Note: Just finished first half of season five and wanted to write more for our eldritch pookie. Reader is also bespectacled. Could be read as a sequel to this.
Imagine meeting Mr. Whatsit and accidentally breaking his glasses by sitting down on his face too hard.Â
The glass couldâve gotten embedded in your backside, Mr. Whatsit admonished. You muttered an apology.
âGood thing you have thick jeans,â he replied, patting said denim-clad backside with both hands.
His girlfriend was straddling his midriff, while throwing embarrassed glances over her shoulder. Best view heâd had in a long time. Over a year. If heâd been capable of mustering any anger towards you, your pout wouldâve completely dissipated it. It wasnât like he actually needed glasses. They were just part of his disguise. To make him appear nonthreatening. It was an added bonus you seemed to like his eyewear.
Besides, he could just ask where you got yours. He smiled at the thought of you helping him try on different frames. A date at the optometristâs. Too bad one couldnât help him with his second sight, which seemed off today. His other five senses were working perfectly. It was his sixth sense that needed checking.
While he was pondering why your mind was closed off, you were thanking God youâd taken the keys out of your back pocket. Otherwise you mightâve bruised Henryâs pretty face.Â
From accidentally plopping your entire ass on it.
Rushing into sex hadnât been your plan. Not this time. Henryâd gotten dressed up. Like a date. A proper date. Not just a two person âgang bangâ where heâd allowed your eager holes to get acquainted with his tentacles. Switching it up. Pumping in tandem in your pussy. Near one climax, youâd gotten so wet Vecna had been able to slip his cock between two pistoning flesh-vines. That was the only time youâd shown any reluctance. And heâd withdrawn his auxiliary phalluses before fully entering you vaginally. Â
You wondered how heâd managed PIV, with a seemingly Ken doll physique. Then shook your head. Youâd been transported back and forth between dimensions. What was a little penile sheath between boy- and girlfriend?
Still lying casually supine on the bed, Mr. Whatsit tilted his hat back.Â
Is this another illusion?
Each time you had sex had been a dream. Not just because you loved it, his tentacles and promises of letting other monstrous appendagesâother monstersâ appendagesâtongues, more tentacles, intermittent organs, and any combo of the threeâin your orifices. Your lover hadnât stepped foot out of the Upside Down.
Henry isnât much of a monster, is he? Just looks like one. Not now, though.
Kind eyes, obscured by cracked lenses, and a cushiony smile.
Meanwhile, Henry was internally debating whether or not to ask you to turn around. God, he missed your breasts. They were perfect for him. The only way they could be better was to add a bit more softness, make them sag with milk.Â
But he already had a bunch of other children to mind at the moment. Besides, maybe youâd prefer oviposition. You were pretty kinky. Heâd love altering your biology to fulfill your joint desires.Â
Joint.Â
Vecna pursed his lips. For some reason, your mind wasnât as open to him as it once was. But you were more than interested in oral, obviously.Â
He hadnât been given a proper blowjob, but you had fellated a tentacle. Deepthroated it, even. And thanked him for suppressing your gag reflex. All while taking in more appendages below the waist. It was only fair he ate you out.
âOkay,â Henry said, transferring his glasses to a pocket. Itâd been a miracle yours hadnât clacked together when Mr. Whatsit had unexpectedly appeared and swooped in for a kiss.
Then I had to go and treat his head like a couch cushion at the end of a long day.
âIâll brace my hands on your thighs so you can bear down gently. Then we can switch positions afterwards. If you want.â
He smiled again as your grin lit up your whole face.
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just read a post about riding a subâs face and making them edge themselves. now iâm thinking about getting off using their tongue and hearing them moan against your pussy until you feel them tensing up to cum. and you grab their wrist and force them to stop. and you sit on their face and lightly suffocate them until they come back from the edge. and then you start again. and over and over until theyâre crying from the need to cum
and then making them cum so hard they see stars
cause after iâm done with them we can curl up on the couch together while they recover. and i can have water for them and snacks. and then i can make them softly eat my pussy once theyâre somewhat lucid again, to keep them soft and pliant for me
and i think i just need to remember that sometimes
Reminder that you should regularly ride your sub's handsome face because when they have that fucked out, oxygen-deprived, wide-eyed look in their eyes and every centimeter of their face is glistening and wet... they're just even more handsome.
Not to mention that you really ought to help them with their skincare, eh?
could you do like a chad kaplan nsfw imagine from the first resident evil movie ? thanks !
Note: Takes place at end of first movie. Warning, seems like happy-to-be-alive sex at first then gets much darker. Contains body horror.
Imagine Kaplan licking you after you save him from the Licker.
If you hadnât known any better, you would have assumed the injection had contained an aphrodisiac. Because why else would Kaplan be so ravenous for your approval?Â
Heâs just so relieved to be alive.Â
Even with beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, his skin was nowhere as soaked as your panties, which were now hanging out casually betwixt your knees. Bent over, you could feel his perspiring brow rest on your ass. He signed blissfully, before pressing his sweaty palms against your buttocks, giving them a handful of squeezes each.Â
Then he got back to work. Two thumbs parted your labia, his tongue plunging into your gap instead of lapping at your clit. You thought about diddling yourself. Then decided against it, not wanting to reach ecstasy quite yet.Â
Alice was the one who jabbed him with the antivirus, you remembered, as Kaplan ate your pussy from the back. Your hands braced against glass. Thank God it was reinforced. The adrenaline had left your body, when you realized you were safe(r). Now it came roaring back in excitement at the soldierâs wet applications to your snatch. He should be thanking her.Â
Where is she, anyway? With Matt?
Shoveling your essence into his beyond eager mouth, his tongue then extended further than expected.
Chad Kaplan hadnât done anything so juvenile as lick his lips at the sight of you. Even though heâd been very, very interested since your introduction. He was a professional. Itâd been an emergency. So you were pleasantly surprised you both shared Gorlinâs sign. Not that he wouldâve guessed it, seeing as you both had been modest up until when heâd taken your face in his hands, kissed your forehead, and directly asked if he could perform cunnilingus.Â
It was odd hearing someone who, to your knowledge, was normally so composedâeven in a life or death situationâjust lose himself completely.Â
Kaplanâs (para)military, though. Or was. For an unethical pharmaceutical company. An onslaught of monsters and mutated people couldnât shake him.Â
An IT guy, you concluded, has to remain calm in emergencies.Â
Just as you were pondering whether to grab his hair and throw yourself backwards on his face, he stopped. Neither of you spoke. Donât be shy now, C.K. Then he licked your thigh. Tongue feeling wider than it had inside you. You chalked that up to the fact heâd been trying to stick it up there as deep as possible. (Make out with my cervix lol, ew.) It was pressed flat. Savoring you.Â
A split second later you peeked down and spotted a bandaid on your left cheek.Â
Oh yeah, I was injected, too.Â
At some point.Â
It was hard to keep track of everything that had happened since the train ride, your mind fuzzy with lust as it was.Â
Your lover continued tentatively licking your thigh, like he was struggling to decide his next move. Frowning in confusion, but not reluctance, you noted his appendage was actually coiling around your leg. How freaking long is it? you thought, amazed as he dipped into your underwear. Comparing your initial discharge to the stuff he was getting straight from the source. Then he pulled your panties straight down your calves and dove in again.Â
You almost yelped when he finally made you sit on his face. Tongue continuously writhing inside. Putting your faith in his uncanny strength, you lifted one hand from the window to cover your mouth. When you removed it, strands of drool connected your lips and fingers. Probably how Kaplanâs fingers would look if his mouth wasnât engulfing your gash. The idea of getting digitally fucked made you shudder. Not quite in pleasure. His nails were really digging into your hips. Â
Am I high?Â
You were basically using him as a stool. He was sturdy. Still, you figured it was only polite to bend forward, so as not to cut off his air supply. Though something told you heâd hold his breath ad hoc. It was like heâd been born for this. To become a licker.
