerful and desirable. “That’s my girl…” he growled in a deep voice, grabbing one of your wrists and positioning it over your head as he continued hitting your sweet spot with his thick shaft. You moaned again while tears filled your eyes from the intense pleasure he gave you.
Your breathing started becoming erratic as he kept slamming his heavy cock into you with such force. He held your face, placing soft kisses all over your exposed cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to appear on your flesh. “You feel so good, baby...” he whispered against your ear. Soon following after with, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum if you keep this up...”
“Don’t stop...” you begged breathless, feeling a shiver go down your spine as Carlos continued pumping his stiffening cock inside you. He kept pressing harder, making you cry out and bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from begging for mercy. “Please don’t stop….” You could hear your own voice quiver slightly, almost like a sob. In a moment you lost your restraint, and threw your head back, arching your back as you screamed loudly. A loud moan escaped your mouth as waves of ecstasy washed over you, and your muscles started tingling from his relentless thrusts into you.
He was getting close, you could tell, and soon he won't hold himself anymore. “Carlos…” you murmured, unable to finish your sentence because your breath was short and labored, and your voice was hoarse from screaming out.
You needed him to get you to your climax and come, now, now, now, you thought.
“Please..please…” you whimpered, feeling your body shaking with both excitement and desperation. Suddenly, everything came rushing in.
The orgasm. Carlos.
Your surroundings. Carlos’ name coming out of your mouth, His scent surrounding your whole being. You felt as if you were being penetrated by a monstrous cock very sloppily, even though you were. His warm and hard cock rubbing against your inner walls in time with his frantic thrusts. “Almost there… ah- hold out a little longer, baby…” Carlos grunted out of breath, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Your breathing was starting to come out ragged as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you climaxed once again. “That’s it, baby… Come for me…” The next few minutes passed by in a blur, each second passing with such intensity it was overwhelming you. Carlos finally stopped after a while, releasing his cum inside you.
Your throat was sore and raw from screaming and your muscles were tense and sore from all the stretching, while your back was arched which he forced you to do as your climax hit. Carlos laid beside you and pulled the sheets up around you as he kissed your temple. "Are you alright?" Your mind was fuzzy as you nodded and snuggled closer into his chest. "...Yeah," was your reply, barely above a whisper. Your eyelids were glued shut, as you struggled to stay awake.
Carlos chuckled softly. "Did I fuck you that hard?" You shook your head and mumbled in reply that you loved how wild he got. "Mmm...you're welcome." After a while you felt tired and sleep began creeping onto your consciousness. Carlos seemed to sense this and wrapped his arms tightly around you to keep you warm as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. "Get some rest, baby," he said quietly. You hummed in response as you relaxed into his hold, letting yourself drift off to sleep.
You were so tired that you were able to ignore the sound of heavy breathing, but it eventually woke you up when the covers moved slightly. Opening your eyes, and noticing your boyfriend staring at you intently. "Hey...sorry did I wake you up? Go back to sleep..." he whispered kissing the top of your head as he ran his hands gently through your hair. You buried your face deeper into his chest, and let out a small sigh as you cuddled up to his chest. Carlos laughed again, running his hand through your hair one last time before turning off the light with his other hand and lying down behind you, holding you tightly.
"I love you so much..." he said softly, kissing the crown of your head gently.
"Goodnight..." you breathed out before finally closing your eyes and falling asleep, enjoying the soothing warmth of his embrace.
2K notes · View notes
mrswint3rs · 2 months
Text
𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ❦
Tumblr media
𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 [RE men] [RE ladies] [Donna Beneviento] [Leon]
𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 ❦
❣︎ Much needed company (Sugar Daddy! Leon x Fem!) 18+
❣︎ A Step Further (Virgin! Re2 Leon x Gn!) 18+
more coming soon
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 ❦
❣︎ Death of a Bachelor (Vendetta Leon x Fem! x Vendetta Chris) 18+
❣︎ Playing Catch Up {part 1 }(sugar daddy chris x fem!) 18+
more coming soon
𝐉𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ❦
❣︎ Ink Temptress (Tattoo Artist! Jill x Fem! Reader) 18+ [Part 2]
❣︎ breakfast in bed (fluff drabble)
more coming SOON
𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬 ❦
❣︎ Uncanny Reunion (Nemesis x Fem! Reader) 18+
no plans for more
𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 ❦
❣︎ Sweet Surrender (knifeplay with wesker x fem) 18+
❣︎ A Warm Welcome Home (Stepdad! Wesker x Fem!) 18+
❣︎ In a Time of Need (Post RE5 Wesker x Gn!) 18+
❣︎ Missed Deadlines (STARS Captain! Wesker x Fem rookie) 18+
❣︎ Partner in Crime (Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant) 18+
❣︎ Paternal Paradox (Husband Wesker x Fem!) 18+ [Part 2] sfw
❣︎ Nsfw Alphabet (headcannons// wesker x gn! Reader) 18+
more coming soon
𝐋𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐚 ❦
❣︎ Exotic Temptations (Stripper! Luis x Fem!) 18+
more coming soon
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭 ❦
❣︎ Another way to pay (Merchant x Fem!) [Part 2] 18+
more coming soon
𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ❦
more coming soon
𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮 ❦
❣︎ Guilty Pleasure (Best friend’s older sister! Bela x Fem!) 18+
[Part 2]
❣︎ Where The Sun Sets (vamp stuff w bela x fem!) 18+
more coming SOON
𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 ❦
❣︎ Make Me Bad (dbf! Heisenberg x Fem!) 18+
more coming SOON
𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 ❦
❣︎ Finding Beauty in the Dissonance (drabble) 18+
more coming soon!
431 notes · View notes
dean-samw67 · 9 months
Note
Carlos Carlos carlos!
But hear me out, Leon and Carlos sandwich with reader in the middle I think I would PASS OUT.
Bonus points if it’s like…. At a gym or a pool and they’re all sweaty or wet (I will see my perverted ass out)
Hot and Heated
Carlos Oliveira x Fem!reader x Leon Kennedy
A/N: No because I will always take a Carlos x Reader x Leon!!! This is like my biggest fantasy!! Hope you enjoy! I am a little rusty so I hope I did okay! Also I am not a big fan of anal but for Carlos... ANYTHING
Warnings!: Pure self-indulgent smut, porn without a plot, unprotected sex, anal, fingering, dirty talk, threesome
Words: 2704
You had known Leon and Carlos for as long as you could remember. So it wasn’t an odd thing to find you at the gym with them occasionally. If you weren’t at the gym, you definitely were at your house with them, in your pool. 
Today just happened to be a super hot day, so both boys decided crashing your house was the way to go. You were sitting out in a pool chair, eyes closed as the two boys lounged in the pool. You were sweating heavily, even in your bikini. 
“Come on in, Y/n. You know we don’t bite.” Carlos calls you over, causing you to lift your head and look at the two men. 
They were both wet, possibly from a mix of sweat and pool water. Your tongue swipes over your lips as you drink them both in with your eyes. Yeah, you found your two friends quite attractive. Who wouldn’t? And to have both of them in swimsuits in your pool was any person's dream come true. 
Carlos runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Due to it being wet, it held from his face. You sigh with a small smirk to yourself as you get up from the chair. 
“I guess.” You playfully act annoyed. 
“Are we not good enough for you?” Leon chuckles as you sit at the edge of the pool, slipping your legs into the cool water. It did feel nice with how hot it is outside. 
“She’s just a stubborn one, Leon. She just needs a little…” Carlos’s hand wraps around your ankle, a smirk spreading across his face. “Push.” Before you could react, Carlos yanks you into the water. You had enough time to hold your breath as you went under and then come back up, wiping your face as you gasp. 
“Carlos!” You smack him in the chest as you come back from his sudden surprise. 
“What? I was cooling you off.” Carlos chuckles as he watches you with a proud smirk. You give him a small glare as you back up in the water. 
“And this is why Leon is my favorite.” You hook your arm with Leon’s as you stop next to him. 
“I am?” A soft blush reaches Leon’s cheeks as he looks down at you. 
“Come on, Darling. I didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t be like that.” Carlos chuckles as his eyes scan up and down your body. You roll your eyes at the dark haired man and then look at Leon, standing on your toes in the water and kissing his cheek. Yeah, maybe you were trying to get a rise out of Carlos. You loved it though. Leon gasps as his face becomes a deeper shade of red. It made you giggle as you landed back on your feet under the water. Carlos smirks and dives under the water. You watch as his figure gets closer underneath you. You squeal as he jumps up and out of the water, right behind you, his hands then resting on your hips. You were now in between the two of them, your face now red. 
“Aw, are you gonna get shy now?” Carlos stares down at you as his thumbs rub circles on your hips, causing your heart to beat so loud you couldn’t even hear yourself think. 
“No.” You scoff as you roll your eyes, looking at Leon, who now faces you. You bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the nerves get to you. Stuck between two, hot, half naked, wet men. Yeah, you had to be dreaming. But the tightening of Carlos’s grip made it feel just as real as it is. 
“She’s pretty like this, huh, Leon?” Carlos chuckles. 
“She is.” Leon’s thumb strokes over your cheek as you meet his eye. You can feel as Carlos leans closer to your ear, his hot breath brushing your skin. 
“You have goosebumps.” He whispers against your ear, his nose skimming over your skin. 
“What?” You gasp as you pull your eyes from Leon and look back at Carlos. 
“You have goosebumps.” His hand rises out of the water and trails over your arm, where the hair stood up. “And I know there is no way you are cold.” 
“How do you know that?” 
“Because you are stuck between two warm bodies and it is already pretty hot out.” Carlos chuckles in your ear, sending more shivers along your body. It is like electricity as you feel Leon’s hands caress over your sides. You take a deep inhale as you close your eyes, taking in all the feelings. 
“Give us the word, and we will do it.” Carlos whispers. It. You knew exactly what he meant. It was something you had wanted to do for quite a while. 
“Please.” You beg, your voice just above the whisper. With that one word, Carlos was attacking your neck with kisses, which made your heart pound even louder from the action. As Carlos was working on one side of your neck, Leon leans forward and leaves kisses along the other side. It made you let out a gasp of pure enjoyment as both men step closer to you, Carlos tightly against your back and Leon’s chest against yours. 
You had experienced pleasure before but this… this was something you couldn’t put into words. Words couldn’t describe how you felt in this moment. It was raw and beautiful and it didn’t matter about anything besides that it felt amazing. Carlos’s hand slips across your front and into your bottoms. His fingers just grace over your clit causing a jolt of pleasure and a loud gasp to release from the back of your throat. 
He lets out a dark chuckle against your neck and moves his fingers back over your clit, placing pressure on it. He rubs slow, torturous circles as you let out lewd noises that filled the air. You grip onto Leon’s arms, looking for stability anywhere. You had no doubt your neighbors would know what was going on in your backyard, even if it was fenced in. 
“You make such pretty noises.” Leon whispers against your neck as his hands move up your sides to cup your breasts. You were breathing heavily as you rested your head back on Carlos’s shoulder. 
“She does, doesn’t she?” Carlos had a wide smirk plastered on his face as he was still rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Fuck…” You let out a heavy gasp, your chest heaving up and down into Leon’s hands. 
“Well, that's not such a pretty word coming from those pretty lips.” Carlos’s voice was extremely cocky. 
“Shut up.” Your hips buck against his hand as he slows his rubbing even more. 
“Ah, ah, ah. Do you want to be rewarded with our touch? Because if so, you need to be nicer.” You open your eyes and look up at him with a glare as you continue to moan and gasp softly, your breath hitting his face. “I mean…” Carlos begins to remove his hand from your bikini bottoms. You grip his wrist quickly with one of your hands. 
“No… please don’t stop.” You whimper as you feel the pleasure receding. Leon glances up at Carlos, your breasts still in his hands, but not moving. 
“But you were being mean. That doesn’t deserve a reward.” Carlos raises an eyebrow. 
“No… I didn’t mean it… Carlos.” You whimper as you reach your hand up to his face and cup it in your desperate need to get him and Leon to please you again. 
“I don’t know, darling. I don’t think you deserve it.” His eyes lock with yours. 
“Please.” You beg, leaning up a bit and pressing your lips softly to his for a few moments. He smiles softly in the kiss just before you pull away. 
“Good girl.” He chuckles as his fingers find your clit again sending a jolt of electric pleasure through your body, causing you to tremble a bit under his touch. Leon takes to now slip his hands under your bikini top and massaging your breasts under his hands, his palms swiping your nipples as he does so. 
Your hand that was on Carlos’s face slides up to his hair, gripping at the thick locks. Your other hand claws into Leon’s arm. This was just some touching. You were completely at their mercy. Leon leaves gentle kisses along your chest and shoulders. You arch your back, your chest pressing further into Leon’s hands. 
Each touch just sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. Each gasp becomes a little louder. And just as you felt yourself beginning to reach the finish, Carlos slips a finger into your hole, his thumb still working on your clit. 
“Oh shit!” You whimper at the unexpected, but welcomed, feeling. Carlos’s other hand takes your face by the chin. 
“Language, darling.” He smirks, enjoyment coming from messing with you. Your eyelids flutter closed as your eyes roll back, his middle finger moving in and out of your cunt. In the midst of it all, Leon pulls down the cup of your top and leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue working wonders. 
“Carlos… Leon…” Both their names came out as broken cries of pleasure. Your legs were trembling under the water as your nails drag along Leon’s bicep. With a light tug at Carlos’s hair, and a grunt earned from it, you are whimpering wildly as your walls clench on Carlos’s finger with your release. As Carlos slows his pace and pulls his hand from your bottoms, Leon lifts his head from your nipple. Both of them had eyes on you, soaking in your post orgasm state. 
Your breathing was heavy as you looked up through hooded eyelids, meeting Leon’s eyes. “You’re such a mess already.” He had a small smirk on his face. 
“And we aren’t even finished with ya’.” Carlos chuckles as his nose brushes against your neck, the smell of your arousal and sweat, turning him on further. You could already feel it. Him and Leon were both erect and their swim trunks were tight. 
“I need you both to take me.” You beg as you glance between the two of them. 
“At the same time?” Leon looked at you in a small state of shock. 
“I have multiple holes for a reason.” You seductively bit down on your bottom lip as you meet his eye. 
“I like how your dirty little mind works, Y/n.” Carlos lets out a low, dark chuckle that came from his chest. 
Within an instant the two of them had you completely undressed in between them before discarding their own trunks. All your clothing was tossed onto the ground at the side of the pool. You could now feel each of their erect cocks, rubbing against your skin. Leon’s against your stomach, and Carlos’s against your back and ass. 
You gasp as you feel Carlos lift you up, hands on your inner thighs so your legs are spread open. You lean back against his chest for stability, Leon’s hands holding you by the hips. Carlos leans against the wall of the pool as the two of them hold you up. It was obvious they didn’t need assistance from each other to hold you up but it made it all hotter. 
“You go in her first.” Carlos grunts as he looks at Leon. Leon nods and you feel his tip rub against your entrance. He meets your eye and a small nod was all he needed to push his whole cock into you at once. You let out a cry of pleasure, and a small amount of pain. It had been a while since you had sex so it was a bit uncomfortable at first. But within a few thrusts your walls wrapped around his length perfectly. 
“You ready, darling?” Carlos whispers in your ear, his accent strong with each word. It had you melting in his arms. 
“Yes…” You let out a breathy moan as Leon places his hand on one of your thighs for Carlos. Carlos takes a hold of his cock and lines up with your ass. His tip grazes your tight hold and it causes you to tense a bit. You never took someone back there before. 
“You need to let yourself relax.” Carlos rubs circles into your thigh he was still holding as Leon slows to a stop to let your body calm. You let out a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting my body relax, waiting for him. You feel Carlos reach to your pussy and smear some of your wetness to your back end and his cock, to lube you up. You were soaked that even the water wasn’t completely washing it away. Carlos lines up with your hole and very cautiously sinks in with a groan. You let out a whimper of pain, the walls of your ass clenching tightly on him. 
“Fuck… It- it's so tight…” Carlos stutters with a grunt. You were shaking as he bottoms out and places his hand back on your thigh. He places his forehead against your shoulder as he gasps. As he holds his place to let your body adjust, Leon begins his pace again in an attempt to allow pleasure to take over the pain. 
“Shit… She's clenching so much.” Leon whimpers as his fingertips dig into your hips. Each movement sent the water around you three splashing a bit. Your eyes roll back as the feeling of it all quickly becomes a lot. You felt full. Your body is in a mix of pain and pleasure, already overstimulated from earlier. With slow, long thrusts, Carlos begins to move.
It started off painful but each move was a step closer to your body giving into the pleasure the two men were bringing you. Within a few minutes both men were thrusting into your holes at fast paces that had your jaw hanging open, your moans piercing the air. All that could be heard was grunts, groans and cries of pleasure, mixed with the splashing of the water. 
It didn’t take long for your body to begin to tremble against theirs. “You like that?” Leon mutters against the skin of your chest, kissing it. 
“Yeah, she does. She loves being this full with the cocks of her two best friends.” Carlos grunts out as he drinks in the mess they were making you. It was a beautiful sight. Mouth open, body practically limp and to their mercy now, eyes rolled back, cheeks flushed, and body damp from a mix of sweat and water. 
The two mens rhythms lined up perfectly, slamming deeply into your holes, which clenched hard on them. Neither of them thought they could last long, but it was clear you couldn’t either. 
“Where do you want us to cum, sweetheart?” Carlos gasps into your ear. 
“Inside. Inside me, please. Fill me up.” You whine through the pleasure, each stroke pushing me to the edge. The louder they got was more of a signal to their pending release. Your whole body was shaking from head to toe. Even the guys were trembling. You had your back roughly pressed against Carlos’s chest, nails digging into the flesh of Leon’s shoulders. 
“I can’t hold on…” Leon gasps as he buries his face in your neck. One last thrust and he was finished, coating your walls with his seed. It took a few more thrusts out of Carlos to then release his hot cum inside your ass. This all sent you over the edge as they both filled you up. Your body shivered with its release as you arch your back, letting out loud whines. 
Each of you came down from your highs with heavy breathing as both men stilled inside you. Your body, now completely limp in their arms, could barely move aside from trembling. 
“How about we clean you up and take you inside?” Carlos’s lips skim over the temple of your head. 
“We can lay with you in between us.” Leon cups your cheek with a gentle hand. 
You give a breathless nod with a small smile, having a strong feeling this wasn’t over.
Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
agender-wolfie · 1 year
Text
Guys. Stop tagging your OC stories as X reader. It’s hard to sift through and I don’t go to the x reader tag for OC’s I don’t care about .
5K notes · View notes
stuckinthesun · 11 months
Text
Thinking about riding Carlos, getting him so worked up, that he just hooks his arms under your thighs and fucks you on and off his cock like a toy. His hands are gripping your skin hard enough to bruise and all you can do is hold on for the ride, tucking your face in the crook of his neck as he whispers incoherent praise.
“Fuck you feel so good on my cock babygirl, so nice and wet for me. Gonna make me cum inside and fill your pussy up, that what you want? Huh? F-fuck doll. So good, so g-good for me, s-shit I’m c-cumming-“
1K notes · View notes
roseglazedlens · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐁𝐨𝐲’𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
➠ series masterlist | ⏪prologue | 🔃girl's route | ⏩resolution |
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY X AFAB GN! READER CARLOS OLIVEIRA X AFAB GN! READER synopsis: Leon, Carlos, and you, ventures into the laboratory downstair to investigate the mysterious gas. Something about the place doesn't sit well with you... content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐂𝐎𝐍, canon-typical violence, zombie fucking, threesome, love triangle, positions (doggy, cowgirl, eiffel tower), double penetration (one hole), oral (m receiving), throatpie (extreme), creampies (extreme), grinding (a lot), face-fucking, swallowing, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, gaping, frotting, masturbation (reader), use of restraints (handcuffs), impregnation kink, degradation kink, corruption kink, breeding, cum inflation, womb fucking, body indentation, fingering, zombie transformation, body worship, body horror, cumdump, mutual(?) pining. mentions of: sexual experiments, medical syringes, disagreements, fist fights, wounds (graphic), blood (a lot), firearms, knives, & death. a/n: thank you all of you sweethearts for waiting on & supporting this series, it means so deeply to me, really. my recommended order is to read girl's route before this to build tension, but it is optional (though appreciated). lots of plot in this installment, enjoy!!! « 12.2 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »
Tumblr media
Your objective today—retrieve the concentrated sample from Arias’ mansion and escape.
And so far, things have been smooth sailing. A bit too smooth sailing. In the span of three hours with you and your team in this freakish mansion, not an enemy appears in your sight. Nothing formidable or sentient anyway, just stray zombies along your path that you silently eliminate without mercy and afterthought. This is nothing to you—after all, you have survived countless zombie outbreaks prior to this, and that had ingrained you with reflexes and level-headedness to combat any feat.
Thoughts about the saferoom, again, drifts into the back of your mind. You recall a constant hiss whispering from the vents, and a brooding gas before dispersing into thin air—seemingly left the five of you unscathed. You have suspicions that this may be an ambush, but of what kind?
It never hurts being too careful in this line of work, especially with bioweapons. One wrong move, and it’s game over. No re-dos or second chances. Despite your reluctance to split up into two teams, you agree to join Leon and Carlos to seek the laboratory downstairs—which Rebecca suspects to be the source of the gas—and find the cause of this unexplained mystery.
There are no lamps in the hallway leading to laboratory, only the full moon illuminating the silent, cramped corridor. You smell death on the floors, the mould deafening your nose with a hint of what smells like rot in all four corners. The walls are lined with formal sitting down portraitures of Arias, Arias’ father, and his father before, dating back to the first Arias in the 1800s. Then, the paintings repeat, over and over down this bottomless stretch of wallpaper.
“How’re you holding up?” Leon approaches you from your side, a palm resting on his forehead and on yours to check your temperature.
Ever since you contracted a slight cough, Leon checks on your condition regularly, perhaps more doting than his other teammates. His excuse: “Just making sure my team is safe”. And it makes sense—Leon is a natural protector after all, especially among his friends. He verifies your temperature, normal. Then your pulse, normal enough, perhaps a tad faster than usual.
“For the third time today, I’m good. Eyes forward, Leon.” You roll your eyes to the side, gesturing at the direction in front of him with your Blacktail pistol.
“Just checking in.” Leon lets out a harmless grin, unphased by your cold reaction. His free hand brings itself onto the crown of your head, almost instinctually, threading through strands with slow, loving movements. The ruffling gets your attention, but this time, you don’t dust his hand off your head like you normally would.
He notices this. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” You remove his hand from your head, fixing your hair to keep your hands busy in the lie.
“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”
Leon sees through you anyway, like always. He leans in now, close enough that you can feel his breath against the tip of your nose. You peek up, the cerulean in his gaze peeled onto every twitch of your reaction, swimming in the sight of you. A little self-conscious, you clear your throat lightly, but audible enough for Leon to notice how close he is. He backs away in arduous embarrassment.
You change the topic quickly before things turn more awkward from here. “Just thinking about Jill and Ada, that’s all.” And that is the truth, to some degree. Ever since the girls ventured upstairs to Arias’ office, you can’t stop thinking about them.
“Oh, they’ll be fine. I may not trust Ada, but I gave Jill my word.” Leon nods. “I’ve worked with them both—I know they got this.”
Leon does his best to reassure you, and as much as you appreciate the gesture, some part of you can’t shake away this weighted feeling within. There is no reason to doubt their abilities; as they have proven to be beyond competent with their jobs. The five of you have been selected for this mission, for this very reason.
“Yeah.” You agree, albeit a bit forced. “You’re right.”
