destined to be king. those were probably the first words uttered to him fresh out of his mother's womb. crown, a bloody ring of an umbilical cord wrapped snug around thin strands of gold. he often wondered if the day he was born was the day he was destined to die. had the cord wrapped lower, tightening around his neck instead...the thought of that possibility sat in the back of his mind one day and never really left. it also felt like the only thing that truly belonged to him in a life paved and set out for him. a small selfish little treat he was allowed in exchange for his entire soul and being. his meaning.
"your royal highness..."
he looked into the girl's eyes and smiled. reminding himself to show slight teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. makes him look kind. makes him look loving and sincere. she wasn't the first he'd bedded. there were many. men, women, nobles, low-borns. he has a whispered reputation of being a player, rejecting suitors but taking each one to bed. had his destiny been different, had he not been heir to the throne, his reputation would have been exclaims mixed with unconcealed disgust. no better than a common whore.
"just Leon, sweetheart."
saying that to people made their eyes dilate. made them feel special and full and warm. it creates connection. something that all human beings crave and keeps them tethered. he squashes down that bitterness of yearning to feel something as he reaches over her and grabbed his goblet. he swallows the red liquid, letting ruby droplets roll down his throat and pool in the curves and dips of his abdomen. a pond of bloodied sin within his navel. he could feel her eyes tracing the rivulets, tracing his body, tracing that connection between them. he placed the goblet down and pulls her into a kiss, swirling bitter sweet with warmth and human. two separate yearnings sated through one common practice.
fucking.
he grabbed at her soft skin with an urgency, kissing down her jaw and latching his canines into the side of her throat. a sign of need. proof of his living. he lapped at the grooves, hands tracing lower beneath the sheets. practiced fingers slipped between her thighs, curving and curling as they carved connection into the warmth of her pussy. her moans and whimpers spurred him on, that momentary warmth and connection through something so human and simple making his heart beat quicken. the tangible proof of life, meaning, and purpose that he so craved.
he kissed her deeper, knuckles sliding in and out of her soaked pussy. he pulled away from her lips and placed his other hand over her lower stomach as he pumped his fingers, tongue swirling around her right nipple. he pulled off with a pop nosing his way down soft flesh to suckle onto her throbbing clit. the night was still young and he had time to feel purpose. he had a purpose.
he woke up the next morning to a warm body, a day filled with set duties to fulfill. another day of going through the motions.
"sire! your swordsmanship rivals anything i've ever-"
the excited voice of a young soldier, eyes brimming with life as it shone with awe upon looking at him. he wondered if his eyes had been that way too when he was younger. full of ambition. excitement and fulfillment from being seen. he can't recall a time where the blue in his eyes held warmth. even as his father placed the weighted crown upon his young head. so naturally, he smiled. the same one where he crinkled his eyes and flashes his teeth. just slightly. too much would unnerve and too little would deprecate.
"you know, flattery would usually get you nowhere."
he interrupts with that slight raspy voice he had. he ran his fingers through his damp blonde locks. the boy's eyes were eager. holding the same intensity as his unpracticed grip tightened on either sides of Leon's hips, chanting his title in sinful moans as he thrusted. Leon groaned and grunted, saliva soaking the bedsheets as he held it between his teeth. he could feel it rubbing against his walls as his ass slapped against the young man's hips to meet his thrusts. sure it burned a little but he felt full. feeling that mind numbing pleasure blur out everything else into indiscernible fragments of what were once thoughts.
the warmth and dampness of the man's palms wrapped around his cock, tugging it a tad too harshly in the midst of his blissed out haze had Leon spilling into his hands with a whimper. everything was quiet except for their panting breaths and he was tethered once more. the warmth of being alive and human and connected encompassing his shivering form in more ways than one. the boy kissed the sweat off his nape and pulled away, pulling the cum stained sheets over the both of them. this was meaning. this was purpose. and this was what he'll lose sight of again the very next day until he finds a warm body to lay with come night time.
he woke up the next day with an aching body, ageing bones sore from the way his body curved and tensed from what he did last night. his bed was empty as he sat up with a loud groan. he needed a drink to get through today. so he walked down to the cellar beneath his castle all by himself with a lantern in hand. he liked to do this alone without anyone. the cellar's mustiness felt comforting. like a shroud of loneliness to cradle his own loneliness. he felt at home.
trudging down the stairs, he was suddenly reminded of a meeting he had with a wine merchant from abroad just the other day. he had come with a business proposal to expand his magical wine that had healing properties. he remembered the stifled laughs on the faces of his court members, how they seemed to think it was a blatant sham. a cheap trick to get the wine to sell at a higher price to a foreign country with no magic imbued in their culture. a country who believed it to be nothing but an old maid's tale.
however, something about the man's earnest eyes in the midst of a court that was ridiculing his efforts in hushed tones struck Leon.
"your business is welcome here, wine merchant. i look forward to sampling your wine."
he states simply, not heeding the urgent looks of his vourt members and advisors. he shook the short man's sweaty palms and gave him a small smile. one that somehow came and felt natural on his lips.
his reliving of the memory stopped short as his blue eyes landed on the case at the furthest end of the cellar. his fingers gripped around the neck of the wine bottle, hands tracing the gold leafed lettering on the label. the wine was red. the way he liked it. the colour was a deep red of almost stale blood he uncorked it with the tip of his dagger and the aroma hit him instantly.
it smelled nothing short of luxurious and incredible. not caring for a goblet, he sat next to the case and drank. eyes closing and throat tingling from the slight yet smooth burn as the wine slid down. it was amazing. the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. fruity, tangy, sweet with the right amount of bitter and something else. it had a tinge of woodiness to it. making it almost musky and somehow richer. this had to be ambrosia of the gods, he thought to himself as his eyes began to close and his skin grew hotter. no this was more sinful and rich than ambrosia. it had to be ichor. it had to be something from the veins of the old gods themselves. the alcohol was hitting and he was falling like he had never before into a sleep that felt like a serene death.
as he fell into a slumber, his dreams began to wake. he opened his eyes to lush greens. canopies, grass, and marshes. a forest that seemed to stretch into forever, probably grown over the course of many eons. he could feel the dank of the humidity weighing over him, filling his lungs and condensing on his battle marred skin. with squelching footsteps, he found himself walking deeper into the green nothingness.
soft humming an eerie sound that seemed to set his nerves on edge and soothe them at the same time. the closer he trudged to the source, the more his ears seem to ring. the melody was sweet, it serenaded each thump of his heartbeat like a siren's song. he was lulled closer and closer, fingers parting shrubs and foliage before his blue gaze landed on you.
"who's there?"
your voice was soft and yet it seemed to reverberate within him. your form was blurry and fizzling in and out of sight, as if his eyes couldn't fully comprehend what he was looking at. but from what he could see of the blur, you were beautiful. skin mottled with marbled green, hair as lush as the greenery you were both surrounded by, and eyes that seemed to see his vessel that held nothing. that was empty. you smelled of soil and flowers as you began to inch closer.
"how did you get here?"
you ask him in that dreamy voice, soft fingers caressing his stubbled jaw with enough tenderness to make his heart skip. you stared into his eyes for what felt like forever. as if you were reading him page by page. layer by layer. reading through the loneliness of being thrown onto a path set and paved by everyone else before they leave him to walk it alone. reading the void of emptiness that made him.
"i...don't know..."
he answers in a voice so hoarse and human in comparison, he felt stupid. your fingers were cold, touch as refreshing as a dip into a crystalline lake. and then your eyes began to shine, soft pools of golden shimmer beginning to fall from them.
"you shoulder a burden too heavy for a mortal with your heart."
you whispered to him, your green tinged fingers beginning to dull the longer you kept your hands on his skin. he blinked and swallowed, stepping away.
"who- what are you?"
he questioned in an unsteady voice, feeling stupid as soon as the words left his mouth. it was strange as he felt like he had known you his whole life and yet no name or memory came to mind. only the serene feeling of treading through grass on a warm summer day, smelling flowers freshly bloomed in spring, and the sound of rivers washing over aged stones.