Licker. That word brought back a memory.
âWell,â a man in a white lab coat explained, âyou owe us a Licker. With interest.âÂ
You tried to protest, but it was hard to be taken seriously restrained as you were, in stirrups and cuffs. Zero modesty. The staff seemed equally split between ignoring you and openly leering at your spread privates. And the cold, sterile room left your nipples ever hard. You couldnât so much as shift an elbow to conceal them.Â
At one point another doctor (?) sauntered in and cupped your vulva without warning. When he placed a thumb on your perineum, you begged him to remove it. Wary of his intentions. Nobody had done anything to really hurt (read bruise) you yet. Aside from the IV. No telling what was in it.Â
You were hushed, told âyouâre not getting penetrated so get your mind out of the gutter.â Then you noticed the syringe.Â
ââNo penetrationâ?!â
âNo digital penetration,â he drawled. âFor now.â
Umbrella Corp only hired personnel that, if not ignorant, lacked ethics. Even when it came to obstetrics. Â
Eyes wide, you saw what lay beyond the glass. Your rendezvous with Chad Kaplan wasnât as consensual as youâd thought it was. He honestly liked you, though you believed he wouldnât be doing this in front of an audience if he had a choice. In fact, if everything went according to plan, you figured, the former computer whiz would be too territorial toâŠ
What? Let others around his nest? His mate?
Lickers didnât generally attack each other, unless they were fighting over prey. Which you were, in a way. Though there wasnât enough research into their mating habits.Â
Hence why Iâm here, you shuddered as Kaplan ground his nose into your taint. Another memory from your last encounter with an Umbrella employee flitted in.
âWelcome to the Licker Breeding Program.â Â
Kaplan, of course, was no longer an employee. He was a test subject. Like you.Â
Your juices were getting everywhere. Before his tongue finally withdrew, fast as a tape measure. You tried to settle your feet flat on the floor again, hands once again braced against the window. Like you were about to be subjected to a pat down. Kaplan paused again. Why, you didnât know. Â
It staved off an orgasm, though. Gave you time to ponder Alice and Mattâs location. With a sinking heart, you remembered Matt had been carted off to the Nemesis Program. Whether that was part of Umbrellaâs propagation efforts, you couldnât say. Probably something in âdefense.â Hopefully he was in a far off lab. And ignorant of your degradation.Â
An image of an amnesiac girl being unknowingly mounted by a mutated Matt popped into your head. This infernal corporation wanted your memories intact while you were being bred. Even if they initially had to sedate you. You couldnât say the same for Alice, a skilled combatant. Even more reason to make her birth supersoldiers.Â
Vaguely aware of Kaplanâs heavy breath, you actually rested your cheek against the window. Uncaring if it left a smudge. You reached down to pat his head. Then stopped when your fingers grazed his forehead. Unblinking, you slowly met his gaze. Kaplanâs forehead had begun to split.Â
No visible brain matter yet, but solid claws jutted out of where his fingernails shouldâve lain flat. Blood beaded on your scratchmarks. It was a testament to his remaining humanity that your hip flesh hadnât been sliced to ribbons.Â
You could readily imagine what heâd look like once the mutation was complete. Imagined him sniffing at his moulted skin, then quickly losing interest. Because he was already past any courtship rituals. Already well-acquainted with this mate. Who could be sedated if she wasnât âin the mood.â
You frowned at the scientist who stood condescendingly on the other side of the glass. As your head cleared, you started to formulate revenge fantasies. If only you could interrogate him for a few minutes!Â
âBe thankful we found your DNA best for being an incubator, not a monster.âÂ
Note: âyandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?â Not set in a yandere âverse. Reader (and Carlos) are just aware of anime terminology lol. Also contains appreciation of Carlosâs ass. Might do a part two where reader eats it. (Iâve written about dudes getting Fâd in the A. This was the logical conclusion.) After I write the possessed Father Karras request, which will not feature sodomy lol.
Thank God for âKeep reading,â because somehow this got to 8.2k words.
Imagine falling for Carlos, even after finding out heâs dangerously obsessed with you.Â
âHey! Fuckface!â
Later that night, after your tryst, after Carlos retroactively decided itâd been love at first sight, you decided against joking that thatâd been directed at you. âFuckfaceâ could be an apt nickname. You just didnât want him to think of your face as his personal fleshlight. Or cushion. The idea of being used that way sent such an intense jolt of pleasure down past your waist, you almost wished you could have met him under different circumstances.Â
Of course, he still would have turned out to be a yandere, apocalypse or not.
If youâd somehow escaped before a proper introduction, Carlos told himself, he wouldâve trailed after you like Nemesis after Jill. Knocked down walls. But you were together for the foreseeable future.
(The, -seeable, and future would soon be dropped in Carlosâs mind in favor of -ever.)Â
After hitting Nemesis with the rocket launcher, the mercenaryâs eyes met yours. You clearly knew you werenât the target. You were just trying to help your⊠What was that woman to you? A roommate? Friend? God, he hoped she was just a friend. You forced a gracious smile, indicated Jill with your chin, and got to your feet.
How were you not even singed? Well, he could check your skin for burns later. Right then you wanted him to help her.Â
âNameâs Carlos and Iâm saving you!âÂ
He had an easygoing way about him, even in an emergency. When, later, it became clear there was a siphoning darkness in his heart, Carlos was still charm personified.Â
The two of you supported Jill until all three of you were underground. It was hard to carry on a convo when everyone was trying not to stumble on the subwayâs endless steps, Carlos carrying a rifle while you both helped Jill descend. Â
âWeâve been bringing survivors here.âÂ
Jill finally caught her breath and stood unsupported. ââHereâ where?âÂ
âMy guys have converted some subway cars into a shelter,â he answered, checking to make sure nothing came down the stairs. He nodded at you and Jill, but made to put his arm around her shoulder again. Â
âIâm fine.â
âPersonal space. OK. I get it. Letâs go.â It came out jovial enough. Carlos didnât want Jill to think he was hitting on her. Somehow he hadnât been able to âaccidentallyâ brush his hand against yours when assisting her, though. If she was a romantic rival, maybe it wouldâve been better to let that behemoth take her. Sure, Carlosâs cute new crush wouldâve been traumatized. But with Raccoon City burning and infested with the hungry dead, well, heâd love to be the shoulder you cried on.
âI donât have any personal space,â you joked. It just slipped out. The rocket launcher may not have been enough to take down that thing. The mood drastically needed lightening. You wanted to make a joke about Nemesisâs feet being too big for the steps; heâd have to roll down.Â
That phrase was all Carlos needed to hear. He tapped your forearm and you smiled at him a second time. Smiled for him.Â
âLetâs go.â
Before obeying, you spotted the vending machine. Carlos shouted at you to be careful while you gingerly moved your hand past the broken glass.Â
Out of reflex, you took his. Tight as a vise. It didnât bother him.Â
âUm, sorry, Carlos. Iâm just⊠Itâs just really scary out there. I thought you might need to replenish your energy.â
You loosened your grip and he squeezed your hand reassuringly, thanking you.Â
Jill questioned Carlos on that monster. Thatâs what she called it. âThat monster.â No one knew what it was called yet. Personally, he made you think of a troll or some other humanoid from folklore. Probably didnât calcify in the sunlight, though. Then you remembered the tentacles. How could you forget? Those were scary as fuck. Why were they even there?