“That’s the spirit.” Leon’s features relax, chest puffed up slightly in confidence that he can comfort you. His hand comes up to meet you on the cheek, lightly pressing your cheeks together. “Getting so worked up for your friends. It’s really cute when you do that.”
“Yeah sure. You say that with just anything about me.” Leon had called you cute so many times, the word starts to sound like sarcasm.
“Well that’s because I-”
A bare tint of redness creeps onto Leon’s face, barely visible when shaded behind the moonlight. Leon stumbles on the words to explain himself, but before he can tell you them, a hand comes down to press hard on one of his shoulders. Leon breaks his train of thought when he almost falls into his unbalanced leg.
“What about me, pretty boy? Any compliments for me?” Leon turns to find Carlos and his signature smirk. He mutters something underneath his breath, a curse of some sort, and he brushes the hand off his shoulder.
“Haven’t found a thing to compliment you on.” Is Leon’s only snarky response. When it’s not about you, he always finds a comeback effortlessly.
“Oh come on, y’know I’m just joking.” Carlos laughs, slapping a few times against Leon’s back, playful yet hard. “Besides, we know you’re the cute one here, Leon.”
“I’m not cute. And don’t call me pretty boy.” For how often Leon uses the word ‘cute’ on you, he sure hates to be called that.
“You don’t have to get worked up by a nickname, pretty boy. It’s a compliment.”
Leon locks his eyes on Carlos in his razor-sharp gaze, but for some reason, Carlos is relaxed, unthreatened by Leon’s cautions. Until Leon breaks eye contact first in bitter acceptance. “I’d rather not be called that, thanks.”
“Are you sulking? If you want a hug you can just say so, little man.” Carlos brings his arm around Leon’s shoulder, which Carlos knows he despises. Their height and size difference is distinct, and Carlos immediately overpowers Leon in his domineering grip, suffocating Leon just a tiny bit.
“Whatever.” Leon is only able to struggle free when Carlos loosens his grip. Carlos smiles widely while Leon scowls harder.
Things between the two of them had always been unpleasant. With Carlos’ playful dominance and Leon’s stubborn seriousness, their first meeting in Raccoon City immediately hits it off the wrong way. Around you, the duo tries to be cordial to each other, sweeping their disputes under the rug, but it’s no secret to you—resentment always bubbles through.
You toss a stern expression between the two of them, so they surrender from each other’s throats and continue forward in deafening silence, until the three of you finally arrive at the laboratory door. There is a sign: [AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY]. The door is slightly ajar. On the other side of the door, it’s dark.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Carlos walks in first without hesitation. You and Leon follow behind him.
The room reeks of antiseptics, sterilization and behind all of that, the familiar artificial smell that jabs painfully into your nose. You bear with it, letting your flashlight aim forward. A faint blue light glows from a corner of the lab—some sort of lit-up computer screen. The three of you move closer to the light source.
“I’ll go around and find a light switch.” Leon says, and you see the illuminating circle of his flashlight move away from the two of you as it rustles into a different direction.
“Ah shit. My batteries’ flat.” Carlos taps at his dimming flashlight, and it turns off completely. You stand in the darkness, alone, and then you hear a creak. Probably from an appliance somewhere or a trick of wind. But in the shadows, your uneasiness doubles.
“Carlos. Are you there?” No reply.
There’s a brush of air behind you. You convince yourself it’s yet another trick of wind. But this wind, it comes right up on your shoulder, unusually soft and unsuspecting. Then, you feel a presence right beside your ear, tickling your cheeks with its luscious tendrils.
“Boo.”
The sound is no louder than a whisper, but the squeal that flees your lips is bloodcurdling nonetheless. You twist your hips with your entire body weight, swinging the Blacktail in the air out of reflex with the force of your entire elbow. Your other hand readies itself on the hilt of your knife, preparing to unsheathe and attack the figure as another line of protection in case it decides to strike again.
Your gun whiffs in the air, thankfully, missing your target. “Porra! Watch where you swing that.” The darkened figure says.
The fluorescent lights hum into life now as Leon clicks the power switch against the wall. You see Carlos ducking his head behind you. One second too late and you may have wiped the smug grin off his face with the blunt of your pistol—for better or worse. Carlos’ hands fall to his knees, suppressing a deep laugh that rises from his chest.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Carlos! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Your let your relieved hands drop from the hilt onto your sides.
“Your heart raced for me, didn’t it?”
“This is lame. Even for you.” You roll your eyes so far back to avoid making contact with his victorious smirk.
“Don’t you mean ‘charming’?”
He brings himself closer, lifting your chin up with his thumb and index fingers so your eyes are forced to meet with his. The audacity of it all makes your grimace crack into an unwilling grin, corner of your lips upturning with a will of its own. “You wish, Carlos.”
“Hell yeah, made you smile.”
You force yourself to grimace again. “Keep your mouth shut, or I’m gonna hit you for real this time.”
“Well, d’you feel better now?”
Carlos relaxes into your gaze, eyelids drooping and hazel irises dilating. Despite almost being scared out of your wits mere seconds ago, your nerves are now easing, heartbeat regulating into a constant pattern. You are grateful to have Carlos as your companion. He can warm up a room in a heartbeat, always finding ways to make everyone comfortable. And to you, that’s no exception.
“Thanks.” Carlos grins, cockier than usual, so you correct yourself. “Though your methods are terrible.”
What you didn’t notice is Leon already stalking towards the two of you, awfully curious what kind of exchange you two are having that requires such loving glances. Leon’s eyes set himself on top of Carlos first, arm reaching around your waist to pull you closer to him without speaking a single word.
“Having a good talk?” Leon doesn’t break eye contact with Carlos when he closes his fingers around your waist, catching you off guard.
“Uh ha- hey, Leon.” You feel Leon’s grip tighten, and something is telling you not to irritate him any further. Unfortunately, Carlos does not share the same sentiment.
“Take it easy, pretty boy. You upset?” Carlos lets out a chuckle, whether his intentions are to provoke or to jest, you aren’t quite sure.
“No—not at all.” But Leon’s word contradicts his actions, seemingly moving you ever so slightly away from Carlos. Leon cocks up his head, puffing out his chest to channel his larger frame, even if it only make him just a few inches shy to match Carlos in height.
“Just a bit of harmless fun, that’s all.” Carlos shrugs his shoulders, casting a wink to your direction. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“That’s enough, dickhead.” With eyes burning with a fury, Leon tugs at Carlos’ neckline, forcing him to look eye to eye. But Carlos feels no intimidation. In fact, his stance is open, slapping himself on the chest a few times to taunt his anger.
And that’s all it takes for Leon to throw the first punch. He aims his swing directly at Carlos’ face, too sudden, that neither you nor Carlos is expecting it. Carlos manages to bring his arm forward just in time to block it, taking the impact of the blow on the sides of his forearms. Carlos merely smiles in amusement like it didn’t hurt, but the spot already starts to redden.
After the first hit lands, Leon raises his fist again, unsatisfied. You quickly put yourself in between the two, stopping the fight before more injuries occur. “Enough!”
Leon pauses, of course, he would kill himself first before he hurts you in any shape or form. His fist hovers in the air, and it lowers, slow and reluctant.
The boys’ earpiece fizzles into life, and Rebecca is immediate to comment about the duo.
“What’s going on between you two? Do I need to have a word with Jill?” Rebecca lectures in her teacher voice, so loud that you can hear it through their earpieces. Nobody messes with Jill. She can, and will, teach them a lesson in less than savoury means. Leon releases Carlos by the collar, casting him aside that manages to falter Carlos’ footsteps.
“Anything but that.” Leon smooths his own shirt as he pleads for his innocence.
“You’re taking this too far, Rebecca. We don’t have to resort to violence.” Carlos too, the first real fear of the night flashes between his eyes.
“Good. Promise to behave.” Rebecca says. “Such big babies, I swear to god.”
“Speaking of Jill, haven’t heard from Jill and Ada in a minute.” She thinks out loud, before closing with a final remark. “I’ll get in contact with them. Good luck, three of you. Don’t cause trouble.”
The line closes, and with the lights turned on now, the three of you start to explore the laboratory. This time, nobody messes around after heeding Rebecca’s warning, focusing on the task at hand.
The big lamp flickers, ticking like some sort of timer, as the three of you enter the space. It looks weirdly futuristic, floors polished so clean that it reflects everything above, making you see double. Lined against the walls, you find workstations, refrigerators, and foreign machines (a dispenser perhaps?) that doesn’t quite make sense to you. In the centre, illuminated by a ring of fluorescent lights, displays a gas tank triple the size of you, like a strange kind of monument.
A gas funnels out the top shaft, hoisting the substance into the vents up above, presumably, to the safe room where the five of you were. As you approach the control panel, the synthetic, nasty smell overwhelms you so much you have to clutch your nose. You press the red square button. The tank stops rumbling, and no more gas runs out from the other end.
“This must be how they did it.” Leon comments, pacing around the cylinder to read the labels on it, but the ink had been melted into illegibility. “I can’t read any of the labels.”
“So you were right, pretty boy. It’s an ambush.” Carlos says. They had known that the five of you are coming. But for how long?
You think this through. If this is an ambush, why had there been no attack? There must be a reason the three of you are standing on your feet right now, and not becoming zombie fodder in Arias’ schemes. “Nothing about this makes sense.”
Leon nods in agreement, but there is still more in this room they haven’t investigated yet. He walks into the direction of the monitor screen. “Maybe we can find more info here.” The two of you follow.
A team works here, or at least used to, with how loose paper scatters across the floor and the aftermath of test tubes fallen into thousands of pieces, ruining the surface of the station with corrosive liquid. Whoever worked here had to evacuate, fast. And it didn’t seem that long ago either.
Leon clicks with the mouse a few times, and it boots up, flickering into life. He enters the first profile, and to no one’s surprise, he reads: “It’s password protected.” You tsk out loud, bumping your fist on the desk with slight frustration. “Please scan employee card for access.” The scanner pad lights up.
“Where are we gonna find an access card?” Leon asks.
Carlos looks around the laboratory, and behind the tank, he sees a double glass window looking into a separate, contained room—an interrogation room of some sort. A labcoat figure lies in the centre of that room, and in front of her chest, a lanyard prints a single word in bold: STAFF. Bloodstains surround the figure; the woman lays limps on the medical bed. Maybe even dead.
“Score.” You and Leon turn around and join Carlos in front of the glass window.
“I don’t like this at all.” You say, can’t help but notice the blood looks fresh.
“Sounds like someone’s scared.” Carlos is quick to pick on you, entertained by how your grip is putting pressure onto your Blacktail, shaking ever so slightly.
“Ha. You wish.” You quickly straighten yourself up. “Bold of you to think you can scare me twice.”
“Oh don’t worry. I won’t resort to cheap tricks like that. But if you’re scared, you can always jump into my arms.” Carlos jokes, but you know enough to tell there is always a bit of truth behind his playful demeanour. You roll your eyes in response, determined to not give him a reaction that will set you up for more teasing.
“That’s enough, Carlos.” Leon brings his hand down right between the two of you, a little furrowed eyebrow hangs on his face. “You’re going too far.”
“Unless you want to take one for the team, pretty boy?” Carlos’ eyes land on Leon, and there it is again, the spark of hatred. It quickly dissolves as they slowly recall Rebecca’s threat.
“We shouldn’t separate. Let’s go in together. That guarantees our best chance of survival.” Leon, of course, comes up with the most logical answer. But Carlos is anything but logical right now. He wants to see Leon tremble in fear.
“C’mon pretty boy. You afraid?”
Leon hesitates for a second; his pride not allowing him to refuse the challenge. Especially not to a guy like Carlos. There is something in Leon that wants to prove himself in front of you. “Fine. Just no funny business, Oliveira.”
“Oh, you flatter me.” Carlos holds the door open for Leon, mocking a condescending bow just to add fuel to the fire. Leon hesitates one more time before moving. He thinks to himself: in spite of their disagreements, Carlos is not the type to sabotage the team. Still, that isn’t his main concern. Leon is more worried about what Carlos will do to you without him there.
“Aww, miss me already?” Carlos provokes.
Against his better judgement, Leon steps in the room with resolution. The heavy door closes behind him. A faint click of metal hinges come together resonate from the other side. There is a tiny exposed window at the door for Leon to see through. He mouths and gestures the word from the soundproof room: “I’ll be watching you.”
Carlos smiles. “Watch me as much as you want.”
Tumblr media
LEON
The interrogation room is bright, clinically so. The walls are tiled with white, and there is nothing else in the room but the medical bed in the centre. It certainly doesn’t look like a room used for interrogations, but more of an experiment chamber, for isolation and observation by researchers from the other side of the screen. Just being in the room sends a shiver up Leon’s spine.
The lone researcher on the bed starts to growl, waking from its slumber, and rushes forward to attack Leon with its twisted, crushed fingers. Leon draws his CQBR assault rifle and takes out the zombie’s head. It collapses onto the floor harshly as Leon swaps out his magazine.
“H-Help…” The researcher groans, before her head plops onto the cold, bleached tiles.
A moment of weakness overcomes Leon as the zombie speaks. He momentarily forgets that he is fighting a zombie; did he just shoot a human? But it definitely looked like a zombie—lifeless skin and erratic movement—there’s no doubt about it. Yet at the zombie’s death, it speaks like a human uttering their final breath. And were those tears running down his cheeks? Leon had never seen a zombie like this.
He checks the body one more time to make sure it’s dead. There is no movement. He rolls the body to face the ceiling, so the lanyard can be easily removed around her neck. Upon close inspection, that is when Leon realises the body is stark naked underneath the lab coat. What kind of experiments is Arias doing here?
There isn’t any time to waste or to contemplate about the dead. Leon looks away from the body out of respect, covering it up. When he circles the lanyard over her head, something falls on the floor behind her. A gentle thump with something shaking inside. The lady was holding a square case, guarding it with her life. There is a report taped onto the top of the case. Picking it up, Leon reads it:
CATHY WHITE DECEASED Female, Caucasian Success Rate: 48% The latent virus had been injected into the subject prior before moving to Phase 2. The subject’s vitals are normal throughout. On Day 3, prototype [__] (the word is smudged with blood) was released, upon inhaling the smoke, the subject started to show signs of zombie infection. Symptoms include: high pain tolerance, cravings for human flesh, heightened sexual arousals, violent outbreaks, enhanced speed and physical strength. During the transformation, the subject’s breath oozes with pheromones to attract their prey. Handle them with caution. The subject also remained sentient, and when interrogated with their memories, was able to successfully recall events dating back to the subject’s childhood. That makes it possible for them to disguise among other humans. In the final phase, subject is successfully impregnated, however, both the baby and mother died during childbirth. With further investigation, we can refine the virus so the infant may survive. The subject's teeth discharges traces of their blood, using their teeth as a weapon to transmit the virus into a new host. We have provided a cure in this case, to use for emergencies only.
Parts of this document feel very familiar to your current situation. So this zombie—no, this researcher—she’s still conscious? Leon clenches his fist together, heavy guilt coursing through his body for killing a civilian. Yes, even if it was for self-defence, it still guilts at his chest regardless.
Now with overwhelming urgency, Leon needs to find this cure fast. He needs to show you and Carlos this document and watch for all these symptoms.
Leon flips to the next sheet, containing rows and rows of scientific jargon and exact numbers and results to this experimentation. None of this comprehensible to Leon, but perhaps it may be useful for Rebecca. He opens the case underneath it. There is one medical syringe inside. It has a clear substance with a metallic shimmer. There should be another syringe inside, but it’s missing.
So this is the cure? If Leon sends all these data back to Rebecca, she may be able to use this for her research. As Leon thinks about Rebecca, his earpiece lights up, speaking of the devil, and Leon answers the call immediately.
“Rebecca! I found some info on the virus.” Leon says as he pockets the access card, case, and report all into his gear. “There’s some other interesting stuff in here too. I’ll send them over ASAP.”
“We need to talk, Leon.” Rebecca tries to keep her voice calm, but it’s apparent that she had been running around her lab. “Something bad has happened.”
“What’s going on?”
“Jill… Ada… I can’t reach them… I think they’ve turned.”
“Turned? Turned when?”
“I’m not sure.” Urgency floods at her words as she types something hastily in the background. “I think they are. The last thing I heard was something grumbling in the background, like a zombie. Then silence. I can’t reach them anymore.”
“Shit.” Horror sinks into Leon’s face, panic settling into adrenaline. Leon thought he had more time before someone got into danger.
“This is a much aggressive virus, Leon. All of you, get out of there, now.” Rebecca makes another call in the background simultaneously. “I’m sending back-up. Hold on tight.”
“I think I know what caused this. The gas is an ambush. I saw it in the lab report. But how?” Leon thinks with his fingers between his chin.
“Before I lost signal, there was a message. The word ‘water’. Not sure what that means.”
Water. What can this mean? Some kind of water source—A river? Rain? And after a short moment of reasoning, something clicks in Leon’s head. It makes sense now. He knows how Arias had been ambushing them right from the very beginning.
“The water. Of course.” All the evidence is connecting inside Leon’s brain.
“What’s making sense, Leon?” Rebecca almost cries out to snap Leon out of his ‘aha’ moment.
“There’s more than one virus. You have to be infected twice to turn.” Leon reads the report once more, clarifying all the details in his head.
“So you’re talking about some sort of water supply working in conjunction with the gas?” Rebecca asks.
“Yes. If my guess is right.”
“Are you saying Jill and Ada drank the water supply…?”
“Not just Jill.”
Leon spins his head with utmost urgency, hoping that he is wrong. There are only two people who have drank from the water bottles in the safe room, and one of them is presumed dead. Darting across the tiny window through the door, Leon catches something in the corner of his peripheral. The tall muscular figure leaning down; both of his hands cupping your cheek, and Carlos’ lips right on top of yours.
It’s too late.
Tumblr media
CARLOS & YOU
Carlos closes the big metal door shut, his hand swiftly going around the lock to secure it in place. That’ll teach Leon a lesson. Don’t worry, he’ll let Leon out when the time comes. But won’t it be so funny to see him struggle the door open? Carlos chuckles devilishly under his breath, and he turns to find you leaning against the tank, watching Leon take down the researcher on the other side.
Even when it’s just the two of you, your eyes somehow always finds its way to Leon. Carlos joins your side, trying not to feel defeated so soon. The two of you stand in silence for a moment, before you abruptly break it:
“You can be a bit nicer to Leon, you know.” You cross your arms as you speak, eyes catching on the clock above the glass that leaps to your attention. The antique décor stands out decadently amongst the futuristic laboratory; its clockface a gold emblem plate of a lyre, a snakehead at each curved end of its arm. You pay no mind to Arias’ strange interior design decisions and return your gaze to Leon.
“Of course you’re on his side.” Carlos sighs through his smile. He follows your sight to stare at whatever you’re looking at too. He can’t tell what you’re thinking through your blank expression.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You toss him a side eye.
“Leon swung first.” Carlos says, massaging at the spot in his arm, bruising a swollen purple. “It hurts you know. Pretty boy is such a heavy-hitter. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he wanted to knock me out. And hey… If you’ll give me a kiss, it’ll heal faster.”
You ignore Carlos. “You were making comments.”
“And he took those comments personally.” Carlos shrugs; there is no remorse in his eyes. And then he sighs heavily, but not heavy enough to take the weight off his chest. “You have no idea, huh.”
Carlos stands right in front of you, pulling you by your hand, meeting you face to face. You peek at him before looking away flustered. He seems sincere, no longer that playful smile or teasing about kissing you, like there is something he needs to tell you. “Do I have to spell it out to you?” Carlos’ voice is husky yet when he leans in. 
You clear your throat, feet planting to the floor to not let Carlos push into your space any further. Turning your head, you gaze strongly into his eyes. “What’re you talking about?”
“C’mon, can I make this anymore obvious?”
Carlos pulls you into his embrace, cutting off the tension bubbling towards the surface, and wraps his arms around you. His lips crashes onto yours, and his tongue is telling how long Carlos had been wanting you, waiting for you to notice. The kiss is gentle at first, slightly hesitant. After your lips are accustomed to each other, Carlos grows bolder, rolling your bottom lip between his, and you smack your teeth open to taste your tongue against his. It tastes like the soft bud of a candy. Carlos grasps you hard now, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. There is something in that kiss that changes your brain chemistry, almost like magic. Your lips part, taking a heavy breath from the action.
“Is this obvious enough?” Carlos mutters, and you nod obediently.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The abrupt, punching noise is coming from the door. The knob turns erratically a few times, but it doesn’t click open. Its hinges slams against the lock mechanism. You can hear muffled screaming from the other side.
You should let Leon out, you think, but Carlos traps you in his assertive kiss once more. Both of his hands come around your back, circling them in his tight, comforting hug. Even when your body commands you to move, you can’t. Do you really enjoy the kiss so much?
Leon bangs onto the glass, it doesn’t break; instead, you can hear the hollowed hard thump in front of you. You look at Leon, suddenly guilty for no reason, and your hands come forward to push Carlos away. But your hands are weak in his love.
“Eyes on me, darling.” Carlos takes control of you, peppering kisses on the corner of your lips. What you and Carlos have together isn’t kissing anymore—it’s more like an exploration of tongue, leaving you to gasp for air whenever your lips temporarily parts, just to close them together in his eagerness.
“Leo—” kiss. “—Could’b—” another kiss. “—in troub—”.
Carlos peppers kisses on the corner of your mouth, down your exposed neck ready for him, and into the crook between your shoulder. His curls tickle against you lightly, and you let out a slight giggle as he kisses you down.
“Que pescoço bonito…” Carlos mumbles, his lips softening around your skin. It starts with a light, teasing bite, nothing far of a nibble. All of the sudden, the lovingness mutates into something else, something possessive. He suckles the soft skin between his lips, focusing on a particular spot, and it sends a light pain onto your neck.
“Carlos… I think that’s enough now…” You wince slightly.
But he doesn’t pull away. Worse—Carlos sinks his canines into your skin, ripping out the flesh from within and feeding onto the softness with it a twinkle of joy in his eyes. Pieces of your muscle fall out, blood streaming from the sides of his mouth as Carlos’ head cocks to the air, swallowing his meal in a loud content gulp. You fall to the floor, faint groans muttering in agony; your hands try to press down the wound, but the bleeding just won’t stop.
The door bangs louder. Leon thinks, “fuck it,” as he lunges his entire body weight against the door that holds him hostage in this tiny room. The lock clangs, hinge weakened from the impact, and so Leon spin kicks right underneath the knob and it finally breaks, crashing open outwards.
“The hell is wrong with you!” He resists the urge to pin Carlos against the wall right at this instant. That’s not the time or place now, Leon needs to take you to safety first and foremost.
He sprints towards your direction to pick your fallen self from the floor, blood mixed with flesh crumbs trickling like a muddy stream through the gaps of your fingers, pooling around your head. Leon checks your pulse: You are still breathing, thank goodness for that. But not for long. The forked veins along your wrists starts to darken, until they are fully visible through the river of your arms: you’re turning.
He retrieves the case from his gear, then the syringe. Leon can’t let you turn—not you, anyone else but you. Turning you sideways, he removes the syringe cap, crosses his fingers, and injects it right below your shoulder cap. You start to pant, muffled like something is strangling you in your sleep and eating you out from the inside. The agonised moans escalate louder and louder, until it finally stops.
Leon’s heart tightens. He checks your pulse again, but there is none. The black veins continue to crawl closer inside of you, twisting and turning through the labyrinth to reach your heart’s core.
“Shit, shit, shit! The cure isn’t working.” Leon throws the empty syringe across the floor, and it breaks into shards on the floor. “C’mon. Stay with me. Please.”