"the blood flowing inside your veins will guide you to me."
you spoke in cryptic riddles. something Leon had never cared for having lived a life dictated by a cryptic riddle of a prophecy. but for some reason, he finally understood. like a key that finally slots into the rusted lock that sealed his soul. the missing puzzle piece to seal the void and fill it with meaning simultaneously. the message from you was clear as day.
he had to find you.
he woke up in cold sweat but the fire of determination burned in his chest. he had a purpose now. one that he would fulfill no matter what. so in the dark of night dressed in a cloak and armed with a dagger along with a small satchel of sustenance, he set out in search of you with the buzz in his veins as a guide.
he felt like he was in a trance as he kept walking for what felt like days, deeper into the forest. he felt exhausted and his feet numb and yet his tendons and joints worked like oiled machinery. he kept walking. skin shredded by thorns and twigs, feet raw and bleeding through his shoes, and vision spotting. he was getting closer...he had to be. as the moisture began to flood his lungs, Leon finds his knees buckling and he stumbles into a clearing he vaguely recognised. his ears rung and his head began to spin.
"you found me."
your voice floats as you seemed to appear from within the leaves. your form flickers and shifts, but you were just as breath stealing as he remembered. you began walking closer and his ears rung even louder, blood buzzing in his veins as if he was about to explode. all it took for everything to go quiet was your soft cold fingers on his face, swiping against the blood that seeped from his eyes, nose, and ears as he gazed up at you.
"my apologies, sweet child...my ichor is reaching to return to my vessel. but i have gifted it to you now. a gift from a lone soul to another."
you whispered so gently, holding him delicately. his stomach began to stir from a mix of awe and fear. birthing a mixture of pure heat that simmered. desire. lust. connection. nature's driving forces of attraction. your eyes despite the shifting of your form were like pools that kept pulling him in. not that he would want to leave given the chance. so he found himself leaning closer, nose pressed against yours. his breath warmed your cold skin and his lips ghosted over yours.
"are you what i've been seeking? the answer to this void inside me?"
he asks hoarsely, blue eyes desperate for you to let him hear what he had been waiting for in all his years of living.
"i am a part of you, Leon."
his name. clear and simple. not his surname, not his father's, and not his title. just his name. you could see him for all he is.
in an act driven by pure haze and need, he kissed you. the swirl of earthiness and fragrance on his tongue as his hands shakily cupped your cold cheeks. he felt your body envelop his, tendrils growing from your back and wrapping around him. he felt whole. even as the cold green tendrils slipped benath his shirt, flat damp leaves lapping at his navel while tinier ones wrapped around his peaked nipples. he whimpers against the kiss.
"let me take care of you, Leon..."
you whisper against the shell of his ear, hands holding onto his waist as your tendrils removed his clothes. there were so many just coiling around him. you pulled away from the kiss once more, leaving him panting desperately with a drool slicked chin. his skin flushed and his eyes shone like a pathetic needy pet.
you smiled and held his jaw in your hands the way you would a cute mutt, giving it a shake as your tendrils vontinued to stroke and tug at his flesh. one of them wrapped around his stiff cock and began oozing gold green ichor onto it as you began to stroke him.
"what an adorable pet."
you whisper, nipping at the shell of his ear as you enjoyed the cacophony of his moans and whimpers which began to grow louder. he was ensnared and held in a position which left him vulnerable. two of your fleshier tendrils began to trail towards his mouth and down his spine respectively, craving the warmth he held inside. the former slipped between his lips and began pumping in his throat while the other nudged at his ass as it lathered it with slimy gold green ooze. his warmth felt like heaven and you found yourself beginning to grow more stirred and incessant in your efforts.
the fleshier tendril dipped into his tight hole, pushing its way to curl against his prostate. you saw his fingers clench and his eyes shudder to a close. a loud whine escaped him as you began to move the tendril, scratching against his deepest parts each time. his muffled moans grew ragged as he squirmed in the net of your long appendages snaring him in place. open and vulnerable to anything you chose to do to him.
his thighs began to shake and you felt warmth coat the tendrils stroking and wrapped around his cock. you pulled him closer and replaced it with your own throbbing coldness, letting out a soft whine as your hands pressed against his chest.
"your warmth feels so good, Leon."
you say shakily as you began to move against him, sucking his sensitive and freshly orgasmed cock into your oddly cool and wet depths. he was shuddering and his muffled moans grew as he gagged against your tendril down his throat. you pulled it out and collected the dribbles of spit on your tongue before kiss him all sloppy with it. his eyes rolled back as you began to move, hips slapping against his as you rode him. you needed that warm seed to fill you. you needed his warmth and he needed you. it was perfect.
you moaned and panted as you used him to reach your climax. almost like he was your very own blow up doll with a heartbeat. he was sweating and trembling after his third orgasm, whining in a mix of pain and pleasure as you continued to rut against him. all while your fleshy tendril slid in and out of his tight hole. the sound of your hips slamming against his own and him moving desperately despite the intense stimulation was growing frantic.
"can't anymore...please..."
he begged as his fingers clutched at the grass blades so tightly, it began to cut into his skin. you kept one hand on his chest to keep him secured down while the other tucked his sweat soaked hair away from his face. he looked every bit the angelic human you had seen in that strange dream a few days ago. you let out a loud groan as you felt the dam within you break, gushing against his blank shooting overstimulated cock. the tendrils all over his body erupted simultaneously along with you, filling him with cold and comforting ooze that dribbled down his chin, ass, and thighs.
his eyelids fluttered as fatigue began to take over. you gently retracted your tendrils, stroking his face with tenderness as he hissed from sensitivity. you pulled him closer and hugged him in an evenly pressured and weighted embrace.
"you're whole now."
your doubled voices whispered against the shell of his ear as he began to drift. everything was going to be okay now. he had fulfilled his purpose and now he was going to return back into the soil. he had achieved the peace and won back his soul against all odds.
years later, travellers from a kingdom long fallen would travel into the forests. deep within it's recesses, a skull would peek from within an embrace of leaves and twigs. the only thing left behind were tattered fabrics of his clothes, a rotting satchel, and a dagger so deeply rusted it had lost all carvings. it was peaceful in that little space as sunlight streamed warmly almost like a spotlight in this secret shrine. from what was seen, the owner of the skull had lived a life here. it was evident in the carvings on the trees and the deep pressed footprints that had flowers filling its shape.
they realised then that this was the king who outran fate.
mdni+tw: <<dark smut, forced extreme-ish pet play, mild anal, dumbification, non-con, drugging, threats of breeding and anal, mild spit, creampies, overstimulation, messy plot, possibly ooc carlos, not proofread, tba>>
☆/n: this is my cb post inspired by my sweet bunny cage - parasite garden (!!pirated hentai manga link!!) anddddd a gift fic for my fave @abadtzmaru 💙💙💙 hope you like it pookie wookie and sorry if it's all over the place :'
your finger pads were practically rubbed raw from having rolled the scroll wheel for hours on end. beggars shouldn't be choosers but my god were the listings on housesavail.com horrible. there was one with peeling yellowed wallpaper straight out of a 90s horror film, another with rat droppings smushed onto the wooden floors, and even one where the guy literally put 'female tenants only'. couldn't you have been more subtle in trying to lure in women who need a place to stay? no wonder he gets no victims (well at least you hoped so based on his very empty reviews and comments section on his listing page).
essentially you were running out of options and you had just received another notification from your landlord about your eviction notice. was it really that serious that she couldn't wait a few more fucking days for the rent that she had to kick you out? your teeth clicked and chattered against each other as you bit and crunched on them a little. a bad habit you should have kicked back in third grade. god this was driving you crazy. you felt the urge to itch at your hair. phantom hives from the stress. maybe ripping them straight out would help? your feet thumped endlessly against the floor mindlessly.
you kept scrolling, eyes flitting from one end of the screen to another. how did any of these even stay up? you groaned and rubbed your face harshly, feeling the burn of skin and the exhaustion pile behind your lids like lead weights. as you tried to continue down the rabbit hole of hellish availabilities, your tired hands accidentally smacks the mouse off the table. plastic clattered across wood and a whole chunk of it just popped off. this was it, your final straw. you felt tears burn in your eyes as you squatted to scoop the pieces back in your hands. why does everything have to go to shit? wish you could just stop thinking and have somebody do it for you. have someone to do everything for you so you wouldn't have to lift a finger.
wishful thinking surely.
you slumped back onto your chair, narrowly missing a full slide down to the floor. you adjusted yourself and looked at the screen to see a chat opened with user roomhaver43. huh? must've been an accidental posthumous decision on your mouse's part or...pre-humous? not important. you squinted and closed the chat only to be led back to their listing page.
the image that greeted your eyes almost made you moan from how beautiful it was. like a pin straight out of pinterest's wet dream. a soft white wallpaper, nice little matching shelves, a clean bed, and even a work/study area. all of it for a price you were able to pay every month. this had to be a scam of some sort but my god were you tempted. you kept rereading the terms and conditions and even reviews because there were some left below the listing.