â...itâs no zombie, it knows what it wants and wonât stop till it gets it. Donât you like that in a man?â
âNormally,â you said to Carlos, sharing a smile behind his back. âThatâs not Jillâs type, though.â
âHeâs all yours,â she added, also directed at Carlos.Â
______ liked the persistent type. Great. And if heâd looked over his shoulder, he would have caught you shamelessly checking out his backside.Â
âLook, I promise youâre in good hands. Iâm with the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. U.B.C.S. for short.â
Uh oh, you thought, a split second before fantasizing that Umbrella Corps gave butt plugs with their logo to their top employees. Any chance of Jill being taken in by this smooth talker was nil. Not that you felt deterred.Â
âAre you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! You guys are the ones who caused all this!â
Carlos woahâd four times. âWhat are you talking about? You donât have to trust me, but weâre going to the shelter.â He opened the door to the subwayâs station. âYou cominâ?â
Replaying that exchange in your mind later, you realized that if Jill had been outwardly angrier, she could have been a dead woman. Despite her tone, Jillâs body language hadnât changed as she descended that penultimate flight of stairs. S.T.A.R.S. agent or not, Carlos only saw her as useful in the sense you liked her. Platonically. How would he have excused his actions to his fellow U.B.C.S. soldiers?
Following him to the train car, you let Jill hang back a moment. Something felt off. Maybe it was the creepy posters. Normally youâd be all over a Skull Stalker double feature. Trying to keep your friend safe from a real stalker quelled that desire.Â
âHey, Captain. ______ and this fine young lady could use our help.â
The peculiar introduction didnât escape your notice. Mikhail, as he was about to introduce himself, nodded at you before admonishing his underling for not asking Jill her name. Turns out the captain knew of Officer Valentine. Carlosâs proximity also didnât escape your notice. Despite the fact you were a civilian, neither he nor Mikhail expected you to join the others. You listened to the rest of the conversation on your feet. The other three were sitting down, or in Carlosâs case kneeling.Â
Probably practicing proposing, you mused, unaware how not far off the mark you were. Â
â...hey, itâs cool, we all want the same thing,â he said, dragging you out of your thoughts with a glance. âAlright, supercop,â he addressed Jill. âHere you go. We can use this to stay in contact.â
âI know what a radio is.â
And so Jill returned to the surface. Concluding the prologue of your romance with Carlos Oliveira.Â
With him and Mikhail on standby, you thought it might be rude to talk. Carlos quickly dissuaded you of that notion. He wanted to know how long youâd been in Raccoon City. You grow up here? Any hobbies?Â
To hypothetical outside observers, it was harmless flirting. To Carlos, a courtship ritual. Too bad there was no time for a background check. Not that anything he couldâve found, even your kinky Tumblr or AO3, would be shameful in Carlosâs eyes. Later, youâd wonder why on Earth Mikhail let you go with Carlos to clear the tracks. Did he suspect something? Know something? Or did he just get a hunch separating you two was a bad idea?Â
Alone together. If he hadnât been trained for emergencies, Carlosâs would have quickly drifted away from Jill Valentine. You kept glancing at the time, which wouldâve bothered him if you werenât also freely answering his queries. Asking some of your own, even. And he of course remembered to periodically check in on your friend.Â
âJill, itâs me again. You topside yet?â
âWorking on it. So whatâs the plan?â
âThe old tankâs got me clearing the tracks. _____âs here, too.â
You hummed affirmatively. Not wanting to butt in as she and Carlos coordinated getting the power back.Â
âToo bad Jill doesnât have any tactical gear,â you said, starting to feel a little warm despite the setting. You didnât want Carlos to think that you thought he was selfish for keeping his vest. Mikhail hadnât asked his subordinate to hand over anything else. Or offered anything himself. Everyone could count on Jill. âThen again,â you continued, âsheâs gone this far in life kicking ass in a tank top.â
Carlos chuckled.Â
âI still have those, uh, snacks from the vending machine. In case youâre hungry.â
If he hadnât told you to stay behind him on the railway, you mayâve caught the hunger in his eyes. The way you patted your pants pockets was cute.Â
âThank you, ______, but Iâm fine for now.âÂ
âYouâre fine all the time.â
His heart beat just a fraction faster. If it wasnât enough you wanted to feed himâŠ! Junk food, but still. (There were other ways you could sate him, which could wait.) You were responding to his advances!Â
Jill called again. While they figured out how she could go to the substation, you realized you still felt glum. Sure, Jill was in S.T.A.R.S. And Umbrella employees were actually being helpful! But-
An abrupt âfuck youâ from the other line. That nabbed your wandering attention.
âWhy is she fucking-â You couldâve blushed. Who knew when, if ever, youâd get around to that with Carlos? âWhy is she âfuck youâ-ing?âÂ
For a split second he pondered whether it would be a good idea to tell you. Then mentally shrugged. Carlos couldnât afford to have you think he was sneaky. All relationships needed honesty from the get-go. Lies of omission, you figured out later, apparently didnât count.Â
âSheâs near the substationâŠâ âYeah?â â...but itâs through a burning alley.â âDamn, is she okay?â
âSo farâŠâ he trailed off. Sensing your low spirits, Carlos placed a hand on your shoulder. If you hadnât anticipated his care, you would have tensed. Luckily, you didnât.Â
âJill âfuck youâ-ed me because I said, âSurely a tall drink of water like yourself can put out a few flames.â I wasnât flirting with her, though.â
You bit your lip. Then started laughing. Hard. Carlosâs chuckle was eclipsed by your peals.Â
âI know,â you managed, sputtering. Carlos smiled, both hands rested on your shoulders. When his fingers dug into your clavicle, you winced. âOh no.â
âSorry,â he said, easing up a little. Without releasing your collarbone. âHey, I meant to ask earlier⊠Did you get singed? From the flamethrower.âÂ
âOh no,â you repeated, this time as a lie. Not wanting him to feel bad. He saved Jillâs life, after all. Probably yours, too. Nemesisâs indifference didnât guarantee your safety from other zombies. If Jillâd been taken out, you wouldâve been screwed.Â
The shirtâs fabric wasnât thick enough to shield you from thermal burns. Although minor, they couldâve used some petroleum jelly. Just as you were about to ask if Mikhail had Vaseline or something, you found yourself giggling again. Thinking about that fictitious Umbrella employee anal toy. Â
âWhatâs so funny?â
âOh, I was just thinking-â You werenât really, so you just blurted out a random thought from earlier. âWhatâs with the tentacles?â
âTentacles?â
âJillâs⊠pursuer.â
âWell, heâs persistent. Which you like.â Carlos lifted a finger to point at face and you pretended to bite. Nice. âTall. You like tall guys?â
âEh, not that tall. Makes kissing without a ladder difficult. Not a bad looking lad, though, our nemesis.â
âOh, kiss his ass, why donât you?â Carlos teased.
âCanât. Need a ladder.â Â
âWell,â he said, hands finally sliding off your shoulders, âyou donât need one to kiss mine.âÂ
âEh, maybe later.â You waved a hand over the train tracks. Thinking he just liked being complimented. âWhen weâre done with this.â
âSo, tentaclesâŠâ Carlos circled back to your improvised answer.Â
Looking back, with Carlosâs (at least rudimentary) knowledge of tentacle porn, you wondered what other anime terminology he knew. Yandere probably wasnât in Jill or Mikhailâs vocab. Maybe Carlos was a self-aware one. You werenât sure if he knew what the proper term for what he was was. Even if he got the concept. And you werenât going to ask.Â
On the tracks, it was only beginning to dawn just how into you Carlos was. Sure, he seemed prone to casual flirtation and banter. Even Jill wasnât entirely safe from it.