As if his pleas have been heard, your hand rises, coming on top of his hand. Leon lets out a sigh of relief for a second, before your fingers tighten with the strength of a bear on top of his clenched fist, digging your claws into it. Your eyes fly open, and Leon sees your irises dilating so far it turns hollow, void of colour and soul.
“Leon…” Your words tear through his heart in a million different ways.
“Not you too.” His voice hitches.
Your fingers hook into Leon’s pliant skin, until it bleeds through the calloused surface on the back of his palms, dragging them down for a straight cut. A sharp pain runs along his hands, nothing Leon can’t handle, but it will most likely leave a scar. He somersaults backwards, hand coming down to prepare his rifle, and ready to aim when he recovers into a stand. Leon can’t bring himself to aim at you. So he aims his gun’s barrel directly at Carlos.
Carlos doesn’t react, merely licks his bloodied lips clean. “Look at him, poor little thing.”
Leon clenches his gun and twists the selector on his rifle, firing a burst of three rounds directly at Carlos. They all miss. Carlos dodges all three bullets with animalistic speed, smiling through it, and disappoints when Leon holds his fire at the sight.
“What do you want, Oliveira?” Leon spits out; there’s no use wasting ammunition right now.
“Just a bit of fun, pretty boy.” Carlos utters, his grin stretching so wide that his features become distorted. “Care to play with us?”
“Fat chance.”
Blood is no longer gushing out of your neck. The hand supporting it lets go, finding the blood dry. If there is supposed to be pain, you don’t sense it. In fact, you feel the opposite. Recharged and spirited than ever before. Your body moves like butter, but then again, you don’t remember moving them.
Your body creeps behind Leon’s back, and push down his two elbows, clasping the two arms together behind him in one swift momentum. The rifle falls to the floor. “I’m so hungry, Carlos.” The whines that escape your mouth are not yours even if it did comes out of your own. It plants love marks on Leon’s trapezius, tainting his pale skin with redness. “Can I have him already? I want him now. so. bad.”
Somewhere within you cringe at those words, but your physical manoeuvres with a mind of its own, regardless of your intentions. It chases your thoughts away, until it falls and falls into a dark well behind your sockets. And with one final push, your mind shuts you out, numbing your resistance as your hollow grin turns wider.
“Remember. He isn’t ours.” Carlos corrects you, but you don’t seem to be listening, merely focusing on the blond in front of you. “But we can still have a bit of fun.”
“Fun, fun…” You smack your lips like a mechanical doll, inching them closer to Leon’s lips through the blankness of your gaze. The warmth of your skin fades as your nails grasp against his neck with aggressive affection, like you can and will break his neck out of his cuteness. Leon flinches his face sideways, holding in his nostrils to not take in your poisoned breath even as you drool over his checks like a beast in heat. Despite how you have taken form of your human body, that’s the end of the resemblance between the real you and this… monster.
An idea forms in Carlos’ head right before you sink your teeth into Leon, and he stops you. “Don’t turn him yet.” Carlos says. “I want to taste him fresh.”
Your lips twist in disappointment, in spite of your intrigue, you are unable to keep your lips filling the entirety of Leon’s neck with your love marks. Under a different kind of circumstances, Leon would absolutely love this from you. But this isn’t you. He doesn’t know if any part of you is still inside.
“So what d’you say, pretty boy? We’ll treat you really well.” Carlos says. Surely, Leon won’t agree to this. Perhaps a swift death will be less agonising than whatever the two of you have in store for him. At the same time, Leon remembers the piece of important evidence in his gear. He can’t afford to die right now—the hope of mankind lies in his pocket. 
As Leon pauses to consider his options, his earpiece cries out, and Rebecca blurts from the other side of the call: “Leon! I’m sending a chopper to the rescue. Mike’s on his way. I need you to stall for time before he arrives.”
Leon pretends he never heard the transmission in fear of rousing suspicion. Stall for time, huh? Leon can certainly do that. There is nowhere else out of here. Between him and the exit, it’s roughly fifteen feet. He can run now, but it will not take the two of your combined forces long to catch up. If he plays your stupid games, Leon may have a chance at survival. And so does humanity. Maybe.
“Fine.” Leon says. “Think I can fit it in my schedule.”
“Charmer as always, pretty boy.” Carlos grins, bringing Leon’s chin up to bring him in for a kiss. Carlos purrs into the kiss, and the gentle, tingling vibration sends a gentle gulp down Leon’s throat, almost rising into a moan, but he refrains it—out of pride.
“Fuck off.” Leon utters the word quietly.
“You kinda like this, don’t you?” Even if it’s the truth, Leon will never admit this, especially knowing that he, to some degree, is still the dickhead Carlos he knows. But damn, Carlos can sure kiss well. So much so that Leon is leaning in, increasingly harder to resist the onslaught of warm softness on top of his own. But like hell Leon would ever admit to something like this.
You break away his wrists, unable to wait any longer. Your knees and palms land against the icy floor, eye level to his crotch. Leon swallows, taking in the sight with a mix of reluctance and eagerness.
You smack your wet lips when you pull Leon’s zipper down. Leon swallows halfway, holding his breath instead. This is all part of his ploy to stall time for the rescue, but the sight of you—zombie or not—on your knees in front of him had been the item of his imaginations for years. For a moment, watching your eyelashes flutter underneath him with a drunken expression, like a trick of the light or his imagination, Leon thinks it’s you. He has fantasised about the different scenarios to catch you in this position, but now in person, Leon doesn’t even know where to put his hands.
Noticing this, you let out a youthful giggle. You unbuckle his pants, and the chuckle stops when you see how his dick already tents over his black compression underwear, a ring of precum luring you to have a taste at it.
“Look at you, baby. All ready for me.” You bring down the elastic of his underwear, and it springs up to welcome you.
If you can only use one word to describe Leon’s dick, it’s ‘beautiful’. His long and slender cock is adorned by a few purposeful veins that reaches to the seams at the end of his shirt—it’s the dick of a Greek god. And it looks so fucking tasty. Precum beads over his tip almost immediately, tearing up at the sight of you watching him with such intent, tempting you to soothe it. And so you do, lapping at the slit of his tip, licking a bead off, just for another to immediately pool on the slit, over and over again.
“This is wrong.” Leon says, but his gaze is cemented at the bead on your tongue, disappearing when you pull it back into your mouth.
“Then tell me to stop then.” Leon tries to, his hand placing firm on both of your shoulders. But when he pushes you off, his hand goes limp against his better judgement. “See, you can’t.” You resist with all your strength to slow, licking around the crest of the tip. Leon shivers in Carlos’ kiss, moving his hand to under your chin, wanting to see you clearer in the light.
“Ohh.” Your grin grows wider and wider, staring back with all seeing eyes. “I get it now. You have a crush on me.”
He withdraws his hand too swiftly for an innocent man. “You’re wrong.”
“Your face is giving you away. And so is your cute dick.”
Leon is defensive, immediately, and despite how much he wants to tell you otherwise, it may be too late for those words. Leon’s leg turns into rubber as you breathe onto his shaft, and for a fearful second of weakness, he wants to tell you the biggest secret that he had been holding close to his heart all these years. Leon snaps out of the thought. If he wants to ask you out, he’s going to do it properly, not like this.
“Shut up.” He quips back. “Did I tell you to stop? That mouth should be wide open, sucking me off right now.”
Leon felt a little guilty saying that, but that’s the only thing that can probably stop you from continuing this conversation. And it does work. Leon’s unexpected command immediately pools your underwear as you swallow your defiance into the back of your throat, simply murmur and obey: “Yes, sir.”
For you, so far, you had just been teasing him. Playing with your food before devouring it. But now, you want him all. Without much force from your end, your mouth opens to take his fat cock. The length of him doesn’t deter your cheeks to hollow out to suck him in with much enthusiasm. The warmth of his dick contrasts against the cold dead body, and it makes your whole body tremble in ecstasy.
Slowly at first, you move in front of the first half of his pulsating shaft, in spite of your lower pain tolerance, you don’t wish for your jaw to fall out before you finish your first dessert of the day. His dick curves when he enters, prodding against your soft palate as you widen out your throat to take more of his size. You think to yourself: How wonderful it would feel if he was hitting you from the back, but you are unwilling to let go of his tasty length, salted lightly with his taste.
The words that leave Leon’s mouth contradicts himself, mumbling apologies through series of whimpers, as if he was speaking to you, the real you, and not whoever you had become in the crossfire of Arias’ experiment, until an interruption by a gruff voice that sets you back to cruel reality where you are already gone.
“Baby… Let me have some fun too.” Carlos touches your waist, guiding your hips to lift into the air and feet to stand, all whilst your mouth is still occupied with another man’s sex. You can’t see what goes on behind you, only hearing the haste shuffling and the clink of a belt unbuckling and zips forcing open. Its tip meeting at the end of you, preparing.
“God, you’re drippin’ wet.” Realisation sets in that your juice is running down both of your thighs generously, air conditioning blowing on them and making your legs cold. Your underwear has been sticking against your legs since you first saw Leon’s dick, coming in your pants through the eagerness of it all without noticing it.
Carlos guides your underwear off your pathetic self, which you’re grateful for having the sticky fabric leave your body and let your wetness flow freely without obstructions. Carlos runs two fingers along the stripe of your cunt. “So swollen… You like being looked at, don’t you?” You shiver when the pad of his finger rests a little too long on the head of your clit, pressing it like a button that instantly discharges your lovely juices on Carlos’ palm. He lubricates his other finger with it, then dips two fingers inside of you, finding it already loose and ready. Despite the stickiness, Carlos slurps at his dripping finger like melted ice cream, savouring every bit of your taste.
“Just like how I imagined it…” He corrects himself. “No, even better.”
The virus has coursed through your body rapidly, and every second your sexuality is unsatisfied it throbs a sharp pain straight into your gut. You can imagine it must be the same for Carlos too, using up his entire willpower not to thrust into you raw and to relief some of that pain off his body.
As you draw your lips out of Leon’s cock, relaxing against his tip, you ram yourself backwards. Your cunt swallows the entirety of Carlos’ warmness and girth, moaning a deep, lusted sigh. Carlos groans too, low and heavy, taken aback by your forwardness.
“God… Fuckin’ hell…” Carlos adjusts himself; his hands grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing it so tight it fills out his fingers. He fucks you doggy style, with not much reservations from his part either. Your eyes roll back at the impact, mouth ajar with Leon’s cock in your mouth. Jealousy gets the better of Leon, and with a heaved pump, he thrusts himself right into your gaping mouth, hitting against the back of your throat that triggers a gag reflex in you. A blend of your saliva and Leon’s precum rolls down your jaw, making a satisfied response that is incomprehensible from the way Leon fucks your mouth while glaring at his competition.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, pretty boy?” Carlos smiles at Leon in return, accepting the challenge, thrusting you into your cunt faster and harder than ever before, determined to make sure you moan the hardest when he fucks into you.
“Get to work, baby.” Through your blurry haze, it becomes harder to tell who is speaking, even if their voices sound distinctively different. So you obey the voice anyway—satisfying both by slurping Leon’s dick faster, while simultaneously arching your back to help Carlos reach further inside of you. It gets messy, really messy as the obscenity of you gets fucked on both ends permeate through the empty laboratory.
“Baby, you can take a bit more than this, can’t you?” Leon pats your head, and you nod eagerly.
You have already taken his entire length all the way to the base, what more can he mean? But Leon finds a way to make you feel even better by shoving himself even deeper down your throat. Your jaw unhinges to accommodate his force, his balls pressed firm onto your chin. Fear settles for a second before realising there is no pain, and you can take him even deeper with your jaw unhinged like this. You reposition yourself, and his dick prods further at the back of your throat, then down your windpipe, stretching the narrow tube wide open. His tip pokes out of the skin, outlining his tip onto your throat like a forbidden adam’s apple.
“That’s it, good work. You can drink my cum too, right? You kinda have to now.”
Leon had never felt anything like this before. It was phenomenal, downright terrifying how much he enjoys it. Something he thinks isn’t possible—and it shouldn’t have been—but you have outweigh his expectations once again. That doesn’t mean he did not hesitate at first, especially when he sees how the tears run down lightly along your cheek, and your jaw twitching with a burning sensation that weighs at your throat. Your eyes meet his with a desperate gaze, so fucking dirty with how you plead for him to cum with your eyes alone.
So he fucks into your face one last time, and the white sticky goodness comes undone in your throat. Even if it doesn’t hurt, it is uncomfortable for your windpipe to be stuffed with hot, thick cum that chokes you against his limp dick.
Carlos can feel you tightening up fast, more stickiness within as Leon groans out a distressed howl, and your torso shudders heavily again. He knows you had just came with him inside, ripples and ripples of pleasure taking control of your body. He fucks your cunt into your overstimulation as the pleasure continues to hit you in waves from your behind.
“Oohh baby. You look so fuckin’ hot right now, baby.” His hand grasps your cheeks tightly, leaving behind a firm handprint on your luscious booty. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” Behind you, Carlos lets out a growling moan, the soft tendrils falling over Carlos’ face as you clench your insides and threaten to keep you there, letting your walls ride against the sex.
“I got a big load coming. Can you handle it?” You nod again and again. Even if you already came once, it’s not enough. You want more.
Carlos races to the edge of bliss, and he comes so unexpectedly, thinking he still has a bit longer. But nevertheless, Carlos watches his tip release thick white strings into your cunt, then plugs it back far inside of you as your second release crashes on top of your first.
“The perfect fucking cumdump.” are Carlos’ final words as he draws himself out, plopping his weight against your back in exhaustion.
With your body stuffed full, you lie in the pool of your own pleasure, liquids flowing into each other. Carlos huffs his chest, burying his chest into your back, losing sight of Leon in their post orgasms. Your neck exposes upwards to the sky, pulsing to Leon’s attention. The three of you remain there for a while, every breath a struggle to catch up with the intensity of the aftermath.
Then, Leon drops his head—his eyes catch sight of the tactical gear he is wearing. His combat knife reflects the fluorescent lights in its sheath at his breast, then Leon looks back at the two of you, paying himself no mind. It’s an opening. If he hits you on the crook of your neck at the top of your spine, it may not be fatal, but it will allow a moment of paralysis, just enough for him to break free and flee to safety.
Leon slows his hand as he reaches for the knife, not to startle either you or Carlos. You are oblivious, choking up his cum and coughing it onto the floor. His fingers reach the hilt now, curling along it as draws the knife out of the sheath slowly. And with a deep breath, Leon plunges the knife down, aiming straight into the back of your neck. It never made it that far. The blade is caught by a rough hand.
“What’re you doing?” Carlos questions as his eyes land on Leon, perhaps giving him the benefit of the doubt. But it’s no mistake what Leon’s intentions are with how the knife is maimed towards your head. “You know, I can see your reflection on the floor, right?” Carlos’ expression turns dark, crooking into a displeased frown that warns Leon, once again, that his attempts are fruitless. The sharp end runs through his fingers, and he lets the blood drip down his palm. “Such a bad boy.”
Carlos yanks the weapon away from Leon, spinning the hilt in the air, and catches it securely between his bloodied palm. He rounds one arm around Leon’s chest, and the other hand lining the blade parallel against Leon’s neck. “If you want to live, do as I say.”
Leon knows better than to struggle against a man holding a weapon to his neck. He does as Carlos says, backing himself into the isolated room under Carlos’ guidance, pushing the door with the broken hinge aside as they enter. Carlos kicks the dead body away from the bed, and it lolls limply to the other side of the room.
“Lie on the bed.” Carlos demands and Leon obeys, climbing on top of the medical bed. The texture of the mattress resembles weak foam when Leon drops his weight on top.
Leon’s wrists are forced to jerk backwards before the top of his head. He winces at the touch of cold metal circles around his left wrist, and it clicks. The chain goes around the metal headframe, and Carlos repeats the same on Leon’s right wrist, securing tight with finality. Leon watches you and Carlos tower over him, the fury of two disappointed parents overseeing him. Leon struggles his arm free, but he recoils when the chains tug him back.
Is this the end for Leon…?
Clothes start to come off; Carlos strips off every remaining fabric and gear on him, and you follow too. Leon’s clothing—cuffed against the bed had to be ripped off his body, allowing witness to the most intimate parts of their bodies. Carlos makes the first move—not giving Leon a moment to breathe when he jumps on top of Leon’s figure, locking his splayed body down. He struggles underneath, wiggling and kicking Carlos off in desperation, but he’s too strong.
“Don't resist, Leon. It’ll hurt more if you do.” There’s a void of emotion in Carlos’ words, and the speed of a cheetah as he plunges his sharp teeth into Leon’s reddened neck, marked with your loving insanity. As he leans down, Leon can see the veins around his eyes bulging and pounding like a heartbeat. Fear takes over Leon; he desperately wrestles Carlos off him as a last ray of hope. But all of it turns futile when Carlos manages to bite into a bit of that skin—and a bit of that skin is all the venom needs to take over the host, contaminating his blood, his cells, with the dreaded disease.
“Fuck!” Leon yells from the bottom of his lungs, and the part where his teeth lands burns, even if it doesn’t bleed furiously. The entirety of his left arm is turning numb, and that feeling spreads across his body, trying to reach his heart and mind, and clouds away his sight. It reaches further into Leon’s system, and he coughs out blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Hang in there, pretty boy. It’ll feel good very soon.” Leon hurls a loud scream at Carlos. “Here, I’ll help you take the pain away.”
Carlos strokes himself, still lubricated from your juices, and so is Leon. That makes things easier for Carlos to let the crest of his dick meets at Leon’s base, running it up the length of the slender shaft. Leon flinches, holding back a displeased yet relishing whimper that surprises Carlos, and he wants to hear more of that cute sound.
“Such a pretty boy with a pretty dick, Leon.” Carlos whispers into his ear, their tips circle each other a few more times, and it does help Leon subside the pain, but the lack of friction isn’t enough, almost unbearable as the virus attacks his body.
Leon’s dick twitches in agony, and he whimpers once more. Carlos whistles with delight. “You want more, pretty boy?”
“Only if you stop talking so much shit, Oliveira.” Leon uses whatever movement that isn’t restrained by the cuffs to urge himself closer to the fat, girthy cock. Carlos’ dick taunts him into submission, and Leon does not like Carlos having so much power over him.
“That works with me.” Carlos raises his eyebrows, licking his bottom lip with a lust-laden expression. He brings both cocks together, rubbing them parallel against each other’s shafts and jerks it up and down. Carlos can feel his dick grinds along Leon’s vein, and their precums start to overflow all over, making the duo moan in unison.
Seeing them dripping onto each other makes you feel left out. You have been fingering yourself against the wall this entire time, but your wrists turn sore, and the stimulation isn’t enough anymore. You need more. Carlos sees you through the corner of his peripheral, and he gestures you to join them, squishing around to make room for you in the middle.
You heave on top of the bed, with Leon feeling most of the weight at the bottom. The metal hinges scratch hard against the frame with its abrupt impact, probably exceeding the weight limit. But that’s not on the list of your priorities right now. If the bed falls apart from fucking too hard, then so be it.
You grind along both of their lengths, having them fuck you between your folds. The three of you continue to move against each other, rubbing, grinding with fervour to relish in the friction on each of your sensitive parts. Every time one of the tips brush your clit, your cunt drips wet and coats their dick with your juice.
After their dicks have been lubricated, the boys lean back so their dick points the sky to receive you inside of them. Taking turns, you lower yourself onto Leon and Carlos’ lengths one at a time, instantly adapting around each of their length and girth with a harsh whine, bouncing from one dick to the other.
But Leon doesn’t want to share you at all. When you plunge down onto him, he uses this opportunity to thrust into you from below over and over until you suck him in desperately, each thrust relieving a bit of pain from his and your gut. You let him—unwilling to withdraw yourself from easy pleasure.
Carlos’ tip rubs against the gap between Leon’s dick and your cunt. “Hey, make some room for me.”
“Why’re you squeezing in here? Use the other hole.” Leon takes up more space inside of your cunt out of spite.
“And let you have all the fun, pretty boy? I don’t think so.”
“C’mon. Help us out.” Carlos presses a warm pad of finger onto the skin of your belly, and that urges you to reposition yourself. You adjust so Leon lays closer to your clit, leaving Carlos enough room to enter from the other end. “That’s it, baby. You really want us to fuck you in the same hole, huh? That’s how cock hungry you are?”
“I… Fuck… Yes, please...” Whatever dignity remains in you is gone now, excited by the idea of having your guts penetrated by two fat dicks; carnal needs turns into blind desperation.
“As you wish, baby.” Carlos moans, lining his dick in your pussy right above Leon’s, and the crest of Carlos’ tip crawls into your cunt with much strain and patience.
“It's not going to fit, Oliveira. You’re too fuckin’ big. Get off.” Leon grumbles.
Carlos glares at Leon to stop whining, then soothes your back with a gentle press to encourage you more. “You can do this, baby. You'll make it fit, won't you?” Another inch of Carlos slides inside of you, and you howl in slow agonised enjoyment. Both of them together is too much, even for you. The pleasure swoons into you, flushing your skin a colder red as your pussy throbs open some more.
Half of Carlos’ fat cock slides inside of you now, almost making it all the way. A wave of overwhelming anguish surges to your stretched out entrance, and the ghastly sound behind your throat wants to cry out loud. Instead, you chew on your tongue, hard, bursting the taste of your blood onto your palate.
That is when Leon drops his voice to a whisper for your ears only: “Hey, don’t hurt yourself. Bite onto my hand if you need.”
Even after everything that has happened, Leon only ever offers you his kindness. You appreciate the sentiment, a bit touched. Under his sweet encouragement and almost chewing off half of Leon’s arm, you gape your hole wider. Carlos’ arm tenses as he fucks his entire cock in with one final push, filling every crevice of your cunt with their shapes bent against your walls.
“Puta merda… It’s so tight in here.” Carlos breath chokes in the back of his throat, but he’s smiling.
“No shit, Oliveira. Your fault for forcing yourself in.” Leon kicks Carlos in the thigh with his free foot that’s not buried under the pressure.
Carlos moves first, stretching you out, and Leon groans at the back and forth friction against Carlos’ pulsating dick. Your breath is ragged, feeling both dicks cramped inside the tiny hole, until Carlos utters: “Gonna fuck both our babies into you.”
Your breath quickens in unruly speed as they start to move, taking turns thrusting inside at varying speeds and aptitude, not allowing your pussy even a moment of rest. Leon pulls back when Carlos forcefully thrusts in, then it reverses with Leon’s length curving up ever so perfectly to read your g-spot, fucking against your sensitive womb so deeply as the tip indents at the skin of your belly with every heaved thrust. Sometimes they thrust in at the same time, but most times, they like to make it distinct which dick is fucking you.
It's this competition they have going, to see who can make you moan the loudest. And right now, there is no clear winner. The cockiness in Leon and Carlos dies out as the pleasure renders them unable to speak, communicating their pleasure solely through a chorus of pleasured outcries, and you are the main vocalist.
The tip of their dicks throb inside of you; Leon and Carlos sensing that they are both close. Tossing each other a raised eyebrow, they scheme something with their eyes alone. They nod in sync—one slow nod, two slow nods, and on third—Leon and Carlos explodes their pent up nut inside of you, stuffing you with what feels like almost endless shoots of cum until it rims your cunt with white, overfilling, and eventually bursting out from within you like a water fountain from the other end, gushing your hole so full your belly grows almost double size.
As Leon releases himself into you, his vision suddenly turns hazy as nausea washes over him from the sheer ecstasy of it all. Until eventually, his sight falls into darkness.