"great roommate, super friendly guy who's down, and value for money"
those were essentially the summary of reviews left behind on the ad page. so naturally, you caved and decided to send the listing publisher a message.
needaplace69: hi, is the room available?
roomhaver43: yep, last roommate just left last week.
needaplace69: when will you be avail for a visit of sorts? kinda need a place asap...
roomhaver43: anytime is good. here's my phone number in case you lose your way
roomhaver43: (570) 398-0721
needaplace69: awesome! thanks :)
roomhaver43: ofc! see you soon :D
must be a pretty chill guy to use emoticons like that. you frowned when you caught yourself. why were you analysing his way of texting? to be fair...you did want to give him a little vibe check to gauge if he's one of those weird men trying to lure girls for weird shit or he's actually as chill as the reviewers said. you needed to check this out for yourself as soon as possible (and also because your landlord was beginning to kick up a fuss as they wanted to sell the place officially and move to the forests for a full rebirth of sorts. hell if you knew.)
so the next day, you went down to the location all while trying to lower your own expectations. it was a housesavail.com ad after all. imagine your surprise when you saw a pretty varnished dark oak door opened by a man you had to have seen in passing when walking by the magazine aisle. maybe some sort of sexiest male celebrity or model of the year on the cover of vogue perhaps?
"hey. thought you'd never come."
his voice was the equivalent of having warmed honey dripped directly into your ears. smooth, deep, and charming. you swallowed a little, trying to focus (not on the way his muscles seemed to ripple beneath his fitted black tee but rather the conversation at hand).
"sorry for being late. you're roomhaver43, right?"
you ask stupidly but to be fair, you were pretty sure anything would sound stupid when you're trying to talk to this fine specimen of a man.
"in the flesh. although Carlos is preferred."
he says, flashing you pearly whites framed by what had to have been a barber's wet dream. the perfect stubble. everything about this man was a wet dream if you're being honest. you followed him into his house and what you thought had to be a dream turned out to be even crazier. the room was exactly as shown on the site. absolutely stunning. you almost fell to your knees right then and there, probably burst into tears from how beautiful and pleasant smelling the room was. no rat droppings, no weird stains, perfectly pristine.
"so is everything to your liking?"
he asks from behind you, honeyed voice tickling your ears. you barely noticed how close he was standing.
"looks nice."
you say flashing him a smile, foot thumping soundlessly. a nervous tick of yours. that was the day the first chapter of your new beginnings in housing was logged. with the way it was going, you considered starting a shrine for your dead mouse to honor their posthumous services for landing you such an amazing place (and roommate). needless to say, you returned to his doorstep as soon as you packed your stuff and shifted out of your old place. things were good. lady luck has finally decided to drop a rabbit's foot your way.
"bunny...where'd you go?"
his voice was as firm as the tip of his index finger tapping against your forehead, accompanied by soft chuckles that rumbled in his chest. taunting you. he knew exactly where you were. the place you always went to when he splits you onto his thick cock over and over, even as your head was lolling backwards and nothing coherent left your lips. you felt the familiar numbing burn of his clenching his fingers in your hair, keeping your head upright so he could see the way your fully dilated pupils stare back at him all blank and stupid. and the way the bunny ears flopped with each thrust. god, he loved the way they flopped haphazardly, the band hidden in your hair made it look almost real. worth the amount he paid to make it as realistic as they come. he leaned forward and licked the drool that dribbled down your chin and the sides of your gagged lips as you grunted from behind it.
"it's mff- no use hah- hiding in there, bunny...you're here with me now."
he grunted, as he bounced you on his lap almost effortlessly. the sound of him filling and unfilling your used pussy filled your ears. he wanted you to feel as much as you could no matter how empty your pretty little head was. how could you leave him and hide inside your head when he's doing his darned hardest to keep his cute bunny sated and full to the brim. stupid stupid bunny. your mindless grunts only seemed to spur him on as he kept pushing into you.
"shit...your bunny pussy's so warm and sloppy..."
he groaned, rutting into you so deeply that the indent of your cervix practically moulds to fit the tip of his cock. a second hymen had he been able to go any further.
it began with his acts of service. small acts that made your heart flutter. he would always insist on getting things for you from the higher shelves and have dinner at the ready whenever you got home from work no matter the time.
"Carlos this is delicious but you really didn't have to do this."
you tell him, eyes filling with an instinctive guilt. you had been living by yourself for so long that the small little things he did felt like you were adding on to his chores.
"oh come on, i don't mind at all. i love cooking for others."
he would say or...
"you should get more used to receiving from others. it's not a bad thing to be treated with a little extra love every once in a while."
he had a silver tongue and a voice that could melt the coldest glaciers into puddles on the floor. it was easy to fall into his rhythm. let the walls you have put up from years of being alone, tired, and in a constant state of tension and stress beging to chip and crack.
and then the pet names began along with touches that seemed to linger. whether it was a hand to your lower back as he side stepped past you in the small kitchen or fingers tracing the smooth of your arms mindlessly as you watched movies. he would always call you bunny.
"bunny, how was work today?"
"bunny, i made dinner extra special today. wanna guess?"
"bunny, you even look cute when you're all angry. lighten up...i went into your room so i could help with your laundry."
bunny. god the way it just flowed from his lips so naturally. the way his brown eyes softened as he calls you by that.
so it came as no surprise when you began to grow dependent on him. gratuitous guilt morphing into a sickly simple sense of romantic attraction. you barely even questioned it, accepting more and more while barely wondering what you did to deserve it. you fell for it hook, line and sinker. he barely had to do much. maybe that was the innate loneliness he had the absolute pleasure of landing on.
sweet lonely little bunny.
"i have to get to work...how am i gonna pay you otherwise?"
you say jokingly on one of the days where he asks you to stay home. but the way his face remained stoic, absent of the usual softness when it came to you suddenly made the room feel stuffier and set your nerves on edge.
"i stopped asking you to pay months ago, bunny."
he says, as if it was the way it had always been. almost like you were more than just tenants or roommates. it was wrong. and there it was that stupid nickname again. you felt your stomach coil and the feeling of on edge blurring into a defensive anger. you hated how a slight change in his demeanor over your basic rights made you feel negatively. when did it become this way? when did he begin to take up so much space in your life to the point where he is now? like some sort of codependent parasite you have so often heard stories about in toxic relationships. you weren't even dating this guy.
"Carlos...this isn't right. you know it isn't. i can't keep owing you."
he shook his head firmly, looking even more ticked off than before.
"you don't owe me anything, it's my responsibility to care for you! why are you being so difficult?!'
his sudden increase in volume accompanied by the blow of his words made your head spin. you begin to remember all the times he did this. this whole crashing out thing after days of being pampered and spoiled rotten. it was almost like a disciplinary method. treats for obedience and firmness for the opposite. did he think you were some sort of pet? what does he mean by responsibility? god your head hurts. your vision began to swim. something's wrong.
"see isn't it easier to just be obedient? just surrender all those big big thoughts to me..."
his voice doubled and tripled like echoes in an emptiness before fading into a thin ringing. you felt the hardness of the tiles on your back and everything disappeared. it was the drink wasn't it? the water next to the breakfast he made for you.
when you woke up, your clothes had been replaced with a fluffy white dress. your arms were bound with some sort of smooth silky fabric and so were your legs. your head was still pounding but you struggles against the restraints.
"Carlos! what the fuck is this?!"
you yelled, thrashing around as you tried to move.
"uh uh uh bunny...language..."
he tutted, talking down to you as he walked closer, grabbing your chin with his larger hand and giving it a firm squeeze. one that you can't move in. he had never seen your eyes filled with so much hurt, betrayal, and rage. it sent a shiver down his spine and right up front where his cock nestled in his pants. he was going to tame you. make you go from the most suitable pet to downright perfect. like the bunny he used to have. the one who he'd hug to sleep. always so sweet and kind to him. it drives him crazy.