âCarlos, itâs Jill. Iâve restored power to the subway.â
âNice going!â praised Carlos. You suddenly felt out of place again. There wasnât much more you could do to help. âNext up is the traffic control system. It should be in the subway companyâs offices.â
âRight, I think I know the building.âÂ
âWay to go, partner. One step ahead.â
âNot your partner.â
Jill was on a mission, so you couldnât fault her for being abrupt. Even with a hot guy trying to gauge how freaky you were, you remembered how fucked the situation was. Zombie-swarmed Raccoon City was the last place you needed to be. Well, at least I met my next boyfriend, you soothed, widening your eyes and grinning as Carlos set his hand on your shoulder again, meaning to guide you back to the subway station. Then the pain set in.
You pulled away from his touch.Â
Being a fan of the âpersistent typeâ didnât mean you were ignorant of the common drawbacks of yandere love interests. Your personal fave was the kind who just wanted to insert themselves into their obsessionâs life. Sure, the glamor cracked now and then. But the subtype seemed normal 90% of the time. Â
âTake your shirt off.â
âWhat?â
Carlosâs hand hung in midair for a few more seconds, before dropping to his side.
âYouâre hurt,â he stated. âI hurt you.âÂ
âWe canât do anything about it now. And itâs not that bad.â
âI need to assess the damage.âÂ
âThereâs no damage! Itâll heal. In time.â
âCome on, let me see,â he soothed, raising his hands, not in defense, but to âhelp.â âItâs the least I can do.â
He just wants to see me naked, you thought, before turning away and obeying. But you werenât taking it off fast enough.
âYouâre not like Jill. You donât have to pretend to be badass.âÂ
You didnât know me well enough to make that observation aloud. Even if itâs true.Â
âAnd you are?â
âOf course,â he replied, pulling your top over your head and draping it over a bicep. Leaving you feeling more exposed than you looked. At least he couldnât see your expression. His tone softened. âYou need someone to look out for you.â
A quick glance showed you Carlosâs fingers hovering over your injuries.Â
âI really wish I had some Vaseline or Aquaphor,â you admitted, staring straight ahead. It wasnât like the burns had been treated, properly or at all. Ice packs were luxury items right now. Maybe one of the civilians on the train had the chance to grab a first aid kit.Â
âMe too.â
Suddenly Carlos was in front of you. He lifted your shirt off his bulging arm. Not before burying his nose in the fabric, though. Eyes widening for a second, you realized he wasnât just casually flirting. Carlos Oliveira wanted to fuck on Raccoon City transit.Â
Slipping the sniffed shirt over your head was the only option. For some reason your heart was racing too quickly to think of an excuse to return to the train car topless. Mikhail might not like his subordinate getting up to hank-panky during a public emergency.Â
âHey, Jillâs not the kind of âstarâ youâre interested in, right?â
âHuh-? Oh.â
He gestured to his backside. Then his hands, so starved for your own skin, pressed against the seat of his pants. It was hard to tell through fatigues, but you could have sworn he was, well, going commando. And you were almost correct, as youâd soon find out. If heâd lowered his pants just then, an impatient asshole would have been on display. His index finger aimed at it.Â
âNo,â you quickly added, smiling despite trying hard not to. âSheâs, uh, not my type.â
Correction, Carlos wanted you to fingerfuck him on Raccoon City transit.Â
And more, he wouldâve added if he read minds.  Â
Okay, so itâs like a âPeasantâs Wise Daughterâ deal, you thought, staring at Carlosâs jockstrap from the back. Definitely inappropriate per United States Armed Forces regulations. But(t) perfect for Umbrellaâs militia, you figured. Of course, you werenât going to ask about his coworkersâ undergarments.Â
âCarlos, ______, that thing is still alive! Itâs after me!â
Pants pulled up again in a split second. Nobody wouldâve guessed heâd just mooned you.
Jill sounded rightfully frantic. For once. You werenât yet bosom buddies, but you knew her well enough to understand how dire the situation must be for her to lose her cool like that. In front of someone like Carlos.Â
âStay-â
âJill, you have to come back down here! Now!â you cut him off. Stay calm. Carlos was going to say âstay calm.âÂ
She shouted that she needed to get traffic control online. You were barely aware of your surroundings while Carlos led you back to the station. At one point you realized you were holding hands.Â
Your heart didnât flutter at that. It was racing too hard at the possibility of losing Jill. Not that you wanted to tell him that.
He refused to let go of your hand even when Mikhail caught sight of you. The âold tankâ mustâve deduced how upset you were, and so said nothing. Carlos gave him an update. Careful to praise Jillâs bravery. Super careful not to hint at any sort of sacrifice. Might have to be the shoulder they cry on, he reminded himself, palms itching for yours again. You were standing closer to his superior than him. Some professionalism had to be shown. It was why he didnât just go for a quickie on the tracks. Â
âYouâre right,â you whispered, when it was just the two of you on the platform. âIâm out of my depth.âÂ
It wasnât just that you were terrified. For Jill, yourself, everyone on the train. You wanted to be useful and you werenât sure how you could be. Aside from boosting the troopsâ morale (granted, only one man), you were still just a civilian. Hiding underground. While some ogre fucker was up there hunting your pal Val.Â
âI need protect-â
Carlos was about to swoop in, cutting off your words with a hungry kiss, about to overtake you with his all-consuming love, when the fucking walkie-talkie went off.Â
âCarlos, Iâm in the control room.â
âNice!â His tone sounded the same, despite his frustrated expression. Which you pretended not to see. âNow you gotta plot out a route.â
âOkay, gimme a sec.â
Your delighted expression made his heart melt. Before he remembered you were elated about someone else being alive, the corner of his mouth received a peck. Not a full-on kiss, with your lips engulfing his, but heâd take it. Normally youâd be chastising yourself for moving too quickly. No one could blame you for emotional outbursts then, though.Â
What was ______ saying? âI need protection.âÂ
(You were actually going to say âprotecting.â)Â
His tongue darted out, coveting your mouth, then slipped back inside. Couldnât show you how horny he was. Not with Jill on the other line. Channel. She was on the other channel. He wasnât going to use military equipment to fulfill any kinks. Unless you were into that. Phone sex. Maybe someday. Of course, he had zero interest in sharing you. Exhibitionism was different. Letting others bask in the glorious love he and his partner madeâŠ
We donât need protection. I want your saliva and cum everywhere, ______. And vice versa.Â
âAlright, where are we headed?â Jill came back, sounding chipper.Â
âThe train is stopped at Redstone Street.â He mentally high fived himself for not sounding horny. âWe need it to reach Fox Park Station. Can you program that in?â
As jealous as he had started to feel, you assured him she wasnât your type. But that was back in the tunnel, where youâd tried to hide a mild injury from him. Not a big fat lie. Carlos just needed you to be open with him. In the future, he promised himself, you would be. He still felt horrible at having hurt you, unintentionally or not. Even if it happened before he realized he was in love.Â
âHey, Iâm Supercop. Consider it done.â
You were back to holding hands, and Carlos gently pressed his lips to yours, hoping then you didnât notice how aroused he was. The idea of your bodily fluids coating every square inch of his skin was probably too intense to tell you about, at that moment. Or your tongueâhis own tongue bitten in order to not dart out again, like a snakeâsâprobing his clenching anus.Â
Jillâs attitude was having a positive effect on yours. You gave his hand a squeeze. The couple minutes it took her to finish her task went by.