Tumblr media
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Leon wakes to the voice of someone mumbling the four-word ritual over and over. His bareness is sticky, sweating into the mattress of the bed. Moving his hands, he remembers they are still cuffed against the bed frame. Leon looks above him to find the cuff rusty on the chains, and he may be able to break them if he uses a bit of force. Leon tugs at the chain over and over till his delicate wrists are scratched and bleeding. He brings down the chain harshly one more time, and it finally breaks apart.
Leon rises from the bed, examining the scene. You and Carlos are not with him in the room—where have they gone? That same tune rings inside his head once more, singing in shrieking calmness.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. His life seconds numbering, Tick, tock, tick. It stopped short, never to go again.
Leon falls to the floor. The throbbing pain against his forehead upsets him further, and Leon recalls the events of what happened, and remembers—that he’s no longer human. But for whatever reason, he can still think for himself. Through the corner of his eye, he catches something stuck between the metal post of the bed.
Leon’s guts urge him to reach for it. And he does, retrieving a small cylinder from the dusty metal, and opens his palm to find a syringe. It labels ‘S’ in faded text. He remembers seeing something similar in the case, and there was a missing syringe inside. Could this be what he was looking for?
There’s not much time left, as the voices in his head grow louder and louder, deafening his thoughts out and pushing his conscience further behind his mind. Without hesitation, Leon removes the cap and injects it in himself.
The sharp end pierces into Leon’s skin, a harsh sting floods into his body, then the pain and the song fades away like a distant memory. All the pain hits him at once—his injured neck, half-eaten palm,  the soreness of his wrists tied up against the frame for what seems like forever, even the tip of his dick is burning from the energetic activities from today.
Regardless, there is no time for self pity. Leon rummages through his gear for his employee card, and rushes back to the main laboratory in front of the computer. He plops himself on the swivel office chair as the taps the ID on the scanner, and it beeps green, logging in successfully.
There are almost every document Leon needs here. Information about Prototype A and Prototype S, its composition and construction, research material, all of it. Prototype S? Leon hasn’t heard this before, not even in the confidential documents Rebecca provided at the start of the mission.
“Rebecca, come in.” Leon calls into his earpiece, but he is met with fuzz and cracked static. The signal is jammed. But it doesn’t matter—most importantly, Leon needs to send all this data back to Rebecca ASAP.
Leon removes his watch to place it on the RFID scanner, moving all the files into his watch that will synchronise the documents to Rebecca’s laboratory. Leon watches the upload percentage, fifty percent… sixty… seventy percent. When the bar hits seventy-five, the monitor fades to black.
What? Leon clicks at the screen a few times but it’s unresponsive. He spins backwards from his chair, clicking on the solitary red button to boot the system. There is no light. The power cord had been pulled out from behind. And the other end of the wire meets you with a familiar face Leon had seen many times from the wanted posters.
“Agent Kennedy.” Glenn Arias. Leon isn’t expecting Arias to be so calm, so weighed down by age.
Arias holds up an emblem hanging by a long gold chain, pendulating it in front of him. There’s a singular clock hand on it, ticking down the seconds. What on earth is that symbol? Leon doesn’t realise this then, but it shares the same sigil as the antique clockface.
Whatever Arias is trying to do with this technique—it does not work for Leon as he lunges forward. Arias resorts into drawing his pistol, unloading his rounds at Leon’s head. Leon ducks in response, spinning the office chair, and the bullets fire into the backrest, missing Leon completely. Arias swaps out his magazine, and this gives Leon just enough opening to swing a side kick with the momentum, his heel forcing the pistol off Arias’ hand.
The weapon goes flying, landing on the bleached tiles with a harsh clang. It’s victory for Leon. He can arrest Arias here and now, and end the misery for the millions who have suffered through his schemes. That is, until, a quickened whisk of air follows Leon from behind, its strong force grasping him on his neck through a familiar domineering grip.
“Son of a bitch.” Leon winces, struggling to keep his eyes open as he watches Carlos clench his suffocating hands around Leon’s neck. You surface right behind him, waiting for your orders as you watch indifferently at Leon’s suffering. The orbs in your eyes are pitch black now with a reddening centre, stripping away whatever natural colour and glaze that used to look so pretty.
“Good job, the two of you.” Arias dangles the chain again; you and Carlos dart your gaze onto the strange symbol, mouthing the familiar words in silence: Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
Arias raises a graceful finger and brings it down. Carlos strikes Leon towards the floor. A bone or two breaks somewhere within him. His throat stings and burns. Leon tries to sit up, but the pain is too overwhelming for him to stand. Arias presses his black aniline leather shoes against the back of Leon’s neck, holding him there, crushing that pretty little neck of his if Leon even dares to move.
“Seems like you really enjoyed yourself, Agent Kennedy. Might have to charge you for this one.” Arias’ expression tries to be placid, but still, it cannot hide the amusement in his face.
Through strangled breath, Leon utters. “How do you know my name?”
“You work for the government, don’t you?” Arias’ face twists into disgust, like he just ate a whole lemon. “Leon S. Kennedy.” He lets the name roll off his tongue. There is a heavy pause as Arias seems to be recalling something. “I hate guys like you who think they’re always right.”
“And the guy who makes bioweapons is better?” Leon scoffs in disbelief, almost uncontrollably, and it causes the burn in his throat to flare up. “T-Talk about hypocritical.”
“I never claim to be better. Only smarter.” He toys with the emblem skilfully between two fingers, and stops the spin halfway. 
“You should have been executed.” Leon growls.
“And somehow fate is on my side. Yet again.” Arias retrieves Leon’s watch from the scanner, and pockets it along with his gold chain. Arias turns the other way, walking towards the exit, visibly bored. He was hoping to have a bit more fun with Leon. But now, the game is over before it even began.
“T-Th-They’re coming f-for you.” Leon’s cracked voice grates against the background. Arias immediately stops in his tracks, turning his neck to Leon without moving the rest of his body.
“Who’s coming?” Aria’s voice is quiet yet demanding.
Leon tries to speak, but the words escape him through a weakened, quiet voice, barely audible. Arias stomps back to him, planting his leg back onto Leon, cleaning the dirt on his sole onto his bare neck. “Talk. Now.”
Leon grins, biting back blood inside of his mouth. He doesn’t say anything.
“TELL ME.” Arias’ eyes burn a deeper red, a rage blazing through the torch in his eyes and seethes out of his ears. You and Carlos gets into position, fully intending to do whatever it takes to make Leon talk. Arias waves them away. “You better fucking tell me right now.”
Leon responds with a tight-lipped smile, still strained from his injuries.
Arias resists himself from punching the smugness out of Leon, stroking at his wedding ring instead. It calms him immediately to feel the familiar mineral around his finger, knowing that it means more to him to sully the vows of his love with the blood of someone as pathetic as Leon. Arias closes his eyes to recollect himself in a deep breath. When he opens them, a smile hangs on his face like nothing happened.
“Doesn’t matter. You have already lost.”              
“You should be. He’s a tough fella. Killed so many villains like you.” Leon spits on Arias’ shiny shoes, testing Arias’ composure to the limits. “And he’ll take you down, and that stupid empire of yours.”
Arias’ fists clenches fully in an instant, so hard it bleeds right through his palms. Brows furrowing so hard it comically pops out his veins. He finally cracks, feet pressing down so hard that Leon groans and chokes. But even so close to his death, Leon looks arrogant in Arias’ perspective.
Letting this man die so easily? Not a chance.
And with newfound determination to prolong his agony, Arias dangles the chain in front of you and Carlos, murmuring a final discontented order:
“Take him to the cage.”
Tumblr media
thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. PORTUGUESE TRANSLATION: (thank you @navstuffs ilysm) Puta merda = Fucking shit Porra = Fuck Que pescoço bonito = Such a beautiful neck kissing @scar-crossedlvrs for the beta read, my carlos specialist @navstuffs, for helping me with the portuguese! and @j3llyd0nut for keeping me sane and not distracted by jjk thirsts through discord calls!! please check them out i love them so so much!!!! taglist (open): @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired @redvleanli @vinsiliors @whoisgami @gaylorvader @wxwieeee @eddsthemunson © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
694 notes · View notes
wxnheart · 7 months
Text
"I don't want it just tonight, I want forever..."
He's missed this. He's missed you, baby.
Missed the feeling of your bare skin against his. Missed the sounds of heaven in his ears. Missed the way your tight heat envelopes him and welcomes him home.
Oh god, you feel so fucking good.
This moment... he wants it to last forever. He wants every fiber of your being to remember it. Wants you to remember the intensity of the way he fucks you, wants you to remember the way he has you begging for more. He wants you to remember the way he presses your foreheads together and makes you look him in the eyes, makes you see how fucking crazy he is for you, how much he wants you like you want him.
Wants you to see and feel how much he'd always want you.
And fuck, you're so beautiful when you come... but he's not gonna stop. He's not gonna stop fucking you.
He's not gonna stop loving you.
He'll do everything in his power to make you remember this moment.
He'll do everything in his power to make it last forever.
2K notes · View notes
meowsiee · 11 months
Note
Could you do Carlos teasing fem!reader about her shorter height and her getting kissy and bratty and him fucking the attitude out of her 🤭🤭
ATTITUDE - carlos oliveira smut
Tumblr media
୨୧・꒰pairing꒱︙carlos oliveira x afab! reader
୨୧・꒰warnings꒱︙dubcon - doggy - creampie - spanking
୨୧・꒰author note꒱︙first ever carlos smut thanks to this request! i hope this is what you expected girly <3 if you see any mistakes i’m so sorry(i didn’t proof read). enjoy love ^_^
Tumblr media
“yeah okay.. whatever you say… midget”
carlos always teased you about your height, constantly rub your hair and ask you the overused ‘how’s the weather down there?’ question. you personally didn’t think you were that short, but everyone in your life tell you otherwise.
especially carlos oliveria.
“dude i’m going to kick your ass, gonna bite your knees since i’m supposedly so short” you told him in a annoyed manner. right now you were putting away some groceries after coming back from the store where you so happen to come across your friend of almost 2 years, carlos.
he decided to come over and help you unload your groceries along with organize your new plates and cups by placing them on the cabinet since you were unable to reach that high up.
carlos chuckled at you as he closed the cabinet, finally done organizing. “you remind me of a chihuahua… cute and small, yet so feisty”
you stopped what you were doing and darted your eyes to him. he was now putting his weight on your kitchen counter, with a big smirk on his face.
“you remind me to a giraffe, all big and tall. and not that cute”
carlos pretended to get shot in the heart and grabbed onto his chest wincing “not that cute?! argh that hurts. worse than bullet wound”
rolling your eyes and walking away from the kitchen, you spoke to carlos giving him one last command “can you finish putting the rest up for me? and then maybe i’ll apologize”
he smiled as he saw you walk into your room, then chuckled softly as he did what you ask. carlos finished putting away all your groceries but came across a few items he didn’t know where you personally would put them.
carlos walked over to your room and didn’t bother to knock, he went in like it was nothing “hey yo.. where do y-“
“HEY!”
he walked in to you basically almost naked, you were in nothing but your favorite pair of panties. “get the fuck out!!” you shouted at him as you quickly
︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨ ♡ ୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶
“gonna fuck that attitude outta you…” carlos whispered under his breath as he pinned your face down to the bed. pulling down your panties with force not giving you time to protest.
you weren’t sure how the hell you got in this position, one minute you were cussing him out and telling him that he was a pervert, how he was a straight up weirdo. the next he has you pinned down about to use your body.
“carlos what the fuck!” you said muffled as your face was squished against the mattress. he ignored you, all you heard was him mumbling stuff as he unbuckled his pants.
you felt his dick press against your ass, your eyes widen. he slapped it on you and groaned. “i bet you are going to feel amazing” and with that, he slid in only the tip.
you softly moaned, biting your lip. it’s so wrong, he is going to fucking you without permission but it’s so sexy to you. your bestfriend putting his cock inside your pussy, just makes you so much aroused.
“mmh.. fuck.. that’s right baby, take it like a good girl” he moaned out as he put himself all the way in. his hands grabbing onto your ass with a soft grip.
“mmh~” moans left your mouth, your were tiptoeing so carlos could easily thrust you. he was so right , you were short compared to him…
his cock in and out of you slowly “you’re so small.. so easy to take advantage of you know that right?” carlos whispered as he leaned over close to your ear. “should have done this long ago…” after that sentence he thrusted into you harshly, making you yelp.
“s-so big…ahh” you whimpered, not used to his size yet. carlos was definitely bigger than you, everywhere. your pussy was pulsing around his cock, showing him how much it needed him.
he did another harsh thrust into you, making you wince in pain. “haven’t had big dick in this tight little pussy of yours huh?” a smirk formed in his face, playing with your hair. “i’m going to make this needy pussy get used to me baby.. don’t worry. it won’t hurt after a while…”
squinting your eyes you nodded, trusting him that he will make the slight pain ease out.
no… instead without a warning he started moving inside you faster and harder. making you bite you moan and whine at the same time, the pain mixing with the pleasure.
“c-carlos! t-to hard… ahh!” you whined out to him as he kept pounding in and out of you, stretching your sloppy cunt out.
“so angry at me w-when i was just trying to help you.. agh.. and instead you’re being a damn brat” he was panting , keeping his harsh pace.
gripping onto the bedsheets as you felt your legs starting to go numb. you kept moaning like crazy, carlos fucking you dumbly. using your body as if it was made just to please him and nothing else.
“so-sorry.. ahh.. fuck- sorry!” you cried out.
“don’t give a damn…” his hand slapped right across your ass “fucking take it, take it baby”
pure squelching noises and moans filled your bedroom, you never felt so useless before but at the same time never felt so much satisfied. the idea being fucked without him giving a shit if you are okay or not made you even wetter.
you felt yourself arch your back a little so he could go even deeper than he already is, making him let out a chuckle “want more of daddy’s dick mm?”
carlos grabbed onto your ass with both hands and moving your body onto him slowly. his pumps still very harsh “mmhh… so hot” he mumbled.
“f-faster…please..” you whimpered to him softly, fuck you wanted to cum all over his dick so badly. it would be even better if he came inside you at the same time. your mind was being flooded with perverted thoughts of him.
he slapped your ass one more time before he started fucking hard again, throwing his head back and moaning out your name in pure pleasure. his dick throbbing so much inside you, feeling your walls wrap around him tightly. “augh baby.. your so damn tight i swear…”
feeling that knot form into your lower stomach , you moaned out loudly. informing carlos you were right there, ready to finish all over him. “fuck fuck fuck~” you chanted out. you could tell he was ready to cum inside you any second by the way his cock kept twitching.
“gonna .. ah~ fuck.. gonna cum… aghh!” carlos shot his ropes of warm cum deep inside you, groaning as each shot filled you up. the same time you came all over his dick, coating it with your juices.
he stayed inside you for a while, trying to collect himself after putting so much effort. sighing, he finally pulled out and could slightly see the mixture of you and him coming out. he laughed at the sight.
“never thought i’ll have you this way” carlos teased you as he pulled up his pants. you turned over to him, feeling this cum start slowly run down your thigh.
“shut up oh my-“
“don’t make me do it again to you princess”
he cut you off, warning you. you stayed silent for a minute, giving him a blank stare before smiling cutely at him.
“maybe that isn’t such a bad thing”
1K notes · View notes
mo0nfairy · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART FOUR !
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 19.5k (oops)
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, smut, gender neutral reader, dom!jill, sub!carlos, switch!reader, nudity, noncon, penetrative s3x, unprotected s3x, oral s3x, masturb4tion, f1ngering, overst1mulation, edging, spitting, physical restraint, love triangle, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, mild force-feeding, violence, death, manipulation, drugging, blood/gore, weapons, unhealthy religious themes, & just lots of creepy shit.
Tumblr media
──── Five months; 153 days. That is how long Jill and Carlos have spent in the clouds of heaven with their one and only, Y/N L/N. So much has changed in such little time. Drastically, but all too invigorating in the same breath.
The two people who have claimed to be your lovers tell you tales of what horrors are rooted in the place you once called home. How they lathered your brain in their lies and how they thread through your veins with manipulation — five months have passed and you still cannot believe it to be true. They provided you shelter, comfort, and love; they lent you a rope to climb when you were left for dead at rock bottom.
Even with the clutter of Jill's studies she shows to you as proof, the way she clenches her jaw when you speak of them makes you regret ever mentioning the subject. Even with the scars Carlos shows you from when he had worked for the corporation, the vein that bulges above his brow when you speak of them makes you recoil with apprehension.
Your days and nights have been spent pondering what lies outside of these walls. This sudden contrast in your life doesn't fog your judgment entirely, though. With every day the rain falls, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Jill Valentine loves the taste of Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of her obsession are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
When dawn arises and the birds begin to fill the air with their melodies, Jill awakes and you are the first thing she sees. And the precious imagery alone causes all higher brain function to abandon her. Being here with you, the only reason she continues to live on is breathtaking. To wake up and find the star of her dreams beside her while the presence of her nightmares fade away — there is no high quite like it.
With a lanky arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other treads across your flesh. The stripe of your jaw, the expanse of your eyelid, the apple of your cheek. To touch you, never has Jill been so happy. A hum of laughter vibrates in her chest when she takes notice of the string of drool leaking from your mouth. Too damn cute. She restrains herself from cooing and instead, focuses on the way her sweatpants grow tighter when her mind wanders.
Jill drags her calloused fingers among the wet surface of your parted lips and collects the excess saliva, all without a hint of guilt or hesitance. Fervently, like some sort of starved beast, she shoves the digits into her mouth and ensnares her wriggling tongue around them. The constriction is almost suffocating; the flare of heat inside her is almost overwhelming.
Jill could stay here forever, relishing in the absolute euphoria only you are capable of bringing her. However, the day calls out for the two of you (as well as a man who is just as needy as she is for your attention).
With leisure efforts, she pulls the expensive comforters off of your warm body. She gently nudges your arm and purrs out your name. Five months later, there is still nothing that has her heart melting quite like the groggy, all-too-adorable look of lethargy on your expression. The way you rub the sleepiness out of your eyes and groan for "five more minutes," it takes Jill all the strength within her to not lock the door and spend the day drowning you in her love. Sometimes, she waves a white flag to her desires and does such, despite the grizzly bear banging on the door and demanding she let him see you.
Rainfall hastens as light envelops the land. You and Jill arrive at the kitchen where you find Carlos at the stove, laboriously working on something mouthwatering.
Upon your entrance, Carlos beams and risks the fate of burning the food in favor of greeting you. An embrace, one that rivals two lovers who haven't seen each other in decades, is what you're met with. A kiss on your forehead and an affectionate tap to your chin follow, as well as a promise that "breakfast will be ready soon, honey-bee."
Jill averts her gaze from the lovesick man. The sight may convince her to snatch an impromptu weapon from the knife block and slice his throat. Despite the elation of having you at her side, the possessive roots within her will always reside, unfortunately.
Two plates are soon set before you and Jill. For a number of times you cannot possibly fathom, Carlos sits beside you. Shoulders pressed to yours, he wastes no time in scooping a mouthful of delectable food and pressing it to your mouth. You thank him, as you always do, and he gushes about how much of a sweet thing you are. Meanwhile, Jill remains silent and scarfs down the meal with no regard to the effort he put into crafting it (there is much less effort in her dish than there is in yours, but not that she acknowledges).
Carlos refused to cook for her before, claiming that she can "get her own damn food." Though, your kind heart offered some of your breakfast to her and Jill resorted to feeding you with that irritatingly-smug look on her face. From here on out, he'd always leave an extra plate out for her. Carlos would prepare Jill an entire buffet if it meant he'd still possess his role of being your personal fork-holder. Nobody else.
After a night spent in cold sheets, Carlos proceeds to hog you as a child would with their favorite toy. The sleeping schedule you three have fluctuates every other night, to where you'll spend the evening with one of them and the next with the other. The two bedrooms within the home are assigned to Jill and Carlos, where they get to spend the precious time indulging in the joy of finally being alone with you. Evenings with Jill often fuel the gnawing need this man has to have you close. The similar way it does the other way around, as well.
With the rainfall now intensely heavy and engulfing the green atmosphere, you had deemed yourself fully satiated with love. Managing to slip out of the house for some fresh air after Carlos had so greedily taken yours, you stumble into the garage. From there, you find Jill, whose clothes and skin are adorned with stains of grease.
Wrench in hand, she works tirelessly on her motorcycle. She makes some flirtatious introduction that makes your face hot, as she was always skilled in getting under your skin with her provocative attitude. And for the next several hours (and an inconspicuous task given to Carlos so you'll receive a few seconds of time away from him), you aid Jill in her efforts to patch up her bike. Apparently, an animal had squeezed through some cranny and claimed Jill's baby (besides you, of course) as its dinner. With how deliberately it seemed that the vehicle was unable to function, you wonder what actually occurred during the night.
Never once in your life could you have ever considered fixing a motorcycle to be quite a fun process. And never could you have considered being covered in motor oil to be something so intimate, the inside jokes and coquettish comments from Jill adding to the romance, too.
Absorbed in patching up the complex structure of the fuel system, you don't realize how the hem of your sweater falls from your shoulder. Jill notices, however — oh, how she notices. If you hadn't been so engrossed in the activity your hands were occupied with, you'd see how her eyes latch to your naked skin and the way her mouth waters at the sight.
"Done!" Reaching your hand over, your sleeve treads lower when you set the pliers down upon the rusted tray beside you, exposing even more of your skin. You subconsciously pull the garment to shield your shoulder from the gusts of wind permeating the room (or the hungry eyes that crave to see everything torn from your body).
With a lack of knowledge about motorcycles in general, considering you have never been on one in your life, you make a quirky remark about "testing the new ride!" and sit down on the leather-threaded seat. Though, you sit entirely backward on the vehicle without a spark of false nature in your expression. Do you really think that's how you're supposed to ride a motorcycle? God, just when Jill thought you couldn't get even more adorable, you draw a new line in the sand.
“You tryna' turn me on?" Her voice drops to a low husk, a tone she has never presented but has always been reserved for you, anyway.
"What?" You furrow your brows and quirk your head like a puppy dog. And the sight does not aid the mayhem within the pit of her stomach.
She stands from the rolling stool and slowly treads to the back of the motorcycle, now standing right in front of you. The way you look up at her makes her absolutely exasperated with desire.
"'Too damn good at getting my attention. 'Got me all wrapped around that lil' finger of yours, huh?”
"I... I don't know what you're talking about...?"
"Really now? Sittin' reverse cowgirl and you expect me to not want to tear you apart?"
You flush in response to her insinuations, babbling jumbled nonsense in an attempt to explain your honest mistake. Jill leans closer to you, mere inches of space between you now. Resting her hand against the seat to support her weight, the other toys with the hem of that damned shirt in the way of what she wants most. She can practically feel the warmth radiating off your cheeks, and God, does it make her feral.
The expanse between you two hastens with less and less room, to where you lean backward in response. It isn't until you are entirely draped among the bike does she finally halt and hovers over you, practically bathing in how you blush from the intimacy.
"... Jill...?" You exhale breathlessly, your flustered state adding fuel to the fiery state of her inflated ego.
Despite the fantasies she's had of this moment, the scene she constructed won't be brought to light today. All the teasing, toying, and images where she'd force you to beg for her touch — she has dirtied her brain in the most pleasurable way possible. But, she's far too greedy; way too impatient. There is no possible reality in which she could restrain herself at this moment unless she was somehow physically tied down. Still, she'd find a way to wrangle herself out of any barrier if it meant you'd be lying beneath her like this. So inviting, gorgeous, and ready for her.
The kiss she pulls you into is suffocating.