"bunny, i can't believe you finally came back. oh how i've missed you..."
he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against your soft cheeks. his stubble tickled as he sniffed your skin. the perfect mix of bunny, earthiness, and softness. so soft that the thought of sinking his teeth into it flashed through his mind. kind of like how he used to nibble on bunny's ears as he went to bed. on those nights before his alarm clock was replaced with gunshots and screams of the people around him.
a sharp stinging pain on your ass made you groan, a firm weight pushed your head into fabric. the pressure made it almost impossible to breathe. you could feel his rough warm fingers trace over the curve where your tailbone disappears into thicker flesh, lower and lower until it reaches your tail. or rather the furry cotton tail butt plug that came with the ears. you felt him tug at it just slightly before landing a few more smacks on your ass.
"so fucking cute...but i don't wanna break you so soon, bunny. we'll save this special hole for next time."
he chuckled as your ass clenched. your tail twitching had always been his favourite part of having that deep butt plug so snug inside you. he stared at the way your spine curved and your ass was up to him. you were so drugged out of your mind with the only thing left being your senses. no movement, no function in your body. just the constant stimulation of your senses. that mashed with the constant snapbacks between reality and the lingering past in your head was dizzying. you barely even knew what was real anymore. was it a dream? a fabrication? past or present?
as he plunged into your used twitching hole once more with the loudest sloppiest sound, you felt your mind go blank. he kept tugging your tail in and out to tease the rim of your snug little sphincter. your brain was all mush and you could see the stars tugging at the edge of your conscience. pulling you into the lulling comfort and tranquility of falling unconscious. falling back into the world of memories that your fucked up brain was left clinging onto as the rest was erased by the constant drugging and fucking you've endured.
the next thing you remember after the first day he made you into bunny officially was how he'd put a leash on you. one that was tied to the bed post. you could only go to the bathroom near the far end of his room and no where else. that was after the first time you'd try to run. he had made sure to chide you effectively as his fingers circled your clit for what felt like an infinity. driving you to the edge over and over and over again until all you could see were tears and your legs almost started cramping from twitching so much. you could still hear the pop of his lips as he lickes his fingers clean, getting harder under your ass from how perfect you taste.
and then how he whispered that he missed his bunny so so much. how you looked just like it. your ears, your tail, and your eyes. bunny was the only memory he had of a normal life before everything went to shit. before the movement, the bloodshed, and raccoon city, there was bunny. bunny reminded him of good times. times where he felt comfort and safety. where nights were soft blankets instead of rough polyester of his bloodstained clothes pressed against rubbled grounds.
Carlos had long struggled to regain control of his life after everyone left. nobody cared to check in on the chill friendly guy even after he survived horrors only few have seen. he'll do fine. that's what everyone thinks anyway. so he pushed all of it down. sleepless nights turned to bright laughs and casual jokes in the day while his ribs began to hollow as time passed. he was fine. he wasn't spiralling out of control.
and that's when you came along, all kind and sweet. always asking how his day was and seeing beyond his laughs. telling him that he looked tired and that he should rest. always seeing through him like it was the simplest most obvious thing in the world. and then there were your ticks, so reminiscent of a bunny...god it drove him crazy.
the thumping feet, the clicking teeth, and the way you stressed so easily. you needed someone to care for you and he needed someone to care for. kind of like how pets bring joy to their owners through service in exchange for companionship. you were going to be his new bunny. just like the one he had when he was young before it all went to shit.
you would be his new bunny for new beginnings.
he would mumble sometimes when he's too far gone, crying into your shoulder as he rutted into you over and over and over again. you never understood what he was talking about until you saw it. the frame at the furthest corner of his bedside table as he thrusted into you from behind. a picture of a little boy and a plush bunny. he was grinning with a tooth missing, holding the bunny up by it's ears. the picture was crumpled and stained with reddish brown splatters on it and around the edges. there was no way out. you had the misfortune of giving this man the same sense of comfort his plush bunny did and made him snap without even knowing. god knew how that even worked.
that was the same day you managed to snap the leash and make a break for it. your second attempt at escaping. he had left home for the day to head to work. you grabbed that stupid frame and smashed it onto the floor, sawing on the leather collar around your neck with a broken shard like a madman. not even caring when you nicked at your own skin. he was too trusting, having left you out of the cage and leaving the window unbarred.
you saw the moonlight after such a long time, the vold night air on your skin and the flush of grass beneath your soles. you started yelling for help and running as fast as your feet could carry you. not noticing the black hooded figure bounding towards you at a speed only millitary personnel who's been trained for ages would have. something someone like Carlos Oliveira was capable of. he caught you with ease, large gloved hand clamping over your lips.
"bunny...why would you keep running from me?"
his voice wavered as if he was genuinely hurt by the whole thing.
"you can't just run after saving me...you're the only thing that'll make things right. i can't...i can't lose you again. the last time you burned with the house...everything got so fucked up..."
your neck felt wet as he leaned into the crook of it. he was crying. of course it was a trap. and you fell for it. like a bunny to a hunter's snare. something sharp pierced the skin of your neck.
"i can't let you go, bunny. not when life feels like it means something again. not when i've known what it's like to wake up with you by my side..."
he murmured against your neck, kissing the needle pricked spot as if it was a cut that needed to be kissed better. your vision began to swim.
the curve of his veiny dick rubbed against the inside of your walls as he chanted prayers of how perfect you were and how you were his. forever and always. it was almost excruciating, especially since all you had were overstimulated senses and nothing else. no thoughts, no movement, full vulnerability. he gave your hips a firm squeeze before sheathing himself inside you fully, tugging the chain of your leash to hold you in place against him as he spurted his hot seed for what felt like the millionth time that night. you could feel it oozing down the sides of where his cock ended despite how snug of a fit he was. he smiled and wiped away at his forehead sweat as he pulled out, breath ragged. he used his two fingers to scoop the splurting cum from your pussy lips and keep it back inside.
"seeing your tummy all rounded and full is tempting but...i would rather your attention stay undivided. i'm the only thing that should be in that cute little head alright?"
he says before kissing you on the mouth, tongue slipping your daily pills down your throat. he carefully plugged you up and let you lay on the bed. in the haze between your wake and sleep, you barely registered the warm scented wet towel he used to clean you thoroughly and how he was now all cleaned up with damp curls as he hugged you close to his cool fresh from the shower body. he stroked your unfeeling ears and gently tucked your hair behind your ears.
☆/n: dedicated to the lovely ruru @laceycoffins love you to the moon and back pooks ❤️ and special thanks to chrissi @ghostsghoul for proofing and tolerating my nonsense as always 🫶 love you sm!
sometimes when he closes his eyes, he can still hear the deafening cheers and the mild feedback of the microphone ringing. he felt alive. the feeling of tank tops sticky against muscular skin, the weight of his guitar tugging on his shoulders, and the thrill at the thought of an afterparty where he can wet his dick thrums throughout his body. he was on top of the world and nothing could bring him down.
well at least...until it did. firm tapping on his shoulder roused him from his slumber. he grunted in protest as his eyes opened all bleary. his head hurt and so did his joints. the face of the seedy bar attendant came into view and boy was he unhappy. Leon still remembers the smile the dude used to have when he came in. eyes all starstruck as he asked for a picture. how long ago was that? his head hurt when he tried to think.
"Mr Kennedy you can't sleep here. you have to go home."
the guy's voice was stern as he yanked Leon out of his seat. the metal pendant of Leon's necklace clinked against one of the many glasses on the table. the metal pendant with the BIOHAZARDS symbol. girls used to be all over it. even had someone ask him if he'd choke her with it (which he of course did because he could never say no to a good time). he stumbled out of the bar, swaying unsteadily on his feet. this level of inebriation had become a norm. he wouldn't be surprised if his liver decides to tap out permanently the way he's drinking. like he's still at his prime.
he remembers clearly how everyone used to give up everything they had for a chance to bed him. he was revered almost like a deity back in the day. and now just like a disgraced deity, he had fallen from grace. or rather, he was now living as a washed up rockstar who's haunted by his former glory. he will never be at the pinnacle of his life again. oh how he missed it. but then again when he does try, he still got to bring girls home. just not for long because his dick doesn't work like it used to and he was often too buzzed to eat cunt properly without gagging and feeling nauseous from the effort.
but of course, hollywood is an elusive oasis in the desert. one moment you're guzzling down cold water with the sweltering heat of the open sands at the back of your mind. and another, you're coughing up sand from drinking the tides of an illusion. he remembers the day that marked his downfall like it was yesterday. his manager was sitting next to their new producer. a big guy with a grin that will haunt him for the rest of time. Leon still feels sick thinking about it.