âCarlos, itâs me. Iâve finished inputting the subway route.â
âGreat!â you mouthed. She was in such a good mood. Â
âJill, you are amazing! Tough as nails, too. Head back to the station. Weâll make sure the subway is ready to depart.â Â
Okay, Jill Valentine could be part of the wedding part.
Surely you were wondering that, too. That or When do I get to see Carlosâs hairy ass again?Â
Heâd left the flamethrower on the surface. Not that itâd done much to deter that behemoth. Who kind of reminded Carlos of himself. It wasnât like he was a stalker, though. You had zero desire to be apart from him.Â
âNice job, supercop. Iâm impressed.â
âWe back in business?â
Carlos informed her it would take at least half an hour for the subway to be functional.  Â
You rushed to hug Jill. Though something almost cemented your feet to the platform. It wasnât your civilian status. Not this time. Just an odd feeling that was the wrong move, for some reason.Â
The overhead door under the exit sign shot up, causing Jill to let go and Carlos to aim his rifle. Two other U.B.C.S. guys strolled in. The one with shortly cropped gray hair impatiently pushed the rolling shutters up as he entered.Â
âNicholai! How we doinâ?â
Not bothering to introduce us, you noted. Back to business.Â
âThe townâs crawling with those freaks.â Ah, a countryman of Mikhailâs. âNo chance of fighting our way out of the city.â He pointed at Jill, not even bothering with you. âWhy is she here?â
âSheâs helping get the trains running again,â explained Carlos, annoyed.Â
âBad time to start carrying dead weight, friend. Sheâs unreliable. Canât pull the trigger when it counts.â
For your benefit, as well as Jillâs, Carlos said, âHey, take it easy.â
âSheâll get you killed.â
Since neither Nicholai nor his companion acknowledged you, you figured you were at least a step above âdead weight.â (Tyrell, though, as you would learn, was a better person than his brothers-in-arms.)
A noncombatant was less hated than a hesitant warrior.Â
Get them back on the train! you imagined Nicholai barking.Â
âSorry about that,â Carlos made sure to apologize to Jill. It was good that his coworkers werenât interested in you. âEveryoneâs a little worked up.â Then, âAw, come on. Not again.âÂ
Before you knew it you and Carlos were on the other side of the gate while Jill ran off, luring the pursuer away. Her explanation: âItâs me heâs after.â
With fading hope, you realized Nemesis (as youâd later find out he was called) was like a more intense version of Nicholai. An Umbrella employee who disliked Jill Valentine and ignored you. Carlos found that funny.
âHey, if thereâs ever the opportunity for some friendly fireâŠâ
It was supposed to come out as a joke, but you werenât so sure. Judging by the earnest look on Carlosâs face. You saw his fingers graze the walkie-talkie. Alarmed, you opened your mouth to ask if heâd actually turned off Jillâs only way of contacting you two. Then he shoved his tongue inside.
Lust overrode your conscience and you sucked face for a minute. Before remembering Jill was in imminent danger. More peril than sheâd ever been in her life. No one else here cared as much as you did. Nobody in the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service was going to risk their neck for Officer Valentine now.Â
âGod, I canât wait to feel that tongue-â
You placed a hand on his chest, refusing to succumb to pecs. Somehow his vest had been removed without you noticing. Even with the shirtâs thicker fabric, you saw hard nipples. Could feel them, Carlos thought, if you just moved your fingers a little⊠He was annoyed by your reluctance. Only to be sated, at least for the moment, when you rested your head against his shoulder.
Did you accidentally turn off the radio? you wanted to ask. Unsure if âaccidentallyâ could be un-emphasized.Â
Now Iâm the shoulder youâre crying on.Â
As much as you craved comfort⊠It wasnât going to come from sex. Not at the moment. Jill wasnât going to come back. Not unless she slayed the monster. And he was just so resilient. More lives than all the cats in Raccoon City. You could almost hear the roar of âS.T.A.R.S.!â while Jill frantically scrambled back.Â
Your tears gushed and Carlosâs heart melted. But not his boner. There was precum. Which heâd really, really hoped to have you sample. Heâd been in a great mood when heâd introduced himself, in part due to a fresh orgasm. Maybe a security cam caught footage of him jerking it in that alley. Cue heavy weapons specialist joke.Â
Carlos had to quickly decide whether to let you keep at it or not. There was a good chance Jill might not be coming back, after all. Okay, that meant you needed to cry it out. (And that Carlos Oliveira would be your sole protector. You wouldnât need to share your heart with anyone else.) Now or later. He decided to ignore his erectionâalmost as hard to kill as Nemesisâand let you finish staining his shirt with your lachrymations.Â
He was so focused on you, he didnât realize the radio was back on. If he noticed the start of quiet static, you wouldnât say anything. Just hope Carlos thought heâd made a mistake. You let him strum his fingers down your vertebrae. Sure, you were scared, but you could fight back tears. You chose not to, because crying could save Jillâs life. If you reacted angrily, who knew how he might respond? Jillâd taken issue with Umbrella and sheâd be martyred for those beliefs. Because at that point you didnât believe she was being sacrificed just so Carlos had better access to your heart. And mouth.Â
âSorry for getting your shirt wet,â you whispered. Hand in hand, you returned to the others.Â
Carlosâs guard was so down, he couldnât hide his confusion when Supercop was able to break through.Â
âCarlos, can you hear me now?â
âJill!â he exclaimed, clearly for your sake only. âOh, thank God! Everything okay?â
âYeah, Iâm alive. I lost him.â
âGreat. The subwayâs ready to go. Weâll leave as soon as you make it back.â
You chose to ignore Nicholaiâs response and the rest of the militiamen. How would you shake Carlos? You might have to sleep with him first. He probably expected that. Jillâd known better than to immediately trust an Umbrella underling. While youâd been taken in by your hero.Â
Charming is short for âCarlos harming,â you thought. Stupid joke, but you didnât want to cry for this part.Â
âCarlos, itâs Jill. Do you read me?â
âLoud and clear. You alright?âÂ
âYeah⊠Bastardâs dead.âÂ
âGood. Fuck âim.â Â
That shouldâve been a relief.