The fervent, honeyed look trapped in your eyes, how could you expect her to resist? To control herself? Jill indulges herself in the taste of you and places a gentle hand against your waist. Despite being stuck in a cloud of dizzying enrapturement, she is still wary of pushing your boundaries.
Always so eager, however, mere seconds have gone by before Jill converts the intimate kiss to practically shoving her tongue down your throat. She lathes the appendage over the grooves of your teeth, the plush surface of your delectable tongue, and just everywhere she can possibly reach. Almost as if she were a dog, she's lapping every bit of you she can garner from your mouth.
You're dazed with lust, as well. Every little whimper for more is muffled against her greedy mouth but still succeeds in pushing Jill further into a sort of monster-like ravaging. What finally drives her over the edge of becoming an absolute beast is when you grasp hold of her free hand and guide it under your shirt, gasping when her frigid fingers make contact with your nipple.
She doesn't acknowledge how your desire looks like a mere breadcrumb in comparison to her own colossal need for you. Jill is too caught up in reveling in your reciprocation and her own burning hunger to pay the thought any mind.
For the first time in what feels like an eternity, she parts from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to one another.
You're not given a moment to catch your breath, not when a sudden gasp escapes your mouth as Jill begins to tear your clothes from your form. You're gasping her name, using your limbs to shield your naked skin while she continues to rapidly undress you. Every single part of you is now on display for Jill to watch and indulge in. Before you can express your shock at the fucking animal she has abruptly become, she locks a hand around your jaw and forces your gaze on her.
"Open." The authority in her tone doesn't grant you a second to even consider disobeying her. Without words, it is clear as day that Jill Valentine is the one in control.
Letting your tongue loll out of your mouth, you await her next actions with anticipation. She spits a glob of saliva onto the muscle and her supercilious laughter fans against your face. How precious it is the way your eyes perceptibly glisten from her actions. A sharp demand of "swallow" and you obey once more, never ridding her of the intense eye contact she has trapped you in.
Her index and middle finger prod at the flesh of your lips, where you eagerly invite them into your mouth. She sighs out a curse at the feeling of your tongue wrapping itself around her fingers and how you slurp the digits like a goddamn popsicle.
"Dirty fuckin' thing, aren't you?" Jill's fingers delve deeper, losing herself in the way you gag around her and whine out a muffled "mm-hmm!" as a reply.
Pulling her fingers from your mouth with an animated pop!, Jill's eyes never leave the ocean of passion in your eyes as she treads her hand lower.
With teasing efforts that her greedy self doesn't indulge in for too long, her fingers soon nudge against your sex. The contact causes a gasp to flee from your mouth. Circling around your entrance, you're only able to squeeze in several pleas for more before she's forcefully shoving her fingers inside of you.
While you throw your head back with a sharp moan, Jill's jaw drops as she realizes how she is finally able to feel every sliver of you. Inside and out. The spongy expanse of your walls; the silk of your essence mixing with the saliva you left upon her fingers. The garage is painted in the lewd sounds of your whimpers and the squelching induced by her fingers. Everything is perfect.
“Jesus Christ, baby... I could fuck you like this for days.” Her voice causes you to squeeze around her as if you were trying to physically cling to the mind-numbing sensations she's giving you.
Within seconds, Jill finds your sweet spot and begins to torture the love-button. Her calloused digits penetrate deep against it and the stimulation shifts your moans up an octave. With a "yeah? feelin' good?", you can only nod and succumb to the sounds that fall from your mouth.
With how paradisiacal the vehemence her fingers bring, you aren't able to ponder over how this woman is able to magically know your every weak spot, every sensitive bud, and the exact rhythms you prefer without ever informing her. Almost as if she's seen you do the same to yourself.
Soon, however, the heat becomes too much for you to handle and you begin to squirm in her grasp. Even when you whine pathetically about how it's too much, Jill doesn't falter her efforts in the slightest.
"Can't stop, baby... 'Clenching 'round me too tight, got me stuck in here." Her condescending tone and sultry smirk make you cry out in heavenly misery. God, it's only two lanky fingers and you feel more stuffed than a Thanksgiving turkey.
Her digits soon accelerate in speed, your body jolting from the force and legs beginning to quiver. A fire pervades in your core with how forcefully she massages your sweet spot and you let out pornographic "ah!"'s with every thrust she forces into you. The smirk on her face vanishes when you bring your forearm to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the unruly noises tumbling out. She swats your arms away, never ceasing her endeavors to bring you the most Earth-shattering pleasure you could ever know.
"Car-Carlos... He'll hear..." You manage to squeak out. And the sudden shift in her expression makes a surge of fear course through you.
"Carlos? 'Fuck you thinking bout' him for?"
Roughly, Jill pulls one leg of yours to your chest and is able to drive her fingers in deeper. You didn't even think it was possible, hence the shock and sucker-punched look on your face. She sharply reminds you of how it is only you and her together. Not in an attempt to comfort, but to emphasize the territory she has marked. And you can barely hear her possessive tangent through the sound of your own heart racing and the wet, sucking sound of your walls latching onto her. The mewls escaping your mouth have increased in volume and intensity, Carlos now nothing but a distant memory in your foggy brain.
"Y'know I once caught him sniffing your sweater like some sort of depraved junkie? Hand stuffed in his pants like a fuckin' pervert?" You can barely hear the woman speak, not when she's simultaneously turning you into nothing but a pile of mush.
“Bet he’s biting his damn fists thinking about me fuckin' you like this. 'Crying like a bitch knowing you're getting the best fuck of your life out here.” Once again, you're too dumb with pleasure to remind Jill you are also biting your fists and crying fat tears, but for different reasons than the vision she painted of Carlos.
“All mine, all fuckin' mine, baby. No one can fuck you like me, no one...” Her free hand finds its way to your nipple. The pulling and tugging earn her a loud cry from your throat that she practically revels in.
That familiar, but now incredibly stifling and heart-stopping, pool of heat begins to build in your tummy. With a slack jaw and incoherent ramblings, you attempt to find your voice and express the inevitable incoming through your incessant wailing.
"Jill, I-... I'm gonna- Fuck- I'm gonna...!" Jill quirks a brow in response.
"Gonna cum, baby? Hmm?" She exhaled with a quick chuckle, fully splitting you open with her fingers at this point. "All your fault, all your fault for being this fuckin' pretty. Can't fuckin' resist.”
“No, I-... I can’t help it when your fingers are just- just fucking stretching me out.” You throw your head back once more. The way the motorcycle juts uncomfortably at your skull fails to overpower the sheer fervor you're feeling.
Jill merely laughs in response. “Yeah? 'Gonna get all messy on my fingers? Get your fuckin' cum all over my bike?” The heat within you builds and builds until it becomes suffocating for your sweaty body to contain.
"C'mon, pretty thing. Cum f'me..."
With that, the damn breaks and it's as if you had released an entire tsunami the way you spurt around Jill.
Her mouth latches to yours during your peak, tongues mashing against one another. Chest pressed against yours, all your senses know are Jill, Jill, Jill. It is practically agonizing, how gut-wrenchingly pleasurable the orgasm is.
And Jill, all she can do is coo, tease, and watch in absolute wonder at how perfect this was. How perfect you are. When your peak is finally pacified into calm waves, your body goes limp against the bike and your essense leaks onto the clean leather. The entire room seems to melt away while you're brain is still scrambling to garner any brain cells Jill had managed to fuck out of you.
She removes her fingers from your heavenly heat and just stares at the way your slick paints her digits. Standing, Jill uses her heel to kick the rolling stool behind her. Her slender figure is finally able to rest as she sits down, heavy gaze still locked on the captivating sight of you all over her fingers. She brings them to her lips, eyes watering when she is able to catch a whiff, but stops herself before they can reach past and show her tongue what heaven is.
An idea, albeit a bad one (something Jill is notorious for), sprouts in her mind. The part of your body she has so kindly destroyed is sitting right before her, like a grand meal crafted by the most talented chef, just for her. Surely, a meal better than anything Carlos has ever made (which she knows he would certainly agree with, but she digresses).
With a kick to the cement floor, the stool slides across the room. Hastily grabbing a few random cable ties, Jill then swerves back to you. A gentle hand on your cheek, she presses yet another kiss to your whimpering mouth. It is soft and sweet, but it is easy to notice the dominating tendencies that lie beneath the surface. You reciprocate the affections, albeit clumsily, due to your dazed state.
While your tongues practically cuddle with one another, adorning the other in heaps of saliva, you can barely feel how Jill grasps hold of your wrist. She then presses it against the motorcycle handlebar. With her mouth latched to yours like a leech, she uses the cable tie to restrain your wrist to the handle. The other wrist is tied to the adjacent bar swiftly, to where you are now entirely restrained to the bike.
What she plans to do will be far too much for your exhausted body to handle. So, she must ensure that you stay pliant and accept even more heaps of the torturous zeal she intends for you to endure.
Fortunately, you don't seem to mind one bit. Your poor brain still hasn't processed that you will soon go through that same overwhelming, almost-painful pleasure once more. Scooting closer to you, Jill's heavy breaths fan against your sex and earns her a faint gasp from the light stimulation. Mere inches away, the scent of you floods her senses and further envelops her into whatever magic spell you put her under.
Six years. Six whole years.
Through the depraved loneliness of being without the one she loves most, there was always a curious desire that prodded at her brain. 
How would you take her? Would you like it rough and intense or soft and tender? What sounds would you make? Would you be shamelessly loud or try to restrain your cute whines? How much stamina would you have? Could she make you weak with mere minutes of intimate contact or would you challenge her to hours of bringing you venereal satisfaction? 
The mere idea always sends her hands downstairs, vowing that she'll find you and make you feel even half the sheer euphoria you gift her. And as if the heavens had heard her prayers, despite her irreverent mentality, you have finally returned to her.
With that, Jill lets her jaw drop and tongue fall. Greedily, yet savorly, she drags the muscle from the bottom of your sex to the top.
And the ecstatic delirium that floods her body rivals any drug she could ever pump into her system.
You yank against your restraints and cry from the sudden sensation, her hot breath against your most sensitive parts only adding to the overstimulation. A pleasured groan absconds from Jill's muffled mouth. She has teased this idea numerous times, but the fantasies she's had where she wondered how your essence would sit on her tongue, none of it compared to the real thing.
Better than the most arduous whiskey, better than the ripest fruits, better than water after an eternity spent in a desert. She'd give anything to spend the rest of her life down here.
"Jesus- fuck, baby." Her curses are muted due to the close contact, but with a licentious squelch, she casts her gaze to your face. "If I was on death row, I'd choose this as my last meal... Oh, I'd die a fuckin' saint."
The lewd noises and dirty talk only make you flush more. With your arms restrained, there's no shyly covering your face or hushing your salacious noises. You are entirely vulnerable to whatever Jill intends to put you through.
And as quick as she pulled back to express the thoughts running through her mind, she dives right back into you. There's no gradual descent, no build-up. Just an unadulterated, hungered frenzy that Jill takes out on your poor body. Every devouring suckle has your legs squirming, which she is able to hold down with ease. Nothing can prevent Jill from indulging in the absolute nirvana leaking out of you. Nothing.
Slurping and sucking like a goddamn vampire, you whimper about how the pleasure is too much for you to handle. A hushed chuckle escapes from Jill and reverberates through your entire body, the appending commotion sending a warm tremble down your spine. She could never stop so soon, not with your candied flavor and gorgeous sounds enveloping her like a soft embrace. 
Jill was never one to simply flick her tongue, either. No, she was insistent on having your juices explore every inch of her mouth, no matter if it strained her jaw or numbed her tongue. God, this woman was practically drunk on you.
“Could never be done with this pretty body, baby. Never.” Everything you are now experiencing has your brain blanking, entirely unable to process any of her words.
Even when you try to put on your best puppy-dog eyes, as it always makes her weak, she refused to abandon her desires. Your relentless pleas for mercy simply fall on deaf ears. Through all her snarky comments and cocky remarks, it's almost comical how the only way to shut her up was for you to just let her put her mouth all over you.
And everything is just so lewd, so sloppy, so rough. Crescent-moon shapes are carved into your thighs as she pins them down, allowing her greedy mouth further access. Satisfied groans escape from Jill as she just revels in how good it is to be smothered in the absolute love potion pouring into her mouth. Bony hands cling to your hips as she rolls you in a rushed rhythm, needily grinding you against her mouth. Lapping at you like a goddamn slushie, all you can do is lay back and accept the relentless torture. And God, it drives you fucking insane.
You don't even recognize yourself anymore; you've become reminiscent of a famous pornstar the way slobber leaks down your chin and how your moans bounce off the walls. And Jill is just drinking in this sight. She hopes that if she stares long enough, this image will forever be burned into her memory and imprinted behind her eyelids. An eternal porno crafted just for her.
With another flare of heat building, one far more intense than ever before, you truly begin to lose yourself in the whirlpool of soul-crushing pleasure. And every suck and churn of her tongue has your back arching uncontrollably, pushing you further and further to that edge.
Everything intensifies and before you can whimper out a warning, the mob within you releases and you practically gush onto Jill's face.
You cut off her animalistic grunts with the loudest sound you're positive you have ever made. Not even the screams of terror you let out back in Raccoon City could compare to the sheer volume that escapes your throat at this moment. Your entire body is enveloped in violent shivers, to where Jill has to cling to you to prevent the shocks from sending you to the ground. Her covetous tongue guzzles every last drop of you.
It isn't until she hears a cry framed with more pain than pleasure does she finally snap from her libido-filled daze. This doesn't prevent her from indulging in one last obnoxious slurp before finally parting from the best meal she has ever had.
From the jacket she had thrown indolently against the table, Jill reaches over and pulls out her rusted pocket knife. She scoots closer to your face, heart lurching when she sees the tears painting your cheeks. She wipes them clean with her thumb and presses a languid kiss to your sweat-ridden forehead.
Swiftly, Jill cuts the ties around your wrist while remaining ever-so careful to prevent harming your precious skin. Now free, you let out a feeble whimper and grasp hold of her shoulders, outright begging for her care. And Jill practically melts into a puddle at the sight. She encases her constricting arms around your waist and relishes in the way your wrap your arms firmly around her. God, you make her so fucking weak.
You never need to ask her for affection. She would give you absolutely anything.
"Sweet butterfly, you did so fuckin' good. 'Came so hard f'me."
You wrap your naked legs around Jill's form as a means to get even closer to her. In response, she has to keep the sudden flare of desire derived from the action at bay. She's put you through enough, after all. Someone as drop-dead gorgeous as you, anyone in their right mind would plead with the universe to feel those beautiful legs wrapped around them. However, she can't indulge in the fantasies that consisted of you latching onto her like this. Oh, another day. Another day...
When your brain is able to clear through all the dissipated fog, you find yourself in the bathroom with the woman who brought you pleasure you didn't know existed. Stifling water pours down your body, and you are locked in Jill's nude embrace.
Taking a shower with her — this was nothing out of the ordinary. For the five months you have spent here, she has always insisted on washing you with a myriad of excuses. From wishing to show you a new body wash to insisting you were too ill to do it by yourself, cleaning yourself alone is a privilege you haven't known in ages.
The scent of your favorite body wash now sits on your wet skin. Her calloused fingers massage the ambrosial suds into your body and you swear you could fall asleep from the peaceful rhythm. Pampering you, despite your assurances of how you can take care of yourself, is something she has always loved to do. With how easy it is to send you into a state of tranquility, it never fails to make her laugh. Like a sleepy puppy, she jokes to herself.
Ever so greedily, Jill grasps your jaw tenderly and ushers you to meet her gaze.
“C'mon, give me a kiss, baby. Taste how good I made you feel.”
In response, you make weary endeavors to place your lips against her chapped ones. She hums, how cute.
Taking the full initiative of effort, Jill moans as she molds her mouth against yours once again. Her tongue slithers in, allowing you to bask in the flavor she has developed a newfound addiction to. The act of affection is quick, considering how the heat of your nude body and your mouth against hers may push Jill into numbing your mind with pleasure, once more.
From here, she lets you rest your head against her shoulder and your tired body against her form. She continues to massage the fruit-scented soap into your skin, indulging in the satisfied hums she earns when she massages certain knots out of your muscles.
"Y'know, Carlos had a fuckin' field day when I took you back into the house. 'Thought I was murdering you in there, heh." You've been steered into such a meditative state, your exhausted brain fails to process any of Jill's words.
"It's a fuckin' miracle he let me be alone with you right now. 'Had to threaten him with telling you what I caught him doing with your sweater. Fuckin' idiot was so scared, he doesn't even know I already told you."
She presses an abiding kiss to your head before continuing.
"Do you remember, baby? Or were you too fucked out to use your head...? Kinda hard to listen to me when I'm fuckin' your brains out, huh?"
Other than being between your thighs, Jill could spend forever here.
Nights spent trying out facemasks with ridiculous scents, drawing hearts and your initials on the steamed shower walls, and the adoring giggle you give her when she lets you use her hair and face to make soap mohawks or soap beards. There is nothing in the universe that could equate to the ineluctable love Jill has for you. Absolutely nothing.
As every night goes, she massages fragranced lotions into your flesh and dresses you in cloud-soft pajama bottoms. This time, however, she reluctantly wraps one of Carlos' shirts around your form as compensation on his end for what she put you through.
Speaking of the devil, her fingers merely hover over the lock on the bathroom door and he is already trying to force his way in. With a hushed yell of "They're sleeping, can you chill the fuck out!?" Carlos is barrelling into the room, shoving past Jill, and rushing to where your unconscious body is resting on the bathroom counter.
In an instant, his always-gentle hands are on your body, checking for injuries, and faintly whimpers out "My baby" and "What did she do to you?" Jill rolls her eyes and scoffs at how dramatic he is. She would never hurt you, he should know that by now.
Carlos then brings you into his arms as if he were cradling a baby bird, carrying you out of the ensuite and to the lavish sheets of his bed. Two sets of glares at each other, as if they were teenage girls fighting for the heart of the dashing quarterback, and Jill begrudgingly leaves the bedroom.
Locking the door behind her, Carlos wastes no time in climbing beneath the expensive covers and enveloping you in an embrace. The anger poking at his sanity is eased from the warm weight of your body as he snuggles into you. You've always had a knack for mending even the worst parts of him, after all. Still, the rage provoked by what that monster put his precious bumblebee through simmers beneath the surface.
"I should have stopped it. I should have been there..." Carlos places a hand against your chest, searching for the sound that he is wholly convinced can mend any and all turmoil. "But, she would have taken you from me if I stopped her... I'm so sorry, my bumblebee..." The familiar ba-bump! beneath your flesh rivals a genuine lullaby.
Hours passed, and your heartbeat soothes Carlos into a deep slumber. Those protective arms never once weaken from around your body.
Moonlight now paints the bedroom and frames your face; Jill thinks you were painted by Da Vinci himself as she admires you in your unconscious state. The way you so frivolously make her heart grow without lifting a finger should be considered a crime. Though, the sight of you in handcuffs may convince her to give you a lighter sentence. Several gentle nudges to your arm and your eyes flutter open. A finger is pressed to your lips when you try and inquire about her intentions.
"Wanna get outta here?" The prospect of being out of this prison cell makes a smile grow on your lips. Slowly, you remove the constricting arms of Carlos from around your waist and escape the warm expanse of blankets.
Tip-toeing through the home, hushed giggles fill the silent air as you and Jill finally arrive at the garage. Another idea, albeit a bad one (once again, something she is notorious for), had sprouted in her mind. A quick ride on her new-and-improved motorcycle and you'll be back before Carlos even notices you're gone, she assures you. To let you momentarily venture away from this humble abode like a bratty child whose time-out has ended was all you truly wanted.
She has her signature battered jeans on with her biker jacket. Meanwhile, you're stood with your fluffy pajama bottoms, t-shirt beneath a chunky sweater (since Carlos insisted you'd get cold during the night), and bumblebee slippers. The teddy-bear necklace he gifted you is adorned around your neck, as well. You always feel a strange familiarity when you catch sight of the bumblebee necklace he is never seen without. Where have you seen it before?
You'd feel like a loser in her presence if it weren't for those damned heart eyes she's giving you. Jill loves you. So, so much. Even through everything that has happened in these few months, that much is for certain.
"C'mon, wasn't it you who said you wanted to test out the new ride? Or do you not remember that, either?" She taps the seat behind her as a gesture for you to join her.
You fumble to catch the spare helmet she chucks your way and copy how she fastens hers around her head. If you had learned anything that day, motorcycle logic is something you are certainly not familiar with.
Before you are able to sit in the exact spot you had lost all rational thought in just hours ago, Jill halts your actions. She stands to her feet and begins to scrutinize the state of your helmet, all to ensure everything is secure and protecting that pretty face of yours. Despite her reckless nature, anything that could jeopardize your safety has alarms blaring all throughout her thoughts. Still, you deserve to partake in the adrenaline-inducing excitement only she can bring.
Propping down onto the seat (correctly, this time), your arms hover around Jill's waist in an awkward attempt to respect boundaries. Impatient and needy as ever, she revs the engine and the sudden, thunderous roar has you clinging to her body in startlement. The sound will surely wake Carlos, despite his deep-sleeping nature. Swiftly, before the angered grizzly bear can storm out and drag you back to safety, Jill hastens down the long driveway surrounded by empty forestry.
Making a mental note of any potential landmarks was fruitless. There is absolutely nothing that could verify where on planet Earth you were right now. Through the grapevine, or just the instances you've eavesdropped on Jill and Carlos' arguments, this home you've resided in was apparently in Spain. Where exactly in Spain do the three of you live, you haven't a clue. Any inquiries you have expressed have been neglected.
She then accelerates her speed in a teasing manner just to feel you cling harder to her, knocking the thoughts from your brain. With the few vehicles that have passed by you both, you still make effort to scrutinize their identity. All attempts were jeopardized by Jill who sped past them. As a last resort, you had considered jumping from the bike and making an abrupt dash into the woods. However, with broken bones and no ears to listen to your cries for help, that plan was abandoned as quickly as it was formed. 
At least the sex is good, you shamefully muse to yourself.
It had only been a mere 20 minutes before you returned to the dirt roads leading to your "humble" abode. From the garage, you see how the golden kitchen light glimmers through the windows and you mentally prepare yourself for the hurricane swarming your way.
With how engrossed you were with your mind, you haven't processed how Carlos will react to you being out of his train of vision for more than several seconds.
Jill's boot knocks the kickstand into place, seemingly reveling in her last few moments before you'd inevitably be snatched away from her. Despite how malleable Carlos was with a few empty threats regarding you, she knows that she crossed a line and nothing will make him bend. Still, she has no regrets whatsoever. Any moment with you is absolute paradise, no matter what consequences may follow afterward.
As if you were two teenagers who snuck out past curfew, you both walk through the front door with your tails between your legs. When you had fully expected Carlos to sprint over to you, the entire opposite happens. Upon your sudden entrance, all he does is sit at the kitchen island, staring blankly into the empty counter. The clutching of his fists, the bulge above his brow, the strain of his clenched jaw — all the telltale signs show that he is absolutely enraged. And the sheer aura of his fury is enough to make you capitulate into the corner.
An arrogant remark sits right on the edge of Jill's lips, but with a wave of your hand, you stop and assure her of how you can handle whatever tantrum is imminent. Approaching slowly, as if Carlos were a feral animal ready to maul anything that moves, you tread behind the island and halt straight across from him.
"I... I wore a helmet...?" You cringe at your own attempt at reassurance.
Face sheen with enmity, Carlos merely turns his head gradually and shifts his full attention to Jill. For the very first time in five months, your presence is ignored. It is almost as if you aren't even there.