Leon remembers, taking a seat opposite them. flicking his sweaty blonde hair out of his eyes and meeting the man's gaze. he remembers his heart pounding in his chest from both the post concert rush and the chills that this man gave him. his stomach hurt from the anxiety. something that had happened when he first walked on stage. back when he was auditioning for a spot in the BIOHAZARDS. that was so long ago. his hair was still brown back then too.
"Leon...what a pleasure to meet you. i've heard lots of things about you."
i'm the top rockstar of the century, who hasn't?
the thought crossed his mind but he held his tongue. that meeting led to a one on one drinking session. the producer kept being so touchy, whispering of unimaginable popularity if only he gave in. gave in to what? Leon wanted to ask but instead he reached for his bubbling drink and took a gulp. a mistake that he would bear the consequences of for the rest of his days.
he has never felt so sick in his life. his limbs felt leadened and his head spun. he couldn't stand. the producer took Leon's arm and draped it around his shoulders. he was whispering something, large thick fingers ghosting down Leon's spine. what was he saying? he felt like fainting. god what's happening right now?
somebody help!
please!
anyone?!
Leon swore he was being loud. as loud as he can to get himself away from the big bad producer. but all that came out from his lips were small groans with no semblance of meaning or coherence. the producer laughs in his ears, a sound that sounded so distorted as Leon's eyes closed. he remembers being brought to the toilet in the vip section before he blacked out entirely.
when Leon woke up, all he felt was a sharp pain. his head spun and there was a vile taste in his mouth. he remembers hurling onto the cold tiles for what felt like hours, the strain from doing so sending jolts of pain throughout his body. he tried to stand but he slipped and fell back to the floor. it hurts. he had never felt such pain before. not even when he crashed his car from driving after partying so hard and almost breaking his spine for good.
his jeans clung to his legs uncomfortably as he crawled on the floor, reaching for the sink to pull himself up. he felt tears start to run down his face. he vaguely remembers calling out for his mom. he hadn't done that in a long time. he stopped after a few times. momma didn't deserve to see such a sight as she rests in heaven. men shouldn't cry. they should toughen it out and stand up. even when the front of their jeans smelled like piss, and the back, a large dark red patch that stuck to the back of their thighs.
he washed his face, scrubbing the sticky filthy skin raw as he splashed the cold water enough times to almost waterboard himself. he remembers looking in the mirror and screaming, smashing his knuckles into glass. the skin of his knuckles were still fucked to this day. he remembers curling on the bathroom ground and crying.
the rest of it was almost a blur. he remembers a picture of himself, passed out face squished between thick ringed fingers. white cum dripped from his swollen lips and lathed his skin in a way that made him look absolutely defiled. he looked more like an up and coming pornstar rather than his rightful title of world's biggest rockstar. the producer man grinned hauntingly as he dangled that photo over Leon's head. also the many many times after, that he pushed Leon's face into the ground to muffle his screams as he took it from behind.
the burn of untrained sphincter muscles stretching so wide to fit fat cocks from creepy men as they passed him around. he feels his dick shrink each time they keep pumping him to the brim and laughing as his dick doesn't harden. too much pain from the other end to even find pleasure. he remembers blood, drugs, and hands. so many of them. groping every inch of his skin, tugging at it as if to tear him apart. and the voices too. whispering how he was taking it like a bitch, how his dick doesn't harden because he was meant to be played with by older more mature men, and getting pumped so full of their seed he might break the laws of science and get pregnant.
Leon woke up in a pool of his own drool and hurl from the night before on the floor of his own home. he hugged his knees to his chest as he shivered and stared at the wall. the ache in his head blurred his vision. he found himself doing that alot lately. just sitting on the floor and staring at the wall as his head replays that man’s voice like a cruel torment. the only time it stopped was when he thought of how easy it would be to place the cold metal barrel of his Smith & Wesson model 350 against his forehead and just press down on the trigger. and when he drinks. so like the cowardly bastard that he was, he opted for a slower death by drinking like a fish. a very alcoholic one.
after slamming down a few painkillers and dragging himself to the shower, he began rubbing his skin raw. he found himself wondering what everyone else was up to nowadays. going from checking in on him ever so often to just…simply forgetting about him. he knew they had families now. last he heard some even had kids. hell even that bastard of a producer’s face was plastered all over the papers next to a young wife and two little kids. everybody had moved on with their lives while Leon was all alone in a time capsule buried back in the 2000s. one that was sealed haphazardly so much so that it was starting to rot from the inside out.
he needed a drink.
when he got out of the house, it was already dark. time flew so quickly when he sat around dreaming about the end, always leaving the house when it’s dark. he wondered how his bones had not surrendered to the clutches of rheumatism from sitting in the tub until the water's all cold and his skin's all wrinkled. dressed simply in his worn black leather jacket atop a casual white tee and black denim pants, he clutched the metal of the BIOHAZARDS pendant dangling between his chest. the once sharp edges bit into his palm, time having chipped them to a comforting dullness. as much as he resented being stuck all alone in his head, he's happy for his friends. they made it out just fine. maybe the secret to that was leaving him behind. out with the Leon and in with the new he liked to think.
stumbling to the same seedy bar, he whipped out his black card and started a new tab. he slid into a booth and waited for the arrival of his usual order. he wonders if the money will ever run out. he supposed he should be thanking those streaming apps for letting cash flow in for him continuously.
spotting him was easy. he stood out like a wolf’s snout shrouded in sheep’s wool. your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him from afar. the way he sat with a slight forward lean and his legs spread wide, how his hands seemed to tremble as he brought the glass of amber to his lips, and the glint of the metal pendant hanging from his neck. swaying just like the one you had on. you took in a deep breath and tugged at your fitted shirt to smoothen away the crease. your legs felt cold from how short your skirt was as you began walking up towards him. the dark stormy clouds in your expression made way to the sweetest smile you could muster. this was it.
“excuse me?”
you greet softly, leaning down a little towards him. the older man in front of you pushed the stray greying hairs out of his eyes and turned towards you. his instinctive frown fizzled away and his blue eyes swept down your eyes to your tits. you stifled a grimace.
“yeah?”
his voice was almost hoarse as he tore his eyes away from your cleavage to meet your eyes, throat bobbing as he swallowed.
"oh my gosh hi! i'm so sorry but you’re leon, right? BIOHAZARDS Leon?"
was he having one of those past visions again? hallucinating groupie voices that stemmed from nowhere else but the back of his own decrepit mind. but this hallucination was so vivid. he could see you, the girl standing in front of him with the sweetest smile and pair of tits he had seen in a while. an angel. he began to sit up straighter, lips tugging into a smirk he used to wear in his glory days.
"who's asking, sweetheart?"
his voice drawled with a mild gravel. the kind someone had when they hadn’t talked in a while or when their throat is all fucked from the constant burn of liquor being poured down there. he pats the space next to him without thinking twice, primal instincts kicking in. was god finally giving him a fair hand tonight?
"i am such a hugeee fan of you and the BIOHAZARDS! i'm not intruding or anything am i?"
man, your voice. it stirred something in him. reminded him of the way girls used to flock at him and coo in his ears, desperate for even a sliver of attention as they pushed and shoved at each other like a pack of feral hyenas. you looked so nervous, clutching at the pendant that almost disappeared between the dip of your cleavage. a pendant he too was wearing. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and physically tore his eyes away from your tits (again).