âBut what were you thinking, turning yourself into bait? You could have been killed.â
âDonât start,â Jill sighed. âI did what I had to.â
âI know, and, uh, thanks.âÂ
Carlos sincerely meant that. Even though the thought of being your only defender was tantalizing, realistically he knew you were more likely to make it if more than one person was invested in your safety. His coworkers werenât romantics like him. Their goal was to save as many civilians as possible. Lovely, empathetic ______Â included. But not the sole priority. Carlos, however, wouldâve let that train car full of civilians combust if it meant youâd make it out of Raccoon City safely. Throw those NPCs to the walking unalive ad hoc. All for you.Â
Fuck, if youâre some kind of sick fuck, Iâd kick them out one-by-one begging to live for your amusement, ______. Â
Carlos knew you (probably) werenât. You were a sweetheart. Concerned about Jillâs wellbeing and all. And his.Â
How the hell was Nicholai not at the very least charmed by you? Carlos was extra careful to analyze everyone elseâs tone and body language. To make sure there were no other potential suitors. People did crazy things in disaster situations. Even if there were technically more important issues at hand, it was hard to ignore a total smokeshow. (Especially when their personality traits were so complementary to his own.) Goodness, when would you find the time to have happy-to-be-alive sex?Â
Unfortunately, once again, you caught him turning the radio off, so you âsecretlyâ turned it back on. He thought maybe heâd unconsciously done that. But no. You wanted Jill safe. And youâd caught him. That was bad. Potentially very, very bad. Â
You hadnât left him to chat with another civilian more than two times. That was a good sign. ______ âs making new friends. Both times, you faced him, shooting a grin now and then. His heart quickened. It was actually nice, gazing at you from afar. Like when you first met.Â
Others tried talking to him once or twice, but Carlos kept those interactions as short as courtesy allowed. He only wanted what was best for you. Carlos hoped heâd have time to explain that, if you couldnât already see it. Lovers quarreled. He didnât realize you were so unsettled, you couldnât stand to constantly be next to him. You just couldnât. You would slip up somehow. Alert him to the fact you knew what he was.Â
But you needed to keep an eye on Carlos to make sure no one else became zombie chow.Â
âJill, you there? I think I know how to slow that fucker down,â he radioed in. More than half an hour after she left. Bluffing, for all you knew. âHead back towards the station!âÂ
âAnd lead him right to you?!â
âItâs okay. Trust me!â
The lust was still, troublingly, simmering under the surface. It began bubbling over when Carlos actually went to greet Jill, you in tow. He grabbed her by the elbow before practically pushing her towards the entrance, into your arms. Or she would have, if she hadnât shooed you further inside. Jill screamed at him to forget about Nemesis while he grit his teeth, firing round after round. There was an explosion and they both joined you as the overhead door descended.Â
âCâmon, letâs get out of here,â he said. Shaken confidence audible.Â
âCarlos, I know we didnât get off to a great start, but⊠thanks for the save.âÂ
Jill, you wanted to shriek, he was going to let you be a casualty.Â
Of course you knew cops and soldiers (were supposed to) lay down their lives ad hoc. You had tried and failed to convince yourself Carlos just didnât want you to overhear Jillâs âinevitableâ murder.Â
Raccoon City had become what you imagined an active warzone was like, and she was in the line of duty, yet Nemesis really was just a hitman when it came down to it. Inhuman supersoldier or not.Â
âHey, you saved my ass first. Youâre a hell of a lot braver than me.â
He sounded so vulnerable.Â
âWell,â she responded, âwhat matters is that we get everyone out of the city.â
âYeah. Youâll be safe.âÂ
Unless he decides a fragging is in order.Â
Was that a correct usage of fragging? Jill was a policewoman, so she outranked an evil corporationâs militia. Not that U.B.C.S. cared. That douche Nicholai and his companion didnât know or care, probably. Mikhail at least was diplomatic. Carlos was-
Mwah!
He had gotten impatient. The commute to Fox Park couldnât happen soon enough. All Carlos wanted to do was steer you into literally any empty room and let that quick tongue of yours get acquainted with his erogenous bits. Hell, heâd be grateful if you just made out sloppy and cupped his balls a couple times.Â
Now ______ knows I am going to keep Jill safe, too.
So he saw no reason to be coy now of all times. You sighed, or moaned. Even you couldnât tell what noise it was. Carlos almost smiled. You wouldnât be able to control what sounds you made when he pleasured you. A pleasant surprise. But his next words shocked you, despite or maybe because of all youâd been through together that night.Â
âFrom the sound of it, I wonât be catching the train.âÂ
âWhy not?â Jill asked.Â
âIf it means I can help save the city, thatâs fine by me.â
At the platform, Mikhailâs jovial congratulations to Jill and command to board the subway just made you mentally scoff. How could he act like nothing was wrong with his underling? Then you realized that was a slightly ridiculous question. Nicholai was unpleasant, too. Mercenaries didnât enlist in corporation-backed militias because they were nice, normal people.Â
âCarlos, Tyrell, you have your orders. You need to go back into the city and find Nathaniel Bard.â
Your heart dropped. Is that what heâd been told you were mingling with other civilians? His expression hadnât changed.Â
Jill asked, âThis isnât the last ride out of town, right?â
âDo not worry,â Mikhail soothed. âOnce the civilians are safe, the train will be back.â
âDonât worry, I wonât die on you two,â Carlos said, eyes lingering on you before flicking to her. âI wonât leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world.âÂ
Jill moved on, but you lingered in the train carâs doorway. Feeling desperate. It hit all of a sudden that you might not get to see your rescuer again. He didnât exactly fit the definition of hero. (Para)military hero, maybe, yeah. Was he just acting this way because of Mikhailâs watchful eyes, or did Carlos have a change of heart?Â
You realized Jill was watching the three men through the window. She may or may not have been able to read lips. You decided to eavesdrop. For her sake. Not just my curiosity, you told yourself. Â
â...find this scientist. His vaccine research could save us all.â
âYou see?â Nicholaiâs voice almost made you jump. âYouâre learning. The only life that matters is your own.â
What if someone else becomes my life?
âAlright, letâs go,â Mikhail casually ordered, making you actually jump, just in time to avoid getting caught by the automatic door.Â
Carlosâs eyes widened. Tyrellâs might have, or maybe he lifted an eyebrow. Your gaze, though, was trained on Carlos. Who was ecstatic. Â
It hadnât really occurred to Carlos you would put yourself in harmâs way for him, which he wouldnât ultimately let you do. He was your protector. And you knew that. Relied on it. To the point where youâd defied Mikhail and jumped from a speeding train, as heâd already begun to remember your return. All thoughts of Jill Valentine, his duties, everything else melted away as he stepped forward for a devouring embrace.Â
You decided to believe heâd turned off the radio by accident after all.Â
You wondered whether Tyrell knew, or at least suspected, something was off about his squadmate. Either way, you figured it was safer to act coy. Like you didnât want any more PDA until entering a safe zone. Your new boyf was a good soldier. The soppy looks he couldnât stop shooting made you nervous, however. Tyrell was thankfully much less distracted.Â
Carlos, grown more adept at reading your body language, slowly at first, began to understand he needed to act like a soldier again.Â
Fighter, not a lover. Lover will come later.Â
Neither Mikhail nor Nicholai were radioing in. And he didnât feel like mentioning them. Or Jill. Heâd nearly forgotten her. Now that she wasnât a liability, and couldnât protect you from afar, she just wasnât on his radar anymore. If Tyrell wasnât there, he would happily turn soppy to sloppy with you. But you only wanted Carlosâs attention.Â
When Tyrell referred to Jill as Carlosâs âhot dateâ by the Raccoon Police Station, you almost burst out laughing. Maybe he was just trying to irk Carlos. Who quickly corrected him.
You cringed when he opened the gate. It couldâve used some WD-40.
âAlright,â the other U.B.C.S. member relented. âKeep your head screwed on, Romeo. This is the police station.âÂ
âUh, are you sure? âCause it looks more like a cemetery to me.â
You agreed that it did look more like a burial ground than anything. There were even benches for the bereaved. No stone crosses, angels, or any place for epitaphs; each grave marker was a wooden post.
As the three of you made way across the courtyard and a short flight of steps, you heard a demand for a Brad to stop. By this point Carlos trusted you to stick to him, while he shouted âT!â and Tyrell immediately began breaking down wooden boards.