You go on a clumsy tangent about how the entire stunt was not devoid of any safety precautions. Still, Carlos' full attention remains on Jill, who stands complacent as she practically revels in his dismay. Day after day, she has always won against him. Twisting his words, pulling his strings, declaring empty threats — he yields to her time after time. How terrified he is of the capability she has to destroy what little piece of you he has.
At this moment, however, this wrath within him has boiled over like a soup left behind on a burning stove. And the way he now looks at her is terrifying. If she goes missing before dawn, you won't be surprised.
In an attempt to save you from your awkward (albeit too-fucking adorable) rambling, Jill opens her mouth to deliver an eloquent explanation. She is able to verbalize a mere syllable before Carlos slams his fist into the countertop, the surface cracking beneath the force of his strength. You cower away from the sudden shift in his energy, which he fails to notice.
Standing abruptly, he charges at Jill in three large strides. Winding his arm back, he surges his fist forward and strikes her in the nose. She grunts, stumbling in her stance from the contact. The room is overwhelmed by silence, accompanied by two sets of panting breaths. Jill spits out a large web of blood onto the hardwood floors and without flinching, she forces her nose back into place with a gut-wrenching crack.
Entirely flabbergasted, you merely stand like a dumbfounded fool while you watch the following events play out.
"That's all 'ya got, pussy? C'mon, man. Hit me!" A smile painted with blood stretches on her face and Carlos ignites with rage. He wants her fucking dead.
Another strike lands on her face once more, to where she slumps to her knees when her legs fail her. Quirking her head, she looks up to Carlos with that annoyingly-smug smirk. Coughing out a bitter chuckle, Jill can't refrain from expressing how hilarious she finds Carlos' pathetic attempt at taking you from her. The way he stands before her, so overwhelmed with farcical rage. How can expect her not to burst out laughing from the pitiful sight?
And without words, the tense gaze they share with one another expresses the same declaration. No matter how much blood is spilled, you can't take them away from me. Using the wall for stability, Jill is able to lift herself from the ground, sharp eyes still attached to Carlos' glower.
"You want a fucking piece of me!? I'll kill you right now, pack my shit, and then take Y/N somewhere you won't ever hurt them again!" The second the words fall from his mouth, that familiar, pompous expression plastered on Jill's face suffers from an abrupt shift.
The sheer audacity this man has to feel entitled to you baffles her. Especially after such undeserving kindness she has shown him. Informing him of your location in Umbrella's sanctuary, the mere act of allowing him in your presence was far more than he could ever deserve. Every day of the past six years had been spent tearing her soul to indistinguishable shreds before sculpting every piece back. And like Hell, she'd let this underdog rid her of the most important thing in her life.
A gasp is precipitously torn from you when Jill withdraws her pocket knife from her leather jacket. With a swift stab and a loud roar, Carlos manages to block her efforts. Still, he remained one second too late when she managed to slice into his arm. He squalls from the harrowing contact but is swift in his recovery.
Despite the blood rushing down his forearm, he surges another punch toward her face. Jill is able to dodge his angry fist, dropping her beloved knife, before launching a brutal blow to his jaw. The force sends Carlos tumbling to the ground with a harsh clamor. After several years of heavy lifting to relieve stress, Jill has built quite a lot of strength. Carlos, as well, but the sheer rage she now possesses could combat even the strongest of brutes.
She punts the knife across the floor and away from his reaching grasp, hereby declaring to send this man to his demise with her bare hands. Straddling him, he has no time to defend himself when she begins to send punch after punch wherever her fists can land.
"Try that shit and I'll gut you like a fuckin' fish!" Jill's newfound tone is reminiscent of an actual monster. The tone has you shuddering in your stance as you can only stare in sheer dread.
The sight of splattered blood and blooming bruises causes nausea to squirm in your stomach like an unwelcome insect. All the words and pleas you wish to scream out are seemingly trapped in the expanse of your throat. Trying to physically separate the two rabid animals may cause you to be harmed in the crossfire. You fear what infantilizing, guilt-ridden treatment you may receive upon that probability. Instead, in a quick flare of rationality, you conjure up an idea you are positive will end this sudden explosion of violence. An idea you know will make them weak.
Without a second thought, the words are spilling from your mouth in a desperate shout.
"I'M LEAVING!"
Voice cracking and laced with awkward nerves, your sudden uproar still succeeds in capturing both of their attention. And the alter in their behavior is so abrupt, it is almost as if they weren't ever at each other's throats. In seconds, they're scrambling to their feet and rushing to your aid, the bloodied knife and fallout of savagery now nonexistent.
"You've seen there's nothing out there for miles, you'd be chow for the wolves!" Jill's voice has returned to the familiar tone she has claimed for you.
Eyes now shimmering with the desperate softness you're so amicable with, it is bewildering how swift these two are to team up when they need it the most.
"Not much different than what's in here..."
If it was audible, the sound of their hearts shattering would burst your eardrums from the sheer mass. Carlos' reaction is overtly emotional, as he always is. Jill perceptibly abates from your words, the sudden sorrow enveloping her expression a shock to you. That collected nature she always acquires crumbles right before your very eyes.
Before she can cling to you and vow to give you whatever it is you want, as long as you stay, Carlos falls to his knees and grasps your full attention. With his head against the floor and his hands clinging to your legs, he proceeds to grovel for you. Warm tears cascade onto your feet and you discern how the raging storm has finally eased. All that is left now is the sound of Carlos' raucous crying and Jill's stressed suspires.
Casting his gaze upwards, Carlos' face is twisted from the sobs jutting out of his body. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so, so, so, sorry. Hit me, stab me, skin me, do anything! Just... Just don't leave me...”
A gentle hand to your forearm and Jill is whispering of how it's time for you to go to bed. You clench your teeth, ready to inquire if she was genuinely serious. However, the notable guilt in her manner informs you of the actual demand she asks of you. Please, end this. It is only you who can calm us. 
From this revelation, you oblige by her orders and begin to stride away from this mess. To feel you move from his tenacious touch, further away from him, Carlos suddenly springs to his feet. He envelops you with his full body weight, another whimper of "don't leave me" whispered into your neck. Never weakening his grasp, you guide him out of the kitchen and you both amble together to Carlos' bedroom. Meanwhile, Jill plants her head in her bruised hands, a sigh of defeat escaping her from how disastrous she has let this day become.
Tonight, Carlos sought any inkling of solace you have. Anything to promise him you are still here with him.
Attempting to flick off the lamplight, your efforts were futile when he practically chucks you into the comforters. Despite his aggression to keep you close (and away from that barbarian), he holds you as if he were handling glass. As he always does.
With a heavy-set preference, he adores sleeping in any position that grants him the privilege of listening to your heartbeat and inhaling your wondrous scent. The combining senses serve as an enlightening reminder that you are alive and here with him. This night was certainly no different, as Carlos clambers into bed with you, albeit clumsily due to his large figure. He then nuzzles his head between the expanse of your shoulder and neck comfortably.
The human-weighted blanket resting on top of you mollifies your exhausted body. Carlos has an earthy scent, like Summer air and fresh grass right after a rainstorm. It soothes you into dreamland and this fact fills you with shame, as well. This sudden contrast in your life doesn't fog your judgment entirely, though. With every day the rain falls, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Carlos Oliveira loves the scent of Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of his obsession are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
Taking a deep inhale, the serenity that courses through his bones causes his eyes to roll back into his skull. How absolutely serene it is to feel your fingers combing through his thick hair, arms adorned around his brawny figure, and tender lips pressed to his forehead. His cries, now reduced to soft whimpers, tickle against your skin.
No matter the circumstances, being enveloped in your embrace as the day comes to an end will always make his heart swell. To climb into bed and find the most beautiful, breathtaking sight at the edge of his fingertips — there is no bliss quite like it.
The aroma that sent him to heaven six years ago, how he had searched high and low for anything reminiscent of it. A multitude of soaps, air fresheners, perfumes, laundry detergent, and just anything that contained a similar scent to you encircled his home. Despairingly, he has tried to recreate this and pretended it was your fragrance pervading from your warm, lively body. Nevertheless, his efforts were futile.
The scent you possessed was evocatively ambrosial, but it was utterly human. It was so unique, he felt like a fool for believing something as mere as a lit candle or a stick of deodorant could ever replicate that perfection.
At this moment, however, Carlos inhales your scent from your body as if he couldn't breathe. And he is positive there is nothing in the world that could rival the sheer euphoria it gives him. Within minutes, the man using you as his personal mattress begins to snore like a lawn mower. Soon, you fall asleep within his tenacious embrace, as well.
Once morning draws and you blink into consciousness, you find yourself entirely by your lonesome. No clinging Carlos, no amorous Jill. Just sheer, unadulterated solitude. You hadn't realized how familiar the prospect of waking up with company had become, especially after years of early-morning seclusion. The rain still falls; the birds still sing. And for the first time in months, you are alone.
This revelation is short-lived when the man who had clung to you for the entire night soon enters the bedroom. The wound on his arm has since been tended to, the bruises left behind are now affixed to his skin, and his face is puffy from the tears that cascaded just hours before. Through all of this, an almost-manic smile is planted on his face. All as if nothing had ever happened.
A delectable scent follows his presence when he brings a serving cart into the room. On the cart, he had perfected a myriad of dishes for you to enjoy. A stack of French toast, a steaming frittata, scattering scones, multiple parfaits, and numerous other gourmet dishes you can't even dream of pronouncing the names of. All of this for three people, you fear that Carlos will make you devour every last crumb and the ongoing effects it will have on your poor stomach. The way he normally does to ensure you aren't left hungry, as every morning consisted of something along these themes.
In this case, however, the belligerent display of affection and the lingering shadow of last night's events differ immensely from what you had adapted to.
Gleefully, Carlos sits at the edge of the bed beside you and drapes a bed tray upon your lap. A mug painted in your favorite color is full of tea and sits on an neighboring coaster, while he sits and waits anxiously for you to pick your first dish of the day.
When you notice the single set of cutlery, reserved for just you and him to share, you furrow your brows. Where is Jill's set? And why hasn't she prevented him from cooking such an obnoxious amount of food? 
Carlos' body goes rigid the instant you speak her name. With an alarmingly flat tone, he claims that she is gone for "work purposes," and despite your hesitance to believe him, he speaks of nothing but the truth.
After such a vicious outburst, Jill had humbly concluded that her relentless torture against Carlos must falter. Not for his sake, but for yours. Now, she will gift him a single day (nothing more) to entirely immerse himself in your healing presence, the same way a child needs to snuggle their teddy bear after a nightmare. While she is away, however, you and your well-being are stamped in her mind and prevent her from completing any work. It makes her sick with worry.
The event affected all three of you, physically and mentally. The several seconds spent with Carlos informed you entirely of his current state, but Jill remained a mystery.
And when Carlos had first entered the bedroom, the sight of your bleary eyes and drooping eye bags almost made him burst into tears right then and there. Unfortunately, he had broken down several times during his tireless efforts to make you an entire buffet for breakfast. However, with what little strength he was able to muster, Carlos is able to dry his tears in your presence. Still, he cannot ponder how you may have feared him in that moment or he might just collapse into a mental breakdown on the floor.
His hands, slower and softer than ever before, find their way to your face. Cupping your cheeks, you find a tornado of swirling emotions within his eyes. Devastation, regret, devotion, guilt, obsession. It is bewildering and terrifying in the same vein.
"You know, last night, I..." The featheriness within his voice is a major contrast to the infuriated uproar you witnessed last night. "I thought you were gone. For good. Still, I… I should have controlled myself. I should have stopped Jill from taking you away, I mean you could've-..."
When those all-too-familiar tears prick at his eyes and threaten to fall, you know his strength has been worn thin. "I just- I-I don't know what I would do if you-"
Carlos cuts himself off with a cracked sob. A wobbly "I'm sorry" is whispered before he excuses himself and abruptly leaves the bedroom. The sounds of his unruly sobs follow him in his footsteps.
After such an intense evening, the consequences of the aftermath haven't truly settled in for you until this moment. Enveloped in silence, you ponder over how one sentence of yours had led to such a disastrous outcome. You contemplate how you had merely met these two in a random city and set them on a lifelong quest to make you forever theirs. At this moment, you question just how much you are capable of.
Plucking a random plate from the tray, you grasp hold of the cutlery and dig into the succulent dish. You eat alone for the first time in five months. You don't know what you have done, but you know you have to clean this mess. Might as well have some fun before it depreciates...
Caring for you, it is certainly no secret how much Carlos enjoys the act. With every assurance you are not some impotent child, all efforts fall on deaf ears. Though, you realize you may be able to mold this to your benefit.
Tending to your every need, it is not done out of upholding a burden. You can take care of yourself, but you do not have to. The look of gratitude you give Carlos when you thank him is reward enough.
This leaves him in Jill's ensuite bathroom, where a hamper overwhelmed with dirty clothes resides in the corner. Being your devoted house-husband practically makes him giddy, so the sight is never onerous in the slightest. Jill, being the slob at heart, did leave a few articles of clothing on the ground, despite the hamper being mere feet away. As irritating as this was, Carlos merely decorates his brain with delusions of the two of you living alone together. This phenomenon has aided him through his efforts in enduring her presence, living in his imagination where you and he live happily ever after. Far, far away.
The sole reason Carlos was not glued to your side at this exact moment was due to how he had just put you in bed for your afternoon nap. Your insistent remarks of how you do not need to sleep in the middle of the day, once again, fall on deaf ears. You have no choice but to rest while he tends to every burden of yours; all responsibilities you possess have now become his. And he could not possibly be happier.
At first, you had stubbornly stood by your exclamation that it would be impossible for you to fall asleep. However, with closed curtains enveloping the room in darkness, peaceful incense pervading the air, soft lullabies harmonizing from speakers, and comforters that could rival lambswool snuggled around you, it didn't take long for you to succumb.
With you now fast asleep, Carlos works hastily, yet thoroughly, around the house so he can return to the love den where you lie. Rubbing circles into your back that soothe you further into sleep, it never fails to make him beam with happiness. And despite his tireless efforts, the disgusting scent of Jill reeking from her clothes protrudes into his beloved fantasy.
A sneer forms on his lips as he pinches the garments with his fingers, touching as little of them as he could, before chucking them into the hamper. The force of the launch sends the entire hamper tumbling over, to where the mess of dirty laundry scatters amongst the clean tiles. He grumbles, once again using minimum effort to collect Jill's clothing while cooing upon holding every crumbled attire that belongs to you.
As he returns the laundry to its respectful place within the hamper, Carlos gleefully grasps hold of one of your henley shirts. What lies beneath causes him to freeze, however.
Shamefully, he salivates at the sight of your underwear.
Several times, this offer has tempted him. To revel in how your essence wafts from the garb, any sane human would want to breathe in that scent forever. But he is not like others; he is stronger than them. For you, he will tie his immense cravings to a leash and restrain them, however long and tight you seem fit.
Due to recent events, however, the structured guard he built brick-by-brick has suffered numerous blows. All at the hands of Jill Valentine. There is not a place in the universe where you could be a burden to him, but her? She is the only reason why anger still makes a home within him.
Carlos needs you. He selfishly needs every last sliver of you, everything Jill had robbed him of the previous day. The self-control he prided himself on has seemingly abandoned him. Then again, how could he control himself when this opportunity has fallen from the hands of God and directly into the palm of his hands? How could he control himself when the purest form of you sits right there, practically calling out his name in the sound of your voice?
With that, he rips the bandaid off. Faster than the speed of light, he yanks your underwear into his hands and practically shoves them into his nostrils. And Carlos moans, so loud and blatant, as the fragrance of you invades every sense in his body.
Familiar, but suddenly overwhelmingly sweltering, a tightness forms within his pants. His vision goes black as his eyes roll into the back of his skull, a sudden flash of light then enveloping his eyesight; his knees resort to jelly, to where he has to cling to the edge of the bathroom counter to maintain his balance. The other hand still clenches your underwear protectively and dependently, as if he were an Art Conservator and he was holding the beautiful Mona Lisa. Oh, it is absolute heaven.
"Is that my...?"
As quick as he had practically inhaled the garment entirely, Carlos had rid his body of the pleasure induced by your scent when your dulcet voice filled the bathroom. Tossing the clothing with the others in the hamper, he pretends to lean against the counter with a rushed "what?" coming out in a quiet squeak. He stands with a hot face provoked by utter humiliation. How did he not hear the door open?
However, there is no loathing or repugnance in your expression, like he had originally anticipated. There's a look of hubris that washes over you when your brain scrutinizes just what you had stumbled upon. An unfamiliar glint sparks in your eyes that he is unable to read. It intrigues him, still.
Mere seconds feel like an agonizing eternity as he stands in the depths of his selfish libido. Instead of cursing Carlos out for his perverted nature, as he, once again, had originally anticipated, you do the very last thing he expected. Your fingers grasp the hem of your shirt before you pull the garb from off your form. And the preposterous gasp that is exuded from him in response almost forces a boisterous laugh out of you.
Your pants follow after, the soft whomp of the clothing hitting the ground remaining the loudest sound in the silent, reticent room. Lastly, you slowly strip yourself of your underwear, the very last thing protecting you from exposure. And you don't have to shift your gaze to know this man's wide eyes are glued to every inch of your naked skin.
"If you like my clothes that much, all you had to do was ask! I have so much already, take as much as you'd like..." The feigned generosity seeping from your tone does not mend the disorder within Carlos' pants.
Hooking your finger around your undergarments, you stride toward the man who is left entirely flabbergasted by your actions.
Chest-to-chest, you speak to him in a low whisper. "Wouldn't you rather have something fresh, anyways?"
You use your free hand to toy with the edge of his shirt, admiring the way his strong physique juts against the fabric. When your finger makes contact with the raw flesh of his abdomen, Carlos heaves out an uneven, stuttered breath. Almost as if he had run a marathon, your mere touch sends him tripping face-first into oblivion. The firm hand he placed upon the counter surface hastens into a desperate gasp to keep his balance, once again.
Just when Carlos had thought he had stumbled upon the gates of heaven, you purr out praises that make his eyes roll back into his head for the nth time. How strong he was when he defended your life back in Raccoon City to how he always managed to carry the groceries with one hand. Your candied words provoke a dreamy sigh out of him.
The silence on his end is bridging on the cusp of awkward. His gaze is hazy and drooping as Carlos stares into your eyes, nowhere else.
"S-Sleep..." You could hear a pin drop before you could discern his nervous tone. "You should... You-You should be sl- sleeping..."
"Alone? Or... Would you rather I sleep with you?" Another gasp flees from Carlos. His entire body breaks out into a shiver from your implications.
As much as his brain practically pleads him not to, he shifts his gaze away from you and to the boring ceiling in a weak attempt at maintaining courtesy. The single act is more difficult than any obstacle he has faced in his entire life.
As shameful as it is, however, Carlos has thought of this scene plenty of times. How he fantasized about enhancing the flavor of his food by mixing your delectable juices with the dish. How he winced listening to every pained whimper Jill pulled from you, but how his active imagination was contaminated with visions of gratifying you more than she ever could. You deserve every inkling of happiness the world has to offer and Carlos vows on doing everything within his power to grant you such.
The garment once in your hand is now long forgotten on the bathroom floor. Your pretty fingers barely hover over the expanse of his happy trail, adorned in thick heaps of jet-black hair. And he goes lightheaded from the faint contact alone.
You've already taken notice of the way his member protrudes through his jeans, but it is now clear as day how desperate Carlos wishes for you to choose him instead of your afternoon nap. Fortunately for him, you venture further, further, and further into his pants until your hand cups around his cock, nothing but the thin layer of his underwear separating you two. Carlos is never one to swear around you, (except for last night, but that is irrelevant) claiming you deserve tender praises instead of such violent language. Though, when you touch him, he growls out the most guttural "fuck!" you've ever heard part from someone's lips.
Perceiving how something wet leaks through his underwear, you furrow your brows as the revelation settles. Did you bring this man to orgasm just from being naked? No wonder it is always Jill who washes you... 
This should have been evident in the sudden acceleration of his breathing, the dreamy, lust-stained glimmer engulfing his eyes, or the way his body trembles as if had been stuck in a mid-Winter storm. He practically chucks his head back and rests against the bathroom mirror; his chopped fingernails could tear the counter in two with how firm he clenches onto the surface.
More gasps and soft whines escape his slack jaw, obviously abstaining from screaming how good you make him feel. And every pant of your name escaping his breathless self causes flares of heat to imbue your body.
More assembles of pre-cum amalgamate with the previous mass of still-warm seed and bleed through the fabric. You lift his shirt a mere inch to allow you easier access. But, Carlos is swift to obey what he assumed to be your command and he eagerly tears his shirt over his head.
A heavy set of mouthwatering abs sheen with sweat, a display of disheveled chest hair, and two pairs of beefy, scar-ridden arms is what you are met with. You do not put any effort into masking your obvious gawking of Carlos' build. And he is elated to have your eyes on him.
When he had assumed Jill took you from him the day before, never to be seen again, this heavy dread has sat cozy in his gut since. Today, to have your full attention on him as he presents how every inch of his skin is for you to own, the pressure lightens and flutters away like a Monarch Butterfly.
“Oh, my g- my goddd" Carlos whines out after one particular harsh thrust of your palm.
He begins to twitch in your grasp when your efforts accelerate; his eyebrows curl upwards beneath the canopy of his mop-head hair. Carlos hasn't dared to shift his eyes down to you. Out of reason of deference, as you deserve. Though, he knows as a genuine fact that a single glance at your naked body, intense gaze, and the sight of your hands all over him would thrust him like a football into an earth-bending finish.
Restraining himself was an absolute pipedream, however. Your voice, your touch, and your scent pervade and overwhelm all senses within him. When your nimble fingers ghost over the sensitive expanse of his balls, he almost keels over and can't obstruct the words that bubble in his throat.
“You're gonna- You're gonna make me cum again...!” Promptly, you then yank your hand from the warm depths of Carlos' pants, practically roistering in the way he genuinely cries from the loss of contact.
When you expect him to initiate a swarm of stuttering beseeches to please continue, please make him feel good, please send him to the absolute nirvana only you can give him, you are met with the opposite, instead. Much to your surprise, he begins to thank you profusely, over and over and over again.
To beg you for anything would go against all of Carlos' morals, as every breath out of your mouth is pure gospel. And he'd be damned if he were to ever let himself be selfish with you, hence why he drowns you in gratitude for ever-so kindly giving him even just a speck of pleasure. He does not deserve more of you; it should be him on his knees at this moment, worshiping all of you.
The facade you had painted with confidence begins to crack when you become genuinely concerned for his well-being. You had only fondled him for less than a minute, had you broken him already? 
The way he's heaving and gasping ushers you to believe he may blackout on the countertop. You wonder what Jill would think if she came home to found Carlos shirtless and unconscious on her bathroom counter, while you stand entirely naked with cum caked onto your hand. The thought is snatched from your mind when he begins to speak, almost as if he had magically sensed your attention reverting to her.
"Y/N... My-My honey, I can't stand just sitting here..." His adam's apple bobs when he swallows the salivation foaming in his mouth.
"Please let- Please let me make you feel good... Ask anything of me and it’ll be yours. There is nothing in this world I would ever deny you..." Carlos' tangent appeared like a bolt out of the blue.
Although your veneer had minor fractures due to your own shock, you still upheld your smug guise. With his eyes shut, still not daring to bask his undeserving gaze on your saintly body, you answer him with the same tone that never fails to make his knees weak.
"Take me to the bedroom."
Peeling his eyes open and casting his gaze on you, Carlos searches your expression for any sign of falter in truth. Another tremble reverberates through his body when he blesses his vision with the sight of you. After all, no matter how far he has fallen into the depths of enrapturement, any demand you throw his way will immediately be met.