"of course not, doll. i'm always happy to meet fans. especially pretty ones like yourself."
you giggled and it has his heart racing. how pathetic. a man pushing 50 who's hanging onto the every word of a girl so much younger. he was old enough to be your dad for fuck’s sake. he felt you shift closer against him, warmth seeping through his jacket. he could have sworn he felt his dick twitch. it has really been a while since he's been so close to such a cute girl. his eyes raked the curve of your spine down to the silhouette of your ass dipping into the plush leather seat. he missed the way your fingers dropped a tiny tablet into his drink, the amber liquid fizzing in the glass.
the more he talked to you, or rather, mostly listened to you prattle on and gush while he echoed every few words you ended your sentences with to respond, the more familiar you felt. he couldn't seem to place it. and then there were those flashes of something in your eyes. a look that made his blood thrum in his veins. he felt like he knew you. or rather...he had fucked someone just like you before. he watched as your eyes followed his hands as he tipped his drink back, making the same mistake he did all those years ago.
after a few minutes, he began to feel dizzy, head spinning and limbs growing heavier. oh god, he thought to himself, just how much did i drink? your voice began to muffle and you looked concerned, leaning closer to him and shaking his arm. he felt like he was watching you from a screen inside himself, his heart hammering between his ribs as his body began to shut down.
“Leon?! can you hear me? oh my gosh, are you okay?!”
you whisper with an urgency, shaking him. but it was no use. his mouth felt like it was moving in slow motion, his brain thick and syrupy. and then it all became such a quick blur. like isolated scenes of a film playing out with glaring gaps. he felt you putting his arm around your shoulder. he remembered slumping over, nose buried in your neck. where were you bringing him? what was happening? he felt a familiar sense of nausea and icy cold shoot through his nerves. is this his doing? after all this years…why was the producer coming back for him? how did he find him?
his head throbbed and the next time he opened his eyes, his blurry vision registered the blur of your face. there was many of you moving in a way that made him feel motion sick. he gagged, hands pressed against cold tiles to prop him up.
“Leon, you still with me?”
your whispery voice doubled in his static filled ears as you stood over him, fingernails digging in his scalp as you yanked his head back. he could smell your perfume, nauseatingly sweet as you leaned so close to his face.
“aww you look so pathetic like this…are you actually crying right now?”
you cooed in a tone filled with mocking and bitterness, enough to send a shiver through him.
“you really are a piece of shit. crying after ruining MY life.”
his eyes were glossy and his cheeks were wet with tears. you laughed humorlessly, slapping his cheeks firmly. he groaned incoherently, jaw unable to move from being gripped so tight in your fingers, nails stabbing into his skin.
“consider this a family reunion mom would have loved.”
you tell him and his face scrunches, lips struggling to ask the many questions racing through his mind. you took the bottle of liquor from the sink counter. the one you swiped from his table earlier. it was half empty and you brought the rim to his lips.
“drink up, daddy.”
you say, tipping the content down his barely functioning mouth. he chokes, splutters the liquid all over your bare legs and the floor. you sucked in air through your teeth, as if chiding him for being so messy.
“and you’d think an alcoholic would be able to handle their alcohol better.”
you scoff, squeezing his jaw open and pouring the alcohol down his throat as he squirmed and grunted. the liquid sloshed down his throat, his nose, and the front of his white tee, turning it a translucent beige as it clung to his skin. he gasped, gagging a little as it dripped down his face, ends of his hair holding crystalline beads of it as well. you pressed the emptied bottle’s rim against his lips, shoving at it almost hard enough to split skin.
“open up, daddy. need you to suck this for me, hm?”
he pressed his lips shut, vein in his jaw throbbing from how hard he had gnashed his teeth together. you laughed.
“daddy, i can make this worse for you. shove it up your ass without any lubrication. so behave, okay? or i will break your teeth in and use the blood from that instead.”
your words made his blood run cold, goosebumps raised all over his skin. he was too weak to fight back right now so in addition to being forced to suck on glass bottles like it was dick, Leon was stuck remembering the familiarity of the situation in more ways than one. he choked and winced as you thrusted the neck of the bottle down his throat, gagging as drool slid down the sides. his teeth made ear grating sounds as it rubbed against the smoothness of the glass.
he looked up at you through tears and headache, the hate in your eyes was burning. burning like a fire he had seen before. like a ghost coming back to haunt him. who are you? and who’s mom? were you just some fatherless freak who liked playing family as you broke your victims in?
once you were satisfied with how slicked the bottle is, you kicked him off of it. he landed on the ground, rib first and grunted softly.
“resting already? you really are old, aren’t you, daddy? on all fours, come on…need it to hurt in every way when you can think again.”
he shakily obliged, not knowing why. he should be crawling to the door, screaming for help. but somehow, the familiarity of this intense situation was making his ears ring. he could still feel the way those thick ringed fingers felt as they trailed down his body, twisting his nipples as a fat vile disgusting cock was speared through his ass. his body began to shake again. he felt you moving behind him, the bottom of the bottle clinking softly as it bounced over each crack and groove of the tiles. your hands gripped onto the soft of his waist tightly, fingers looping into his waistband and tugging his jeans down.
his breath was leaving him, heart pumping so fast he thought he was gonna finally die. he felt his body tense up so stiffly as soon as the cold air hit his ass. he felt his dick kick from the cold too.
“please...stop...i’m sorry…”
his voice was hoarse, pleading in a last ditch attempt. but it seemed like he had sealed his fate as soon as those words left his bruised lips.
“sorry? sorry?! oh daddy…you’re just as mom said. a selfish prick. you’re not sorry. you just want me to feel bad and let you go.”
he felt cold slippery fingers wrap around his dick, your stomach pressing against the curve of his ass. you laid down on his back and began pumping his softened dick.
“well too bad. you should have let her go when she begged, but you decided to break her. teach her a lesson she did not deserve. all because she gave a blow to your ego that you couldn’t stand.”
your words were bitter but the movement of your hands mixed with the fear in his veins were slowly raising his dick (like a necromancy ritual of sorts). he gritted his teeth and let out a strained grunt. the warmth and weight of your body on his back made his chest feel weighted and heavy. tears blurred his vision once more.
“so take it, like an obedient little slut. isn't that what you told her?”
you whisper against his shirt before shoving the bottle’s rim past the tight ring of his muscles. he let out a pained breathless whine, his spine curving as the pain began to hit him. god he was shaking and crying so bad he felt like his body wasn’t even on the ground anymore. like he had left his body and is seeing this unfold from an outsider’s perspective. your warmth and weight had left his back and he felt a glob of spit hit his burning hole as it stretched around the glass.
“relax, daddy…don’t wanna break the glass this far up your guts.”
you gritted out as one hand pumped his dick while the other kept pushing the bottle in. the stretch made the back of his thighs tense so hard it began to cramp, his soft stomach ached from how sick he felt. it went on for what felt like forever. the burn began to disappear but he was still shaking like a leaf. and despite it all, he began to harden in your hands. quiet broken moans and whimpers left his lips as you thrusted into him and milked his cock. it was almost starting to feel good.
“gonna make you cum from this so you remember what it’s like to be fucked from behind. and how you fucking liked it. although seeing the way your ass is practically swallowing this bottle, i’d say you’ve quite the experience.”
your voice and implication was all a blur of white noise to him as the thick syrupy feeling in his brain began to increase tenfold. all he could focus on was breathing, keeping himself propped up, and the sweetly growing pleasure that was beginning to spread throughout his nerves. he sounded so stupid, soft slutty waist squirming each time the ridges grazed that spot in his ass that had his vision blanking.
you hissed and stuffed two fingers down his throat to shut him up, making him gag and his skin flush even deeper. his dick twitched in the air, balls reddening from the desperation to release in the midst of losing the much needed friction. his hands began to shake and he found himself face down on the ground, ass arched up to take even more of the bottle. she felt you spank him a few times, each flinch of his making his hard throbbing dick rub against the cold tiles deliciously.
"wait...stop...wait-"
in a particularly hard thrust, he yelled. his vision going dark and warmth shooting onto his bare stomach as his dick grinded on the tiles. it kept coming, washing over his whole being in a convulsing and groaning pleasure to the point where everything went dark entirely. the bottle pulled out of his gaping ass, bits of leftover alcohol dripping down as he slumped onto the ground out cold.
you slipped your phone out of your purse and snapped a picture, face void of emotion, before you placed your phone on the marble countertop. squatting down, you pulled his pants up and propped him up against the wall. everyone would just think he passed out drunk. just like the alcoholic that he was known to be.
only he’ll live with the knowledge of your little family reunion.
you snuck out of the bar that day feeling emptier than when you started. an aching cold shrouding the deepest depths of your chest. so much so that you didn’t even remember to take the hot pink cased phone haphazardly tossed on the sink counter, charm clinking against the marble.