âCâmon, man, not you, too.â
Gunshots rang out, a hoarse âsorry,â then a scream, and finally what was probably the tearing of still living flesh. The door shut so faintly before locking you didnât hear it. Tyrell confirmed that, while Carlos decided to take on the zombified Brad. Who you then recognized as one of Jillâs coworkers.Â
New position just opened up.Â
Your admirerâs moves were more predictable now that he thought of you as a partner. You dodged his steps as he backed up, futilely firing at Bradâs Rasputinian skull. Â
âHeâs S.T.A.R.S.?â quietly remarked Carlos before pocketing the fallen officerâs ID. It had taken fifteen shots. âThat could be useful.â
Fifteen shots. Was Nemesis really dead this time? Bioengineered with the sole mission of obliterating each member of Special Tactics and Rescue Service. Not just Jill Valentine. What would Nemesis do if he found the body? Move onto the next target, probably. An image of a poster, WANTED DEAD OR UNDEAD emblazoned underneath Jillâs picture made you shiver.Â
âHey, the big guyâs not going to mistake us for S.T.A.R.S. if we have that, right?â
âIâm carrying it,â he soothed.Â
Like that mattered. Youâd been in the line of fire. Thereâd presumably been only one of those roided out zombies running around. Nemesis would âresurrectâ again, and you just had to trust Mikhail wouldnât sacrifice Jill when he did.Â
Carlos wonât hurt you. Carlos wonât let you get hurt.Â
You thought back to how he reacted to your minor burns. The guilt. It hadnât been an act. He might play pretend around others. But when it was just the two of you alone togetherâŠ
Carlos prayed heâd get you to himself soon. This roomy building probably had to have some not-too-creepy place where you could explore his fit body. You were also thinking of how spacious the police station was. A former museum, Jill had mentioned once. Too bad all that funding was mostly useless during a zombie apocalypse.Â
âWhereâd that cop go?â demanded Carlos as you went inside.Â
âDonât know, donât care,â replied Tyrell. âWe have a job to do.â
If itâd been Nicholai leaning over a desk, Carlos mightâve actually brained his partner. T wasnât a bad guy, though. Certainly not a threat to _____. Disinterested, if anything.Â
âIf our intelâs still worth a damn, then Bardâs still in the S.T.A.R.S. office. Letâs find him and take him into custody.âÂ
Carlos thought too soon. âCustody?â he asked aloud. Oh no. Offing zombies was one thing. Arresting a live target. What the hell would he do if Bard did something stupid?
âWeâre not rescuing him?âÂ
Tyrell either hadnât heard you or didnât care. Carlos was glad you were on the same wavelength, though. T then called him over.Â
âRemember, Bard had access to Umbrellaâs darkest secrets. He knows weâll try to keep him under our thumbs.â
Uh oh. Why was he speaking so freely about that in front of you?
Your soulmate didnât bother masking his tone. âSo this search and rescue mission is more of a find and detain.â Eyes wide as saucers, you nodded. Tyrell was focused on the computer. â...Right. Good to know.â
Looking over his shoulder, you noted that the office was next to a library. For future reference. Possibly a good place to get further acquainted. Roleplay a librarian and a patron who talked too much, needed a cock in their mouth about it. Around 613.9. Coincidentally, that was the only Dewey Decimal Carlos knew off the top of his head. Of course, you lamented, it was a police library. And surveilled besides. There was a shower room nearby, though. Â
â...stay here and find out whatâs going on here at the station.â
âCall me if you find anything,â Tyrell addressed you. Confused for a sec, until you remembered Carlos had entrusted you with the radio. You nodded and started off. âHey. Be careful.â
âYou too, man,â Carlos called back, still clearly unhappy about the arrest order. At least you were with him. He didnât hand over a weapon. A rifle was secured on his back while he brandished a handgun. You were okay being designated lookout.Â
âAlright,â were the next words out of his mouth. To an overhead door with a crudely made sign. âYou want me to keep out, Iâll keep out.â
You moved onto the next door. Which Carlos proclaimed âweird fucking.â
âLeave it,â called Tyrell. âWeâre here for Bard.â Â
âIs that a spade? Like the card suit?â you wondered, running a finger over the blue design. Probably paste. Even if this building was originally built for a fancier purpose, you figured you were looking at glass.Â
â...clear,â Carlos breathed, voice deeper. It touched you a little that he hated the idea of making Dr. Bard a prisoner. Â
The gun was drawn as he sped upstairs, while you kept a hand on the bannister. Nothing there of use, besides some bullets, which he pocketed. You wondered why the statue was covered. You joked he was scoping out makeout spots. Downstairs, in another room, you spotted a memorandum.Â
ââIf your card goes missing, report it lost immediately.ââ Remembering the late Brad Vickers, you made a face. Carlos mouthed thanks before unlocking a storage box with the pilfered ID. Ammo for the rifle. Perfect, because the noise of gunshots interspersed with screams seeped through the door. Back against the wall, your boy carefully opened it. Even from your angle, you were given a clear sideview of a monstrously lengthy tongue extend towards two gunmen and reel one towards an offscreen maw.  Â
âWhat-?â started Carlos.Â
â...were you saying earlier about tentacles? Between this and Jillâs boy, Umbrella scientists are some freaks for real.â
âCouldnât have been a zombie.âÂ
He told you to lower your eyes as you two gingerly made your way down the adjacent hallway. Replaying the shadow play of the appendage reeling in its victim. It sunk in that you two might die here.Â
You ignored the bodies. Carlos didnât need to tell you to not pass under the blood dripping from above. A carcass stored in a ceiling hollow, like a slaughtered animal in a larder, didnât seem so farfetched. Later heâd tell you someoneâd been essentially meat hooked. So you were half-right.Â
âIt didnât stick around. Here we go.â
As you looked up, he fired at a far off figure. Too distant to tell who or what it was. Something hurried past a window. A blood-coated man crashed through the next window. Before you knew it, a second zombie joined the party through the double doors on the right. Carlos made quick work of them. Not quick enough, in your opinion. You wished he could give you a gun. The unknown monster was out there. Its tongue big enough to bind you two twice around and pull you onto gnashing teeth. If it even had teeth. And maybe it was humongous enough to swallow prey whole. Dozens of possibilities of what it looked like ran through your mind.Â
A mounted television set in a dark room silently broadcasted RCBN. Not seeing anything remotely hopeful on the news, you followed Carlosâs light. He opened another set of double doors, before dispatching a zombie. Â
Carlos was determined to ensure your mutual survival. Dying together was romantic. But seeing you suffer was unbearable. He didnât even like seeing you bored. Especially when he was right there. His darling wasnât even fazed by the sound of gunfire anymore. To amuse yourself, you decided to read arrest reports. You read one then informed him there were confiscated explosives.Â
Very useful to know, but as he stabbed a fallen cop to (a second) death, blood spraying every which way, he wished you could drop you off at the library or by the vending machines. Then find Bard. Make him willingly go with Tyrell. Somehow. Then victory fuck you.Â
Huffing, he looked down at himself. There were showers and probably something to âexsanguinateâ his clothes. The thought of getting his abs, genitals, and crack soaped up perked Carlos up a little. Maybe you liked your men bloody. After all, you were watching him slash a neck again and again without comment.Â
Some kind of fucked up foreplay.Â
He went to doubletap (doubleslice) two more bodies lying on the floor.Â
âThere you are, dickface.â
A quadrupedal beast had skittered up. First thing you noticed were the claws. They belonged on a mole gone apex predator. Then the face. Its brain was exposed. Zero eyes. How Carlos had guessed that was the same monstrosity from earlier you didnât know. Once you saw its tongue up close, lashing at him, you understood. It mustâve had a pretty large cavity to store that appendage. Maybe when it was digesting a large meal, it hung out, lolling.Â
Carlos pulled you around a corner. Finally he was able to riddle it with bullets. Not that the entry wounds were visible, due to its large frame and the police stationâs darkness.Â
Despite a lack of skin, the Licker bled no heavier than the others.Â
You told Carlos your teratophilia only extended to fictional beings. Just to keep the mood light. The next time he came across a more humanoid zombie, he didnât bother letting you get a good look before he knifed it in catharsis.Â
Boredom gave way to numbness. Or it would have, if Carlos hadnât felt like celebrating outside the weapons lockers.Â
âCome to papa.âÂ
For all the restraint your savior had shown for the last God-knew-how-many hours, you expected the kiss to be deeper. At first you thought it was just a little victory peck. Until he backed up.Â
âI didnât want to get blood on your clothes. Unless youâre into that.â
Turns out the stabbing was some kind of fucked up foreplay. Because otherwise why did he have a raging boner?