He then clumsily stands to his feet. Fully expecting to walk there together, you take a single step away before a sudden yelp is pulled from you. With pure ease, you are suddenly scooped into Carlos' strong arms. When you encase your arms around his neck, the clammy state of his skin catches you off guard. Without a single speck of sweat on your entire body, you're perplexed he had been driven to such an exerted physical state from your trivial palm.
With how exhausted every fraction of Carlos seemed to be because of you, your heart caves. You shuffle from your spot in his arms and attempt to usher him down to the bed, where you would sit atop his body. This demand, despite his winning strike with following all, was rejected. His tender hands halt you from your efforts and hoist you back into his hold, once more.
"I'm sorry, honey-bee, but I-I can't let you work. Please- Please lay back and let me do everything I can to make you feel good... It's what you deserve; it's what I need." Even if you had turned his brain would mush, his relentless obligation to serve you could conquer through anything.
Arriving at your shared bed, Carlos drapes you among the silken sheets and is just in sheer awe of you. The atmosphere is uncomfortable as he hovers over you and just leers into the abyss of your soul. You then resort to pulling him against you by the back of his neck and enveloping him in an aggressive kiss.
The way Carlos kisses you has always been overwhelmed with reverent fervor. Now, however, there's a perceptible undertone of intense avidity in the way he molds his mouth against yours. And in the absolute best way possible, your scent overwhelms him like Summer sunlight beating against his skin.
Carlos has teased this idea numerous times, but the fantasies he's had where he wondered how your scent would sit in his nostrils, none of it compared to the real thing. Better than a crisp breeze in a mountaintop meadow, better than garden-fresh flowers, better than air after an eternity spent beneath the water. He'd give anything to spend the rest of his life with you.
Pulling away to allow your tight lungs the privilege of oxygen, Carlos immediately begins to fill the air with feverish, puddle-brained chatter. “Honey... Y/N... M’gonna take such good care of you, 'gonna do everything I can to make you happy. Won’t let anything happen to you, won’t let anything or anyone upset you... 'Gonna make you so happy.” 
A tug to his belt loop and Carlos obeys quicker than you could ever verbalize your desire. He tears his jeans off as if the garb had been on fire, exposing his toned legs adorned with dark hair.
Reaching your hand out just an inch, he seems to have read your mind and carries out your unspoken demand, once again. He strips himself of his underwear, to where he now towers over your form entirely naked. And you have to restrain yourself from physically expressing your astonishment at the sight. When you had thought you had drawn an accurate picture of him while your hand was exploring downstairs, you hadn't prepared yourself for how everything would sit before your eyes.
The most perceivable sight was how much girth Carlos possessed and the slight tinge of fear you felt for what it may do to your body. With a rough estimation of nine inches, his sticky tip blares an annoyed red, the same hue as his desperation. His happy trail had led to even more heaps of bushy hair. A prominent vein runs diagonally down his curved shaft. The thickness grows in width from the base to the very tip of his cock. A set of heavy balls, the same expanse of sensitive skin that had him shaking beneath you, sit beneath.
“You deserve everything, Y/N. You- you deserve it all. Please... Please tell me everything... Tell me what I can give you, I-I'll give it all to you...” The lack of vocal indications on your end has taken quite a toll on him. No verbal commands sent his way and he's on the verge of tears.
Your words, your body, your scent — everything about you has Carlos stumbling to another early finish. His lips seem glued to yours, as well. Tongues cemented together as his hands caress all over your perfect body.
With his heartbeat skyrocketing, his figure tense with shock, and the way his chest rises and falls with heaving breaths, it was crystal clear just how hard he was resisting the urge to give in and fuck you into the next week. But, you're his sweet bumblebee, his darling deity. To be so selfish with you would make him deserving of a punishment worse than death.
“Carlos..." He nods in response to you so eagerly, you wonder if the force had sent his brain slamming against the walls of his skull. "... I want you to fuck me and fill me up over and over again until there’s no possible way I can escape the happiness you bring me.”
The growl that erupts in response to your filthy words was something akin to an animal. His hands, now propped against the side of your head to prop himself up, now clench the bedsheets with enough force to rip them.
Eyes practically burning holes into his, you grasp hold of his dick and revel in the way he trembles in response, before aligning him with your entrance. Appallingly, a tube of scentless lube had been hidden in the bedside drawer for the entire five months you've been here. Just waiting for this moment.
Now entirely slick with lube and pre-cum (you wouldn't be surprised if Carlos' tears were in that mix, as well), you playfully nudge his bulbous head against the edge of your hole. For the second time that day, your free hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him into another burning kiss. With a deep inhale of preparation, you slide him into you with steady effort.
And the way Carlos whimpers against your mouth makes you inadvertently clench around him.
With the mere tip inside of you, his voice raises several octaves and his eyebrows furrow from the sensations flooding his body. The kiss is broken by Carlos involuntarily, to where his open mouth moans against yours shamelessly. His mind is plagued by every inch of euphoria he didn't think was humanly possible to conjure, to a point where any rational thought had been robbed.
The further your silken walls adjust to his girth, the more you guide him inside. Every whine, every moan, every breathless tangent about you're perfection in all of its glory — it has you hazy with salacious desire. His hands continue to fondle you passionately and his lips still plant love all over your face and neck. You never thought someone could treat you with such doting care, especially after Jill's rough tactics from the day prior.
When he is entirely buried within you, it ejects an abrupt sound out of both of you. A gasp escapes your throat from how full you are at this moment. Two lanky fingers had nothing on the sheer girth of this cock sitting inside of you. Carlos practically yelps at the feeling of being swathed in your heavenly heat. The revelation of what is happening finally settles and he can hardly contain the sheer exhilaration that seeps from his body.
The tears that had been bridging in his eyes release and cascade down his cheeks, another physical representation of how devastatingly devoted he is to you. The number of curses and pornographic moans he releases into your ear seem almost exaggerated, but if Carlos is anything, he is surely not a liar. To lie to you, of all people, would be pure sin.
“I can’t lose you to her...” He babbles mindlessly yet honestly, “I’m so fucking obsessed with you, I-... I really can’t lose you, baby-bee... You’re taking me too fucking good. God, please!”
"Aww, you poor thing..." You mockingly coo to him. "Are you 'gonna cum already? You said you'd take care of me, but here you are saying all this dumb gibberish just from having your dick inside of me."
Unbeknownst to you, the 'dumb gibberish' you assumed to be the product of a sex-drunk mind was the unadulterated truth.
You thought of his state as pitiful, but if you had known how every plead of his was genuine, you surely would not poke the bear. Meanwhile, every gentle thrust has Carlos whimpering and crying as the sheer love he has for you devastates his entire being. You could degrade him, insult him, beat him to within an inch of his life and he would still come back to you again and again. All as if he was born for the sole reason of making love to you. As if God crafted his mind, his body, and his soul for the sole purpose of bringing you pleasure.
And as endearing as the slow, sensual motions were, you have now fully adjusted to his size and you were craving more of what his body is capable of giving you.
"You said you'd do anything for me, yeah?" His reserved attention escapes from your body the second your voice pervades, to where he nods avidly without hesitation.
"Then fuck me like you mean it."
A hand against his tailbone, you usher him to accelerate his speed. And to call his rhythm messy would be generous.
Riddled with gut-wrenching pleasure, Carlos can hardly keep the pace he had used for the one-night stands he had years ago. Every random bar hopper or coworker he had in his sheets was nothing short of utterly boring. Still, he enjoyed the inflation they gave to his ego when they moaned in annoying tones about how he was the "best fuck of their life." With you beneath him, all finesse and skill had been fogged by the sheer eroticism he possesses for you.
Since you had waltzed into his life, those random hookups dulled so obnoxiously in comparison to you, not a single soul could get his blood pumping the way you do. Not that he ever attempted, however. Any attempt at buying him a drink or fluttering their lashes would be met with an unforeseen roar of fury. To interrupt the time he spent with you in his head was a death wish, after all.
In present time, more importantly, Carlos begins to plunge into you with religious fervor. Those muscles you could never grow tired of admiring become taut as they strive to send his dick as deep as it can go. His strong, dominant physique does not match the noises tumbling from his mouth, however. Labored praises and desperate wails pant against your face before he delves into another frenzied kiss of millions.
With what little knowledge that managed to survive the muddled storm reigning havoc within his brain, Carlos uses his free hand to stimulate your sex. You throw your head back against the cushioned pillows from the new, sudden flare of pleasure. Instead of the boost it gave to his self-esteem, the way it did with others, it feels as though someone had clenched his heart with their fist. To know he is making you feel good has no difference with absolute heaven.
The sensation of his cock twitching within the expanse of your walls has you giggling from how ephemeral he lasts.
"Are you gonna fill me to the fucking brim? Have me walk around the house with your hot cum leaking down my thighs? Let Jill see how fucking good you make me feel?"
“Fucking-" The way Carlos growls is almost monstrous. A grunt follows at the prospect of claiming you from Jill.
"Yeah? You like that idea?"
“God-fucking-damn, you know how much I fucking love that idea." The voice that had grown high-pitched had suffered from a sudden descent, his tone was now entirely guttural. Despite this, his hands always remain tender and those whimpers still sit on his tongue.
Carlos pulls his body upwards, grasping hold of your legs and setting them on his shoulders. Now in a mating press, your nipples and sweaty skin are practically snuggled into the hairy expanse of his chest. He cages his forearms around your head, hastening his sporadic assault inside of you.
The sudden force has your eyes crossing and your head dizzy with jubilation; the lavish bed frame squeals with every thrust sent into your body. That smug facade you had crafted for this event begins to melt into the sheets. From the bliss claiming your body and how overwhelmingly loved you feel, that familiar heat inside your gut intensifies. Feeling the absolute paradise of your walls begin to flutter around him, Carlos is completely lost in empyrean ecstasy at the sight of you so overwhelmed with happiness. Still, you deserve more. You deserve happiness that even he cannot give you, but he is more than willing to hunt down every sliver. 
I can't let you go, Carlos thinks to himself, If anything tried to take you from me, I'm scared of who I'd become...
"Please, honey... Please cum for me. Need to- Need you to feel good. Need you to cum around me. I don't care about me, I only care about you. Please, I-I'm begging you... Please..." It seems as though the heavy set of balls slapping against your ass weren't begging to release inside of you. Everything and anything is for you, after all.
In spite of your egoistic nature being squished with every thrust, a fraction of it remained.
"I'll cum if..." You teasingly bring your finger to your chin as if you were deep in thought, while Carlos anticipates your response. "I'll cum if you can tell me the first tooth I lost and how old I was..."
I've got him there, you muse to yourself. You entertain what kind of mindless delirium he'll plead out for you when it's impossible for him to guess the answer.
"Second premolar. Five years old."
The five words are said within a single breath.
And you don't have much of a chance to delve into how the fuck he knew that, not when his cock is sending you to cloud nine.
You retort with another demand, pretending you had never tried to make such a senseless joke in the first place.
"I... I'll only cum if you cum, too. 'Wanna feel your load inside me, 'wanna have proof of how good you treat me."
Carlos practically explodes into you from the words you whimpered out.
There is no build-up; your mere words control his body like a puppeteer and have him spilling out into your guts. A pleasured bleat, one that would emulate even the most expensive worker at a high-end brothel, escapes from him. Like some sort of slut he doesn't recognize, he wails out incoherent, babbling words of devotion.
Thick, sticky, warm seed paints your walls and oozes onto the fancy sheets below. Still, the sheer power of his thrusts does not waver in the slightest. Even with the fatigue settling into his body, Carlos' cock hardens instantaneously in response to your heat swathing around him.
“Finding me in RC that night was the worst mistake of your life.” Even in the face of the absolute mess you have turned him into, Carlos' voice still contains that deep, husky tone that sends chills down your body. “You’ll never be rid of me now. Wherever you go, I will follow. You will never escape my love; you will never escape my worship..."
You're practically crying at this point. From the satiating pleasure overwhelming your body, but also the terror-inducing undertones that stain all of Carlos' words. 
You will never escape this pleasure, you now realize.
And he is fully convinced you are God, how you tighten and moan for him. You had leaped down from the clouds, left behind an army of angels and devoted followers, and fallen right into his arms. All for him to dedicate his life to glorifying.
Toes curling and fingers clenching the sheets, the orgasm that soon hits you is adorned with love but is unbelievably severe in the same breath. A shriek of pure delectation sprouts from your throat and envelops the air. Meanwhile, the sight of you in the peaks of exhilaration pushes Carlos over that edge, once again.
“Fuuuuck. Give it to me, honey. Give it to me. F-Fuck…!”
Carlos' stomach sucks in, suffocating him entirely and confining around his gut like a tight knot. Another deafening curse follows when that string is cut and another load of seed is spilled into your body.
With his mind now past any barrier of chivalry, he has fully granted himself permission to subsume every inch of you. The sheer sight of all your skin is so impeccably paradisiacal, his body can't refrain from reacting.
In the height of his pleasure, he ponders over how if you were a religion, he’d live in the attic of your church and bathe in holy water every day. His knees would become numb from the hours spent praying at your altar; his eyes would become dry from the hours spent reading through the bible and analyzing every detail. Any syllable out of your mouth would be met with immediate agreement and any treacherous remarks others make adhering to you would be met with the barrel of his gun. Carlos is your most devoted follower, your most loyal servant. Always and forever, he is for you to use to your liking.
Languid and muzzy compliments kissed upon your skin tell you of how you have left Carlos entirely brain-dead. For a moment, you think you may have fucked all obsession out of him when his peak simmers down (although this prospect is impossible). With the sweat, lube, cum, and god-knows-what else is on your body, all you crave at this moment is a bubble bath. Then, you'll abide by the rules set out for you and indulge in an afternoon nap.
With that, you take advantage of his nearly-unconscious state and muster enough strength within you to shove his limp body off. A bereft whimper escapes his throat in response but is quickly overpowered by the sheer euphoria flooding his body. Soon, Carlos returns to mumbling nonsense about the perfection you possess and other incoherent babbles of captivation.
Standing, albeit wobbling slightly due to your woozy brain, you tread to the ensuite bathroom where this mess had first begun. You ignore the mess of dirty clothes scattered around in favor of cleaning your lethargic body.
A swift churn to the valve and lukewarm water begins to spread throughout the sumptuous bathtub. Several spurts of your favorite soap into the running faucet, the pleasant scent soon spreads throughout the room. Five months and the simple act of enjoying a bath in solitude was almost unfamiliar to you. Since then, you had forgotten just how meditative it was to let your body melt into the relaxing, warm water without any wandering hands. Massaging your muscles and scrubbing every mess from your smooth skin, it felt amazing and empowering to have control of yourself for once.
For the hour spent soaking in sheer tranquility, you then unclog the drain and watch as the water drains. Drying your body with an expensive towel you can't fathom the price of, you cast your gaze through the large window.
Outside, the only thing accompanying this house was trees. More heaps of rain scatter the area enveloped in late-night hues, accompanying the heavy fog that sat upon the forest floors. If it was merely that easy, you'd launch your body through that glass right now and dash for your freedom. But, you know your efforts would never be brought to fruition. Instead, you apply a set of perfumed lotion to your skin and dress yourself in a fresh set of clean pajamas. Again, something you had rarely been given the advantage to do yourself.
When you leave the ensuite, however, you are thrown into a loop when you witness what now lies within the bedroom.
Candles and incense scatter the dark room, illuminating the array of rose petals adorning the floors. The bed was now completely clean with a fresh set of sheets, pillows, and comforters. A tray table is set upon the blankets. Sat on top of it, you find a mug of your favorite tea and a glass of water with cucumber and lemon slices for him (it has always been his favorite, after all). Two plates of spaghetti with one fork accompany them, as well. In addition to this, a charcuterie board enriched with all sorts of delicious snacks was rested by the delicious meal.
The most unforgettable part about this sudden scene, however, was Carlos. In the hour you had spent alone, not only had managed to cook a variety of dishes for you, but he had also managed to shower in Jill's ensuite, style his hair, patch up his stubble, and dress himself in a tailored suit.
All you can do is stand on the threshold and question how in the fuck was he able to do all of this within a single hour? You are so flabbergasted in fact, you ponder if the bathtub behind you was actually a portal to an alternate reality. Additionally, you can't refrain from laughing to yourself over how he is surely the only man on Earth to set all of this up after sex.
With pure ease, once again, Carlos trudges over to you and scoops you up into his arms. Even with wet hair, pajamas, and tired eyes, it shocks you how this man still looks at you like you're a model fresh off the runway. Or more accurately, an angel that had descended from the clouds and into this bedroom.
"You know you didn't have to do all of this for me, right?" For the umpteenth time that day, Carlos sets you upon the fresh set of bedsheets, tucking the high-quality comforter around your legs.
"There is no line that I wouldn't cross for you..." A smile quirks on his lips. The horror-stricken connotations reside beneath the dreamy sheen of his gaze.
From here on out, Carlos sits on the edge of the bed and oscillates between feeding you and himself spaghetti. And the way he crafts the dish is easily the most delectable piece you have ever tasted, which is never a surprise when it comes to his culinary skills.
During the process, it seems as though everything has returned to normal and the events that had taken place on this exact bed had never happened. It isn't ignored out of embarrassment or regret, though. Instead, it is from absolute disbelief that such an amazing thing had happened to someone like him. He can hardly contain the gratitude and heart-stopping rapture coursing through his body, hence the dramatic measures he took to express these feelings.
With an onslaught of cheesy jokes and praises that would put Romeo and Juliet's love to shame, that smile you give Carlos makes everything he has ever done absolutely worth it. There is no greater happiness he can feel than when he is witnessing your own.
When you attempt to pluck a grape from the grape cluster rested upon the board, though, Carlos is brought out of his haze and he halts your actions. He grasps the cluster for himself, tilting your head back with a gentle tap to your chin, and proceeds to feed you grapes as if you were some divine being. And in his eyes, you are all that and more. It is evident in just how blissful he feels from feeding you, the act of worship far better than any drug.
When the cluster of ripe fruit was reduced to nothing but lone twigs, the disappointment within Carlos' expression was almost palpable. The sorrow is short-lived, however, when he resorts to feeding you more heaps of spaghetti.
If you were honest, you have lost count of how many times you have eaten this exact dish for dinner. At first, you were confused as to why you were all eating spaghetti almost every night. That is until you realized Carlos was attempting to reenact the adorable scene from Lady and the Tramp. It would have been romantic if it weren't for the third party practically glaring daggers into his soul every time he strived for this outcome. Without Jill here, you swallow your pride and indulge him in what he has been craving for months.
You bite down on the edge of the spaghetti string and hold the other end with the fork, ushering him into the act of affection. And God, Carlos lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when he finally computes your intentions.
Eagerly taking the string into his mouth, he does not savor the moment in the slightest. Before you can garner even an inch of the delicious capellini, Carlos is practically slurping the strand down his throat as he hastens closer to you. There's a wild glimmer that twinkles in his eye as he continues to accelerate.
A deep, shaky exhale is released from him when your lips finally meet. He tastes of his normal tang of mint and lemon but with the added flavor of his homemade marinara recipe. Using your teeth to cut the spaghetti string in two, your attempts at establishing how the romantic scene was over were never acknowledged. Large hands cling to your face and indulge in any last sliver of you he can hoard.
"I love you, honey-bee, I love you so much. You've saved my life over and over and over again and I will do everything in my power to show you how grateful I am..." Carlos' words are sweet and ridden with unhealthy amounts of ceaseless worship. Meanwhile, you chase your breath when he finally releases your mouth from his relentless, loving torture.
Soon, every crumb from all plates has vanished within your stomach, despite your assurances you have been fully satiated.
A tinge of guilt eats away at you when you realize just how much this man has done for you. The trance he is lost in whenever he tends to you has seemingly gone unbeknownst to you, even after all these months. You offer to take care of the dishes, but the way he tenses in response makes you recoil. It had been two months since it happened, but Carlos remembers it like it was a mere second ago.
When you had tended to the mess left after breakfast, your butterfingers had dropped a glass, causing it to shatter against the tiled floors. Fortunately, you had managed to lift yourself onto the counter in a swift attempt at protecting yourself. Despite these efforts, one minor, practically microscopic, cat scratch had been left on your shin. And Carlos lost his mind.
Since then, you have been banned from partaking in any house chores. This rule had stood before this incident, but with the new underlying fear, he was far more strict with this order. After all, you could clear your throat and he'd convince himself you were having an asthma attack.
Now, however, he reminds you of how you are still on bed rest from the night prior, before leaving a prolonged kiss on your forehead and leaving with the dishes.
The door closes and you immediately escape the restricting sheets surrounding you. Venturing onto the balcony, you rest against the ledge and admire how the stars scatter among the night sky. The bright moon complements them and dazzles you. All those nights in the sanctuary spent looking at the same sky, you wonder what your friends were occupied with right now. 
Are you still considered missing or have you been presumed dead by now? Did they all know you'd be taken away or are they still trying to search for you after you mysteriously vanished? 
Carlos returns in record time and you are swift in wiping away the evidence of tears brimming in your eyes. He informs you of how you should be in bed and attempts to sound strict, but the permanent, loving tint in his expression jeopardizes his efforts. With a face like yours, how could he ever be mad? 
When you ask to stay, he hesitates. But, when you give him those puppy-dog eyes that never fail to make him weak, he caves in. With an assurance of how you could stargaze on the porch swing together, as well as an additional remark of how he is more comfortable than the bed, his cheeks grow warm and all rules he had set are thrown out the window.
Sitting in the exact seat you had suggested, Carlos pulls you into his lap. Another stupid joke of millions is made by him before he blows a raspberry into the side of your face. The burst of laughter and heart-wrenching giggles he earns makes him feel weightless. A trail of kisses are left down your right arm, an act of affection he had always initiated in regards to the injury you faced six years ago. And by giving him a compliment about his suit and a nickname of "teddy bear" (his favorite), you have now melted this man into a puddle of sugary words and dazed devotion.
With the swinging of the chair, the tender caresses to your body, and the soft breeze from the late-night air, you soon drift off in his arms. In 24 hours, Carlos has concluded that he may forgive Jill for what she did to you if this is the product of all her wrongdoings.
Once more, with every day the rain falls, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira love Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of their adoration are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
Life with these two is mellow, but intense in the same breath. You're treated like royalty, never allowed to lift a single finger. However, never once in your life have you been indulged in such intense displays of devotion. You'll be worshiped like a deity, soon to be smothered beneath their suffocating embrace without any room for dispute. You are never alone; if you're not with one, you are certainly with the other. Whether this is rooted in their overprotective nature or the simple desire to be with you at all times (or possibly even both) will forever remain a mystery to you.
Jill is overwhelmingly possessive and never refrains from proving how easily she can claim you. Displaying her strength throughout the day, expressing the barriers she's overcome to save you, and bragging about the fights she's won. You would be fearful of her violent tangents if it weren't for the swirling adoration in her hazy, blue eyes.
There is no need to take that cutthroat, bad-cop exterior to heart, either. Not when the box hidden beneath the floorboards tells an entirely different story. Just don’t be surprised if your nail clippings and underwear suddenly vanish out of thin air.
Carlos has a warm heart reserved for you, but the organ is astonishingly jealous, as well. Constantly cooking myriads of dishes for you, cleaning every speck of dust to ever exist, being your teddy bear. You would be overwhelmed by his aggressive affections if it weren't for those tender hands soothing his baby of any restless sorrow.
There is no need to take that tenacious, puffy-eyed exterior to heart, either. Not when the journals hidden beneath the floorboards tell an entirely different story. Just don’t be surprised if you find pages covered with your name and proclamations of devotion, all written red with his fresh blood.