Siiiiiighs.... I need either stepdad or stepbrother Chris Redfield to finger his step-daughter or sister's needy ovulating cunny because she's been fantasizing about his fingers and he's all teasing with her saying "I dunno, my fingers are quite big..." as she so casually rubs one out right in front of him
Sorry if it's blunt or if you're not taking anything right now 😶
☆/n: sorry this took ages and i hope you like it anon tysm for the req!! sorry if it's too much uh...licking and less fingering or if it's just horrible in gen feel free to hate 😔
the scratchiness of his stubble between your legs as he sucked and lapped at your throbbing clit felt like heaven. he had your thighs naturally stretched apart to accommodate his broadness, calves hanging limp as it dangled over his hunched shoulders. your body was still slightly lifted off of the bed despite how low he was leaning down to slurp at your cunt. you bite your lip to stifle a moan, mind sifting between the warmth of his calloused palm pushing your lower back upwards to meet his tongue to the almost dizzying vigor at which he suckled and lapped at your embarassingly wet slit.
"Chris..."
you whined as your fingers gripped into his prickly cropped hair, subconsciously pushing him closer for him to bury his whole lower face into your depths. he groaned softly, looking into your eyes as he licked a lewd stripe up your pussy again, tip of his tongue toying with your puffed out clit. he was edging you, enjoying the way you teetered between a whining need and a huffed out state as you sought for the all too familiar high of cumming.
"doing so good for me, baby sis...."
he spoke into your pussy, purposefully slurping it louder afterward. the combination of his voice vibrating and him sucking you raw had you keening out a mewl.
"stop using that head of yours, hm? let big brother do the thinking."
his words sent a rush down your spine, a hiss leaving through your gritted teeth. the throbbing ache of holding your weird position and the way blood pooled towards your skull mixed with how he was practically devouring you was almost too much to bear. your hole twitched, making him let out a soft chuckle.
"your pussy's twitching, baby. something you wanna tell me?"
he asks gently in that brother-ly tone which from anyone else in a different context would have been endearing. from him, however, it drives you crazy. you felt your body warm even more than before. it was true. despite how good it felt, the beast inside you (your ovulation horniness) is aching for something to fill you up. even though you've never had dick in your life.
"need something inside..."
you say hoarsely, eyes half lidded as tears glittered on your lashes. he swallows softly, giving you a tender smile as he reaches to wipe your needy tears away.
"are you sure? we don't have that much time for prep and i don't wanna hurt you."
he says, peppering kisses over your inner thighs as he looked at you. he gently nipped and sucked a mark onto the plush skin. his proximity and your unfulfilled high made you feel even needier, fingers reaching to toy with your clit as your hips bucked instinctively.
"your fingers, Chris. been thinking about them..."
you said with effort, letting out soft gasps of breath as your clit throbbed beneath the soft circular motions of your finger pads. god you looked so needy, he could feel his erection throb insanely. if only he had time, he would have prepared you so good. his hefty dick would have slipped in without worry, and he could finally live out his dreams of pressing his palm against your lower tummy as he pounded into you. his precious beloved step-sister. but all that had to wait. he would never do that to you without prep. the mere thought of hurting you was enough to set him away from the idea.
"i don't know, sweetheart...my fingers are still pretty thick. you sure about this?"
he asked you, the worry evident in his tone. you felt insane. how was he speaking in such a levelled way when you could clearly see the way his dick was threatening to tear through his boxers with how engorged it was. you could definitely take it. bounce on it too despite how inexperienced you were because honestly, how hard can it be? (spoken like a true ovulating virgin on her worst day of the cycle).
"please Chris...wanna feel it inside..."
you whined almost petulantly, fingers speeding up as you rubbed your clit. the wet clicking sounds of your slicks smearing over your pussy was driving him crazy. it was like the ticking clock in your room. a reminder that time was ticking and the rest of the Redfield family were going to be home from Claire's dress finding spree for her upcoming senior year college fest.
one that you gave a miss due to a pounding migraine followed by Chris volunteering to stay behind to help in case of anything. turns out, his way of helping was searching up unorthodox ways of solving migraines and stumbling upon masturbation as a solution. he was not going to pass on an opportunity to bury his face into your sweet and needy pussy. a recreational activity turned addiction after it first started.
he bit his lip and began to lower his body down, lying on his stomach as he prodded at your juicy cunt tentatively. he rubbed his fingers over your slick coated lips, sinking deeper and deeper as the tips of his huge fingers caught against your swollen clit. this elicited a soft gasp from you every time. one he would never tire of hearing. he clenched his other fingers and pushed one slowly into you.
he wasn't lying when he told you his fingers were big. you could feel a stretch as he slowly twisted his way in, making sure to coat his fingers in saliva and your slick to make it less uncomfortable. he thrust his finger into you slowly, eyes watching for your every reaction. your teeth were gritted, and he could feel how you were clenched so tight around him.
"you're doing so well, sweetheart. wrapping so tight around my fingers. need you to relax, okay?"
he murmured, nosing your clit as he slid deeper and curled his fingers up. he began suckling on your clit again, increasing the amount of wetness gushing from your slit as he thrusted with a rhythm. his curled fingertip brushed against a spot that made you squirm a little harder. found it, he thought to himself. so as he began to slowly thrust into you, he introduced a second finger. the stretch around it makes you wince a little.
he was about to ask if he should stop when you shook your head. eyes shining and hazy.
"m'okay. s'just mngh- a little stretch...hah-"
you pant out, he stifled a little smile at how cute you were. he pressed his hand against the top of your mound, two fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy and tongue circling with a lazy precision around your clit and fold. he placed his whole mouth onto the upper part of your cunt, eating it messily as he repeated a cycle of spitting and slurping. his stubble glimmered in the dim lighting of your room. now his freed hand was gripping onto the plush of your ass to elevate your lower half.
schlicking sounds mixed with your moans as they grew louder, voice stuttering each time he pulled his curled fingers against that sweet spongy spot deep inside you. your mind was beginning to fuzz.
"ah- Chris! Chris s-so ngh- good!"
you moan out brokenly, back arching and thighs threatening to drown him between them. he began rubbing his painful bulge against the mattress. your sounds mingling with the way you taste was sending him to heaven. pretty sure it'd take him a hot minute to realise because of how it wouldn't be much different from drowning in the depths of your squelching pussy. but then again, he was eating out his step-sister so...maybe not heaven. not that the difference mattered.
he continued thrusting and curling his fingers into you, the coil in your lower belly tightening so much he could have sworn he heard it creak the way a metal spring does. your back was arching off the bed as your nails tugged deliciously at his scalp. he ate with a fervour where he was supposed to have been tired out. he ignored the building ache in his jaw and the strained feeling of his tongue, fuelled by how good you looked as you began to unravel.
"Chris- hah- move off! i'm gonna-"
he barely heard you, suckling deeper as you tried to push him off. and when he finally did, his dark gaze was drunken as spit and your slick dripped back from his lips down to your pussy. that image combined with a final curl against your sweet spot has you orgasming so hard, you started seeing spots in your vision. your thighs were twitching. he gently patted at your overstimulated pussy to ease it as he pulled his dripping fingers out. sucking them clean with a groan as he swallowed.
he creaked softly as he sat up, holding onto your red beard burned thighs which were littered in bites and marks. he leaned in closer to catch your lips in his. he needed you to know how good you tasted. a primal need to see you messy and smeared with your release like he was. you pant softly as you swirl your tongue against his, fingers ghosting up the firmness of his back sinews and spine before looping comfortably around his nape.
"you did so well, baby sis..."
he whispers once both of you have calmed down reasonably, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
"mhm...gonna be able to take your dick next..."
you mumbled tiredly through half lidded eyes as you nuzzled closer against him. if he wasn't still sobering up from how pussy-drunk you got him, he might have gotten hard again. so he chuckled softly.