His eyes took on that same dullness they had when found out heâd singed you. âNervous?â
âNew fear unlocked.â You swallowed, praying you came off as coy again. âI donât have a change of clothes. Neither do you.â
âMaybe we can impersonate some cops later.â
He went in for a second smooch. Hm. Off duty he must have been applying chapstick like crazy. You wanted more than anything to just melt into it. To tell yourself you made the right choice leaving Jill. Then the radio went off.
âCarlos, Iâve hit a dead end with the terminal here. Gonna head your way.â
âCopy that,â Carlos told Tyrell. Grinning. The wolfish smile didnât translate to his tone. Your heart beat faster. He was done waiting.Â
âWeâd better hurry. I donât want Tyrell to see us naked.â
âI donât want him to see you naked. Itâd be kind of funny if T saw me get my ass eaten, though.â He chuckled. âCome on, ______, I know you wanna lick the donut.â
âWe were joking about it right before you asked my opinion on tentacles,â you remembered.Â
ââJoking.ââ
Your soldier boy had already angled his hip, ready to turn around and drop trou. Soon as you consented.
âItâs a little sweaty, from running around all night,â he added.
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Request: âyandere carlos oliveira resident evil 2 [sic] remake x neutral reader?â I hurt my hand/wrist, so hereâs a WIP. Suggestive, havenât gotten to the really NSFW yet. This part might get rewritten for the final draft if the rest diverges too much.Â
Imagine trying to pinpoint when Carlos became obsessed with you.Â
Carlos trailed you like Nemesis after Jill. You got the feeling heâd knock down walls if he could. It wasnât stalking. Because you needed to be with him. For your own safety. That was something you both wordlessly agreed on. So you were always going to be together. Neither of you knew that yet, but Carlos was starting to warm up to the idea.Â
âHey! Fuckface!â
Later that night, after your tryst, after Carlos retroactively decided itâd been love at first sight, you decided against joking thatâd been directed at you. âFuckfaceâ could be an apt nickname. But you didnât want him to start thinking your face was his personal fleshlight. Or pillow. Being used that way sent a jolt of pleasure down past your waist.Â
Only later would you come to regret being seen by Carlos. After hitting Nemesis with the rocket launcher, the mercenaryâs eyes met yours. You were clearly not the target. You were just trying to help your⊠What was Jill to you? A roommate? Friend? God, he hoped she was just a friend. You pointed your chin at her, forced yourself to smile gratefully, and got to your feet.Â
How were you not even singed? Well, he could check your skin for burns later. Right now you wanted him to help her.Â
âNameâs Carlos and Iâm saving you!âÂ
He had an easygoing way about him, even in an emergency. Even when it became clear there was some siphoning darkness in his heart, Carlos was charm personified.Â
The two of you supported Jill until all three of you were underground. In the subway. It was hard to carry on a convo when everyone was trying not to stumble on the endless steps, Carlos carrying a rifle while you both helped Jill descend. Â
âWeâve been bringing survivors here.âÂ
Jill finally caught her breath and stood unsupported. ââHereâ where?âÂ
âMy guys have converted some subway cars into a shelter,â he answered, checking to make sure nothing came down the stairs. He nodded at you and Jill, but made to put his arm around her shoulder again. Â
âIâm fine.â
âPersonal space. OK. I get it. Letâs go.â It came out jovial enough. Carlos didnât want Jill to think he was hitting on her. Somehow he hadnât been able to âaccidentallyâ brush his hand against yours when assisting her, though. If she was a rival, maybe it wouldâve been better to let that behemoth take her. Sure, Carlosâs cute new crush would be traumatized. But with Raccoon City burning and infested with the hungry dead, well, heâd love to be the shoulder you cried on.
âI donât have an issue with personal space,â you joked. It just slipped out. The mood drastically needed lightening. A rocket launcher might not be enough to take down that thing hunting Jill. You wanted to make a joke about Nemesisâs feet being too big to take the steps; heâd have to roll down.Â
That phrase was all Carlos needed to hear. He tapped your forearm and you smiled for the second to last time that night.
âLetâs go.â
Before obeying, you spotted the vending machine. Carlos shouted at you to be careful while you gingerly moved your hand past the broken glass.Â
Out of reflex, you took his hand. Your vice-like grip. It didnât bother him.Â
âSorry, Carlos. Iâm just⊠Itâs just really scary out there. And I thought you might need to replenish your energy.â
You loosen your grip and he squeezes your hand reassuringly, thanking you.Â
Jill questioned Carlos on that monster. Thatâs what she called it. âThat monster.â Personally, it made you think of a troll or some other humanoid from folklore. It probably didnât calcify in the sunlight, though. Then you remembered the tentacles. How could you forget? They were scary as fuck. Why were they even there?
â...itâs no zombie, it knows what it wants and wonât stop till it gets it. Donât you like that in a man?â
âNormally,â you responded to Carlos. You shared a smile behind his back. âThatâs not Jillâs type, though.â
âHeâs all yours,â she added, also directed at Carlos.Â
______ liked the persistent type. Great. And if heâd looked over his shoulder, he would have caught you shamelessly checking out his backside.Â
âLook, I promise youâre in good hands. Iâm with the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. U.B.C.S. for short.â
Uh oh, you thought, a split second before fantasizing that Umbrella Corps gave butt plugs with their logo to their top employees. Any chance of Jill being taken in by this smooth talker was nil. Â
âAre you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! You guys are the ones who caused all this!â
Carlos woahâd four times. âWhat are you talking about? You donât have to trust me, but weâre going to the shelter.â He opened the door to the subwayâs station. âYou cominâ?â
Replaying that exchange in your mind later, you realized that if Jill had been outwardly angrier, she would have been a dead woman. Despite her tone, Jillâs body language hadnât changed as she descended that penultimate flight of stairs. S.T.A.R.S. agent or not, Carlos only saw her as useful in the sense you liked her. Platonically. How would he have excused his actions to his fellow U.B.C.S. soldiers?
Following him to the train car, you let Jill hang back a moment. Something felt off. Maybe it was the creepy posters. Normally youâd be all over a Skull Stalker double feature. Trying to keep your friend safe from a real stalker quelled that desire.Â
âHey, Captain. ______ and this fine young lady could use our help.â
The peculiar introduction didnât escape your notice. Mikhail, as he was about to introduce himself, nodded at you before admonishing his underling for not asking Jill her name. Turns out he knew of Officer Valentine. Carlosâs proximity also didnât escape your notice. Despite the fact you were a civilian, neither he nor Mikhail expected you to join the others. You listened to the rest of the conversation on your feet. The other three were sitting down, or in Carlosâs case kneeling.Â
Probably practicing proposing, you mused, unaware how not far off the mark you were. Â
â...hey, itâs cool, we all want the same thing,â he said, dragging you out of your thoughts with a glance.Â
âAlright, supercop,â he addressed Jill. âHere you go. We can use this to stay in contact.â
âI know what a radio is.â
And so Jill returned to the surface. Concluding the prologue of your romance with Carlos Oliveira.Â
Your face is so pretty, treasure. So pretty that it just begs me to bury it between my thighs and cover it in my wetness, mercilessly ride it from your mouth to your forehead, indulge in the way you wriggle beneath me whenever you're dangerously out of air, so pretty even that I might use it to hump myself high against it every evening, every morning too if you're looking extra beautiful (you always do), and by the end of it all, you'll spend every minute at home soaked in my taste and smell and there's nothing you'd exchange that for.