Life had been adorned in these matters for a while. Another month has tread by and all wounds, both physical and mental, have fortunately healed. As well as the poor kitchen island, which has now been revived with a sleek marble finish. You'll just choose to ignore how Carlos and Jill had locked you in the bedroom when the repairman spent several hours patching up the counter, ensuring he didn't wander off. If he found you, he'd surely want you for himself, the two are sure of it.
Instead, you swerve your attention toward how all conflicts have been reduced to minimal bickers. Though the jealous glares and backhanded comments will always remain, your days together have shifted toward much brighter circumstances.
With the presence of Spring lurking, the golden sun has escaped through the clouds and now engulfs the world in its warm hues. Your relentless suggestions of enjoying the pleasant weather had originally been brought to zero fruition. Especially with what occurred the last time you had left. Danger resides around every corner, they claimed. Outside these suffocating walls, you would be exposed to this. Even from something as little as nearly tripping over a protruding tree root, the thought made them both aghast.
However, when you look at them like that, they can feel their stern exterior crack beneath the harsh blows your adorable self delivers. And the look of surprised joy in your expression when they introduced the idea of enjoying a picnic by the private riverside erased any restriction either of them had.
The wicker basket sitting on a picnic blanket is full of numerous delicious treats, all crafted by Carlos' hands. With your fresh pair of expensive boots on (after Jill insisted on sitting you down and quadruple-knotting your shoelaces), the three of you are leaving the house at each other's sides. More so, Carlos is shoulder-to-shoulder with you and flinching at any feeble sound while Jill remains level-headed, soaking in your enthusiastic state of mind.
The wooden, decaying trail was adorned with unkempt debris, a considerable contrast to the pristine appearance of the house. With a hand around your waist, Jill guards you against the protruding nails and chunks of sharp wood threatening to bring you harm. The sight of several goosebumps littering your arm and Carlos strips his coat off and fastens it around your form. All as if you weren't wearing clothing thick enough to be considered armor. You're surprised he hadn't suffocated you with bubble wrap before you left.
Despite their suffocating and infantilizing treatment, you do not let them spoil this experience. For months, you have only ever seen this wondrous rainforest through a window. Now, being within the genuine physicality of it was nothing short of breathtaking.
Gentle rain patters against the healthy leaves; birds squawk and chitter throughout the trees. The thunderous sound of a heavy waterfall echoes throughout the expanse and has you mesmerized. And you cannot forget the fresh air invading your lungs and just how much you had longed for it.
The scent of rainwater and late-morning fog complement the state of serenity you're in, as well. You almost step directly into the adjacent river from how captivated you were by the beautiful sight. From behind you, Jill's voice pervades the peaceful atmosphere.
"Careful, baby. 'Don't want you gettin' wet. Rather it be in another wa- agh!" A rough grunt is pulled from Jill before she can complete her sentence. Abruptly, she is shoved to the forest floor.
Her well-being is entirely ignored by Carlos, who chooses to ensnare you in his protective hold instead. Letting your vision absorb what had occurred over your shoulder, you see a man dressed in a white-lab coat towering over her. When you see that familiar Umbrella symbol on his shoulder, you are ashamed to feel a sense of safety in their presence. They had provided you with the only place you were ever able to confidently call "home", after all.
When you attempt to wrangle from Carlos' suffocating hold, your efforts halt when he whips out a handgun and points the weapon at the assailant. Did he really bring that to our picnic?
A harsh kick to his crotch and the man above Jill keeled over, granting her the opportunity to spring to her feet and race to your aid. She then grabs hold of the handgun she brought, as well. Why on Earth did they both bring weapons!? 
Never one to hesitate, she flicks the safety off, juts her finger against the trigger, and a permeating bang! thunders against your eardrums. Before you can witness the aftermath induced by her bullet, Carlos' hand shields your eyes from the sight. A heavy set of numerous footsteps follow the silence left after the gunshot and strengthen the dreadful fear in your gut.
When they begin to hasten towards you alone, a flurry of gunshots echo.
Amid the chaos, an unseen force from behind yanks you out of the strong arms locked around your form. You splat harshly against the ground and the contact robs a groan of pain from your chest. Attempting to identify what was responsible for the sudden altercation, you find another stranger at your side who was dressed in the same white garb. The terror envelops you in its bitter embrace as you anticipate his next move.
Before he can even think of touching you, however, he is violently tackled to the ground by Carlos. Glancing past him, vomit threatens to escape from your stomach when you find several other men lying lifeless. Pools of blood mend with the soil and paint your shoes; the scent of iron and gunpowder make your nose twitch from the unwelcome pervasion.
"Put a fuckin' finger on them and I'll leave all of yours at your mother's doorstep!" It doesn't surprise you that Jill was responsible for this flare of savagery. Gun in one hand, pocket knife in the other, the blood of your assailants adorns her entire body as she continues to combat anyone standing in her way.
"How dare you put your fucking hands on them!? I'll spend eternity making sure you're rotting in Hell for what you’ve done!" Carlos did not differ from her state, either. Your attacker had already been presumed dead, but the man above him continues to surge his fists into the gorey expanse of his deformed face.
And much like the brawl between Jill and Carlos, you were left in a state of shock and unable to make any coherent actions.
All you do is sit at the stump of this tree and watch as the hysterical display folds out before you. The carnage satiating your senses is enough evidence that these two will conquer this battle. But as they claim more bodies, more heaps of men adorned with the same Umbrella patch follow.
Jill and Carlos quickly become overpowered by the sheer amount of violent people closing in on them. Through every punch, every slice, every gunshot, all advantages used to defend themselves are stolen from them. Several men now hold them compliant to the muddied ground as the two roar out curses and threats.
Another man soon joins the scene, verbally tutting at the impact left behind, before turning to you. And when you fully take in his features, your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.
Doctor Gorkis, or 'Matt', as he insisted you to call him stands by your feet.
He had aided you during the precarious descent into your new life within the sanctuary and remained your friend throughout the years. And if you were honest with yourself, you have always harbored a sort of childlike crush on him. The knight in shining armor; the prince who saves you from the evil dragon. The feelings you had for him were something along those lines. If Jill and Carlos knew this, they'd surely rip his head off, but that presumption was irrelevant right now.
Matt bends down to your level, the violent shouts of "don't you fucking touch them!" from behind him nothing but a mere passing car, a drifting thought.
"Hello, Y/N..." When you hear his voice, you finally comprehend how much you have yearned for your old life, for him. It is soft and euphonious, but still possesses a friendly shimmer that could melt even the coldest of hearts, you're sure of it.
Shifting your attention away from your old friend, you look to Jill and Carlos. They both struggle and shout beneath the weight of their attackers, more desperate than you have ever seen them before.
Poor Carlos is just sobbing. All his speech is sullied and incoherent, far too overwhelmed by the weight of his emotions. Shockingly, you see Jill weeping, as well. This is the first occurrence in which you have seen such acute emotion within her, within both of them.
A single night in heaven granted them six endless years of torture. Then, they were gifted six months of sheer bliss. To know that in the blink of an eye, this stranger could unsheathe a weapon and take your life right then and there, while all they can do is watch in horror — it destroys them.
Your gaze is soon forced back onto Matt. Albeit forcefully when he tilts his head into your train of vision, intense eyes peering into yours.
"A lot has changed since you were taken from us. Our organization has changed for the better and we have taken extra precautions to ensure our patients' safety. Your safety. You will be safe now. That is... If you'll come with me...?" His words confuse you.
"Butterfly, don't you dare listen to him! He's full of shit!" One on hand, you're convinced Jill and Carlos had saved you from a corrupt company.
"Sweet Bumblebee, you are the only reason I am alive! Don't listen to him...! Please, don't listen to him..." On the other hand, the familiarity of Matt's presence lulls you into complying.
"Those two don't care for you, not like me and all of your friends back home. If you come with me, you can see them again..." You don't know who to believe.
The fear paralyzing your body, despite how meager it was compared to everything else, is all the proof you need to decide what path you should venture on.
You cannot trust anyone, so you choose to trust yourself.
You were never meant to be in the restricting paradise of Umbrella's sanctuary; you were never meant to be locked away with your two corrupt lovers. Maybe you were always meant to be alone.
Using the tree for stability, you stand on your feet. Matt follows your movements, seemingly guarding you from the two feral dogs pinned to the forest floor.
With the ball in your court, all three of them hastily anticipate your answer.
A step away and your answer is clear. 
You choose no one.
And you choose to ignore how Jill and Carlos practically screech for you as you walk away from them. But, you couldn't choose to ignore Matt when he follows you in your path and closes the short distance between you two. He pulls out an anesthesia mask with his gloved hand and presses it to your face, ensnaring you in his arms.
As you are soothed into unconsciousness, he reassures you that everything will be alright. And if you choose to ignore the desperate shouts of your name fading out, you could almost believe him.
Tumblr media
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ LOST IN THE LABYRINTH
OF MY MIND . . . ❞
Tumblr media
bc i can't control myself, here are more visions of jill and carlos' house. here, here, here, here, here, and here.
gif credits :: jill & carlos.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
brownsugarwrites · 1 year
Text
☀︎ chicken salad sandwiches ☀︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings: dad!leon x mom!reader x dad!carlos
warnings/content: smut. porn with minimal plot , threesome (mmf) , milf chasin, dilf chasin, creampie, oral (both m & f receiving) , mentions of masturbation, cumplay (??) , carlos is a MUNCH , reader is kinda a shy slut (you'll see) , p in v (x2 hehhehe) , abundance of pet names. carlos is a goofball. both very sweet and kind lovers . slight pinning, squriting
word count: 2.9k (my word help me)
also the name will make sense just read!!! I am actually so nervous about this lol!!! I hope you all love it as much as I do
Tumblr media
Sighing you finished making the fruit salad before adding mint leaves to them. You were making snacks for your two hot neighbors working on a car.
You moved into the neighborhood recently and your neighbors across the way were nice to look at. You had a perfect view of their houses from yours where you could see them mowing the lawn early in the morning or leaving their house to get their kiddos to school
One of the neighbors, Carlos, actually came to introduce himself first to you. About a day after you moved in he came knocking. Opening up the door you smiled trying not to gawk at the man in front of the door
Introducing himself he shook your hand and held a slight conversation with you. Honestly, you weren't listening to shit he was saying. You were more focused on his big arms and chest and how he towered over you from being tall
“Well I hope to see you around neighbor,” he said winking at you before leaving your porch 
As for your neighbor Leon, you met him through Carlos. You stopped by his [carlos] house to bring him a slice of pound cake 
“Thanks, sunshine! oh and this is Leon he lives about 2 houses down from me with his boys” he said introducing you and wrapping an arm around you 
“It's nice to meet you, I would've brought another slice if I knew you were going to be here as well,” you said nervously 
“Oh, it's fine darling no need to worry. It's nice meeting you ” he says smiling down at you 
Quite frankly you wanted both of them but was that even possible? You could only imagine.
Your daughter was gone with your mom for the weekend so you didn't have anything to do but when you saw the two men working on one of Carlos's cars. It was a sight to look at, the two well-trained men with the compression shirts on highlighting their muscles with the sweat rolling down their faces 
You swear you felt a heartbeat in between your legs 
Being the good neighbor you were, you decided to make sandwiches and snacks to help cool them off. 
Grabbing your sun hat you pulled it over your braids before grabbing the two bottles of water and making your way across the street 
You began to grow slightly nervous. Were you seducing them with food right now? Shaking your head you made your way onto the driveway 
“Hi, boys! I saw you working and decided to bring some water to cool you two down” you said arms extending out 
“Ah thanks, sweetheart,” Carlos said taking the bottle away from you
As Leon gave you a simple nod he took his and began to drink the crisp water
You were stuck with the way they drank the water like it was their last day. The way their Adam’s apple bobbed with each sip they took had you going blank. Forgetting that you made food for them
“I also made some snacks!!!!” you said rather quickly
“Wait, slow down angel, and say it again,” Leon said wiping the sweat off his forehead
What was wrong with you? Why were all of a sudden going dumb from this? 
“I made sandwiches and a fruit salad. I left it in my house I didn't want it to get warm” you said before looking away “You can just come to my house when you’re hungry” 
Turning on your heels you walked away quickly 
“Dude she was checking me out just now,” Carlos said excitedly 
Leon just stared at his friend rolling his eyes 
“shes have been staring at you like that for months now idiot”
“I thought she was more interested in you” Carlos responded putting his hands up
they both had a teensey (huge) crush on you. You were so sweet and pliant towards them they couldnt help but yo fall for you
“let's just go get the food she made,” Leon said making his way to your house 
Hearing a knock on your door your feet scooted on the floor as you gave a soft “coming!”
“hi,” you said timidly before inviting the two men into your home and shuffling back into the kitchen
they both watched you as your sundress clung to your body as you moved through the house 
“yall could take a seat at the table” you offered as you went to the fridge to pull out the food
bending over to get the sandwiches from the fridge the two of them held back a grunt after looking at your ass
you had to be teasing them at this point. all Carlos could think about was the backshots he would give you while Leon on the other hand dreamed about how soft you were 
they were both knocked out of their thoughts by you placing the sandwich platter and fruit bowl down 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Leon said with a smile 
smiling back you went to go grab sodas and water for the two 
“so how is it? I tried something new with the chicken salad” you said nervously teetering on your feet 
“It's delicious sunshine thanks,” Carlos said with a mouthful of food 
your heart began to flutter. The pet names always made you giddy inside especially coming from them. You didn't miss the way they tend to flirt with you and the lingering stares. you were glad to know they found you attractive 
“wheres your little angel at?” Carlos asks
“oh she’s with her grandmother for the weekend,” you said grabbing a bag of chips to eat from. 
you scrolled through your phone mindlessly as the two finished their food until you felt a presence beside you “shit you scared me” you said giving a breathy nervous giggle. Feeling his warm hand on your chin your eyes widen slightly 
what the actual hell was he doing right now??!?! 
you were freaking out and you tried not to show it. meeting the pair of blue eyes the two of you smiled at each other 
“Let us thank you for the food sweetheart,” Leon said lowly in your ear 
Feeling your arousal pool in between your legs you sighed before opening your mouth 
“No need to thank me, guys…” you said before feeling someone behind you pressing kisses into your neck 
“Just relax love. Let us thank you for our meal by tasting our dessert”
“Carlos seriously?” Leon said while you giggled
It was corny but cute. All you could think about was being pressed between their two bodies both of their scent taking over all the judgment you had left. Going back to attack your neck you whimpered as you felt Leon kiss you gently 
His hand came to your cheek you felt his thumb smooth over it as he pulled you off of his lips. Your lips were slightly swollen and in a slight pout as a little bit of saliva dribbled down your chin 
“So fucking pretty” was all you heard as you felt him caress your face and Carlos clutching your waist continuing to kiss your neck 
Oh, shit was this really happening right now??? Did your plan to seduce them with the chicken salad sandwiches work?
“Tell us you want this sweetheart. We want you to be comfortable” Carlos whispered 
Oh fuck here it was shivers went down your spine in nervousness. Of course, you wanted this but they were making it hard for you to answer 
“Need to hear your answer, pretty girl,” Leon said along the shell of your ear
Your mind went hazy with lust. You were done for truly all you needed to do was for them to take the reigns. The ache in between the legs was growing stronger you needed them both now 
“Yeah, just need the two of you” you would whisper meekly before whimpering at the sensation of Carlos's fingers reaching under your dress to rub his finger over your wet pussy. 
Oh, this was nice feeling the teasing kisses and the toying of your clothed pussy. 
“L-lets go upstairs” you moaned out 
Feeling yourself getting scooped up you guided the men to the room
placing you on the bed gently you quickly moved onto your knees with your hands in your lap. you looked up at the two men standing in front of you. you felt yourself dripping even more at just the mere sight of them. 
it was Carlos’s turn to kiss you deeply as he teasingly played with your nipples through your dress. you reached over to play with Leon's boner through his pants before unbuckling and pulling them down with his assistance  
Leon was absolutely struck by the one-handed movement you pulled on him while you were still kissing Carlos. Leon quickly pulled down his underwear as his hardening cock popped out of his pants. you gave it a few squeezes before you started to stroke his dick.
you felt like you were in a cheap porno scene starring you as the milf next door fucking her two neighbors 
finally pulling you away from his lips you continued to stroke Leon's dick as began to palm Carlos through his pants. 
Leon's precum dripped down your hand as you started to stroke him faster hearing his moans and groans. you scooched over to take his length into your mouth your hand still never left Carlos’s dick and you tugged on the pants to signal him to take them off
the view of you lightly gagging on Leon’s dick and still being able to manage to jerk Carlos off had them both ready to cum 
who knew you were this much of a slut under that innocent persona 
“shit sweetheart keep doing that” Leon moaned as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He wanted to cum in your mouth so bad just by the way you looked at him 
“I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that” he groaned 
you moved a hand down to his balls and started to fondle them gently as you felt him buck into your mouth. quickly pulling out of your hot mouth he released his seed onto your chest 
you sat there with a small smile on your face pulling Carlos in front of you to do the same. he didn't last very long though. One look into your pretty eyes had him accidentally cumming into your mouth. you let your spit mixed with his cum dribble down your chin. both of their eyes went wide at the action.
you had no idea what you were doing to them 
“What a messy girl you are let's see what's under this dress” was all Leon could say before slipping your dress over your head 
the air from your cool room hit your hard nipples causing you to shiver as your legs squeezed together 
“no bra or panties angel? if I known better I would've thought you planned for us to fuck you” Carlos said caressing your face
well…he wasn't lying
Leon moved so that his back was flat against the headboard.  you crawled towards him to seat yourself in between his legs and Carlos quickly hooked his arms over your plush thighs 
Carlos was in heaven between your legs giving you quick kitten licks. He dreamed about this moment. Whenever he saw your thighs trying to peek out your outfits his mind would go blank wondering how good you tasted down there 
Flattening his tongue on your sweet pussy your back arched feeling the sensation on your body it didn't help that Leon was playing with your nipples as well. Leon attacked your neck as he played with them and listened to the whimpers that were escaping you. 
Carlos placed sweet kisses on your thighs before coming back up to suck on your clit. Your pretty moans could be heard throughout the room and your hand went into his hair. Feeling yourself clench you told them that you were close to cumming. Releasing a loud shriek you came all over Carlos’s face legs shaking from the shock. Coming to your face he gave you another kiss as you felt some of your wetness on his beard. 
“You ready sunshine?” he asked replacing Leon’s spot on the bed and bringing you onto his lap him lining himself up at your entrance 
You couldn't lie to yourself. He was thick and kinda long. You hope he didn't break you before Leon could have his way with you.
You quickly got a hold of his dick and sat on it. Hissing as he stretched your poor pussy out 
“Shit- oh my word” you moaned out 
“You can take it all cant you sunshine? I know you can do it” he praised you feeling you clench down on him from his words 
Releasing a sigh when you felt yourself reach the base of his dick you pressed your manicured hands on his chest before bouncing up and down on him as your face twisted in pleasure as Carlos took one of your breasts in his mouth sucking and teasing your nipple with his teeth
Releasing it with a pop he moved your braid out the way before saying “Come on, let me see that pretty face while you ride me” He groaned before grabbing a chunk of your ass teasingly 
Hearing another set of moans out of your peripheral you could hear Leon stroking himself to Carlos fucking you almost stupid. Your whines became louder as you continued to bounce on Carlos. He soon took over by wrapping his big arms around you and started to bounce you himself.
Strings of curse words fell out of both of your mouths at the pleasure. You didn't even give Carlos a warning you were about to cum until you felt the pleasure rush through you rather quickly as you felt him shoot thick ropes inside of you 
Leaning on his chest you took the moment to catch your breath. 
“That was so hot,” he said before kissing your forehead. Taking you off his lap he watched as the cum mixture spilled out of you and groaned at the sight
Sitting up you saw Leon bringing a bottle of water close to your lips.
“How sweet,” you thought allowing yourself to drink the cold water
“Can't have you passing out on me” he joked 
Asking if you were ready to begin you gave him the green light. Laying you back on the bed he moved a stray braid before kissing you gently and pushing into you.
While Carlos was mostly thick Leon was longer than him and he had a little curve to him. 
Your nails pressed into his back as he bottomed out into you 
“Need you to move baby please” you whined
Obeying your wishes he started to move in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. Becoming frustrated at his action (well lack thereof) you told him to go faster. He didn't but he pulled out of you and slammed back into you feeling your nails dig into his back. Repeating the same action your mind went completely blank from the stimulation. 
“Open those eyes pretty girl let me see them,” he said in your ear sweetly as he kept fucking you into the mattress. 
In a feeble attempt of opening your eyes, he smiled sweetly 
“There she is, there's my pretty angel” 
If you weren't gonna die by them fucking you you were definitely dead from the praise. 
Rubbing your puffy clit you made the cutest little squeak from the stimulation.
Laughing lowly he thought the noises you made were cute. Feeling you clamp down on him he knew you were close 
“Babe- feels like I gotta pee slow down” you would beg 
He smirked to himself knowing what was coming next.
“S-slow down leon- oh shit!” you moaned out spraying your juices all over his abs 
Did you just fucking squirt??? you were seeing stars at this point. These men were doing things to your body you didn't even know you could do. 
Fucking you faster your eyes teared up from the overstimulation
“I know baby dont cry I'm almost there,” he said kissing the tears on your water line. 
Nearly cumming again for the fourth time that afternoon you moaned feeling Leon’s cum spill inside of you. Closing your eyes you caught your breath again. Your throat was raw, pussy was swollen, and plenty of hickies decorated your skin as you laid like a doll 
“Hey, sweetheart. Let me clean you up come on” you heard one of their voices 
Feeling the warm rag clean between your legs you hummed in approval 
“Feels good?” Carlos asked laughing a little 
Weakly nodding your head you managed to sit up asking him to take you to the bathroom. Coming over with another warm towel you felt him cleaning your face so gently making sure to follow with kisses 
“Thanks love,” you said smiling 
His heart fluttered at your sleepy state. You were really cute like this. Hearing footsteps come closer to you Leon pulled a shirt over your head. Giving him a thank you as well you managed to get off the toilet to wash your hands and get back to the bed 
The two men looked at each other. They both wanted to stay here with you but still wanted to respect your boundaries 
“Need anything else sunshine?” Carlos asked putting his shirt back on 
“Come lay with me for a little while” you offered 
The two got on each side of you and you sighed in bliss. This was your idea heaven 
“I dont think its fair you squirted for Leon and not me sunshine” Carlos joked
“Dont be jealous Oliveria,” Leon said smirking 
“Hey dont start bickering I’m trying to sleep,” you said meekly 
Glaring at each other you gave them a kiss before drifting off to sleep
This was all thanks to those chicken salad sandwiches
--------------------------------------------------------
tags!: @makeacryfoundation @kxlnow @theirkenfiles @pvpsi @tosuckmyweenis @s0nia246 @fatalenvoy @thesilverbeats @geekgirlofarchangels @rubygade @mantiddysimp007 @mothcelestial @cosmcqt @d4rlingang3l @m-rayne @billysfavoriteboy @ashwasherelol @gremlingottoosilly @gavinshorns @jond63 @bloosinthere @sukunasgff @deepestballoonllama-fandoms @haitanislilangel @its-too-cold-in-maine @hongsxn @47kay1 @bl00dr3gin @ayaseelidesu-blog @bbunnygirl @furiousloverlight @bloodycorpseboy @ytp0 @suchaslutforjack @ballorawan740 @itty-bitty-baby-face @refiwrites @mingitrash @a-mouldy-sock @pey-hey555 @-darlinglover- @phantomly27 @twilg
2K notes · View notes