"well, that's why you're my favourite sister."
as you slept like a log, Chris got up and got a wet wash cloth. he cleaned you up gently and put some lotion for the beard burns just in case. he cracked his stiffened joints into place and pressed a kiss to your head. your proud little comment about taking his dick next kept replaying in his mind. he was so taking you up on that challenge. especially since the front of his boxers was all sticky and dark (embarassingly so) from imagining and rutting against your mattress earlier. maybe he should go and get some actual lube after he's done solving the above average problem you've caused him by being such a migraine.
tw: <<angst, mild religious guilt, blasphemous thoughts (?)>>
☆/n: here's a short angsty fic for my second promised pride fic because i had a happy version of this story but it sucks so i redid it and made it sad because i'm upset.
you often wondered what people saw when they closed their eyes in prayer. some say it's a serene black, others say a soft light that brings holy to the soul. you asked your best friend what she sees and she says, the crucifix. bathed in the myriad coloured light of the old church's stained glass window. she tells you that it shows you what your heart truly yearned for. and as you sat on the pew with the crucifix's shadow looming over your being, hands clasped together and eyes squeezed shut, all you saw was your best friend. Ashley Graham.
the first time you met Ashley was after sunday school in the summer of '93. you were feeling bored in class as the sister droned on and on about things you've already learned about. so you did the routine you had mastered perfectly. drop your pen, stoop down to the floor to take it, crawl all the way to the open door and out the hallway in record time all while Sister Susan was tracing her chalk on the board. it was like taking candy from a baby, really. once you made it out, you tiptoed carefully on the clacky tiles of the hallway and made it out the backdoor of the old church building. the sudden barrage of sunlight albeit soft made you squint and the breeze blew onto your skin and hair. you loved being at the back of the church. from the tall overgrown grass to the wildflowers and to the little bugs you often found crawling the hem of your sunday school dress that fell just below your knees. it was your own little world with nobody to bother you. you could skip pebbles into puddles, frolick without care, and even take a nap as long as you wake up by the time it ends and join the queue of children streaming out of the class to go home. it was perfect.
"hi."
a soft voice greeted from behind you, causing you to jolt and slowly turn around, fearful of being caught. a pair of forest green eyes met your gaze one that glittered like the dew covered grass beneath the sun.
"are you gonna tell on me?"
that was the first thing that you thought to say as you faced what had to be an angel from the heavens itself. it was no wonder that you had no friends in this circle. or any other circle, really. she shook her head.
"i'm not supposed to be here either."
she says. you looked at her with caution in your eyes, but the full alert your body was on previously began to soften even if just a little. you both sat on a grassy patch in the grass. you wondered if you should tell her your deepest prayers for her to bring to god. maybe angels worked the same way express delivery did. you know, the kind where you pay the paper boy an extra penny or two for him to throw your paper first. but you could barely speak.
"you're staring at me."
she says, tilting her head. you blinked, feeling your face warm. you sat back and faced forward.
"sorry. i've never seen an angel up close before."
you mumbled, tongue feeling like weighted lead in your mouth. she giggles in a mix of confusion and amusement. you don't think you'd ever tire of it.
"my name's not angel, silly. i'm Ashley! Pastor Graham's daughter."
she says, holding out her hand towards you. you looked at it hesitantly before enveloping it in your own. clammy in comparison, which was strange. your palms had never been sweaty before. despire the relatively odd start of your friendship with the pastor's daughter, it only began to blossom deeper.
"have you ever thought about love?"
she asks you one day, head laying on your shoulder as you both leaned against the bark of the old orange tree in the spring of your late highschool years. love. what an easy question. to you, love was Ashley Graham of course. but instead, you opted for a more vague response.
"well love is what you feel for god and those dear to you. what else is there to it?"
you said, focusing on the bright orange skin you were peeling with your fingers. Ashley's always said that you were the best orange peeler she'd ever met. you told her she was the best orange eater. and you meant it. you decided to think about that instead of how the scent of the orange vanilla in her hair as she leaned her head so close to you seem to makr your heart flutter like a caged butterfly within your ribs.
"well in that case, i love you."
she says with resolution. as if that was the only answer that was right and nobody could tell her otherwise. the orange in your hands almost slipped between your stilled fingers. you gulped softly and began peeling at it again, this time opting to ignore the mild tremor that seemed to show itself in your every breath.
"i love you too, Ash."
you say, smiling softly. more than she'd ever know. she loved you the way someone begins to fall in love with their reflection, finding solace in similarities and closeness, like a sister would her sister. but you? you loved her the way a sinner loved his vices. you knew it was wrong. wrong because god said so but you were in too deep to ever leave its iron clutches. she was the warmth in your blood, the weight beneath your breastbone, and the air that you breathe. she consumed you in your wake and sleep.
and yet there you were, painting rouge across her milky skin. faces close enough to have taken the place of the man who she was about to be wedded to. you could feel your eyes sting. pieces of your heart cracking and chipping off with every stroke of the brush.
"do you think he'd say it?"
'i do'? he'd be a fool if he didn't. what you wouldn't do to take his place. she would have never doubted your response. not for a second. because she would have known how your heart resides in the palms of her hands, your every vein and artery wrapped around her fingertips.
"in a heartbeat."
you tell her, using your willpower to tug at the corners of your lips. if she saw through you, she didn't say anything. your fingers lightly lifted her chin upwards as you traced the lipstick over her pink lips. as your eyes studied each swipe, her eyes were on you. you wanted so badly to just close the gap, press her lips against yours and take her hand to run away out of the church with you instead of him. you wanted to tell her that you'd love her until the end of your days. through health and illness. till death do us part. but instead, you stepped back and gave her a once-over. followed by a thumbs up.
"you look stunning. he's gonna fall in love with you all over again."
because you sure did. she smiled at that, eyes filled with sincerity and belief. you felt yourself almost crumble.
"thank you."
she tells you sweetly. you lifted her veil of the table and gently placed it onto her golden hair. she looked like an angel. just like she did the first time you met her. you wanted to whisper to her your truest prayers and let it lift into the sky. see her wings and beg her to take you with her. but alas, she sees god in him the way you saw god in her. with the truest of loves your hearts could humanly muster.
and so you stood there behind her, smiling through the hot tears that rolled down your face as your fingers dug into the bunched up stems of her pristine white bouquet which encircled an orange chrysanthemum in the middle. the same shade of those oranges you used to peel for her so tenderly. just like the type of love it symbolised. a confession concealed within symbolic petals of which she knew not the true meaning.
as her lips pressed against his amidst the cheering and clapping of the crowds, you said it. unspoken words that held you shackled to her very feet now spoken like a key loud enough for her to hear alone.
"i love you, Ash. forever and always."
she turned to face you with a look of stunned silence as she realised. followed by a tearful silence everyone thought to be moved or touched when you ended your maid of honour speech with the same words. everyone clapped as you gazed back into her teary eyes with your very own, smile leaving a bitter taste in your throat reminiscent of bile.
you left after dinner that day a freed woman. one who felt the cold of loneliness greeting her beyond the rusted metal bars of her prison cell that she put herself in the moment she fell in love with the pastor's daughter. you knew deep down that as much as you could learn to love freedom, your love for Ashley Graham was something you could never unlearn.
☆/n: belated birthday gift for @rigorwhoring and special thanks to @bitepoint for the crazy idea tossing and inspirations! love you both! ENDING PRIDE MONTH OFF WITH A BANG (literally)! hope yall enjoy reading as much as i did writing this horny fic ♡
she had to have been a deity in her past life with the way her name lives in everyone's head and flies from mouth to mouth. everywhere you went, it was just Ashley this and Ashley that. not that it was surprising considering how her face and allegedly teeth rottingly sweet personality was highlighted in every sentence of every article ranging from politics to teen magazines. hell, she might even be more recognised than her dad, and he was Graham. as in the president of the country, Graham.
sure, she was gorgeous and allegedly sweet but...you always had this nagging feeling in the back of your mind at the thought of her. the kind reminiscent of red alarm bells going off to warn people of a fire. something about her never sat right with you, and you weren't alone on this.
"she's definitely hiding something. i mean she's practically a part of the government by association, and we all know how sketchy they can be..."
your fiery haired best friend scoffed, leaning back into her seat and tucking away a loose strand of her hair before sipping on her hot sugarless black coffee. her dietary preferences radiated the vibe of a man hardened by the military. you suppose that's what being raised by a single brother in the military system does to someone. nothing bad of course, just a little silly to think about given her age in contrast to her spitfire personality, rugged outfits, and general life preferences.
"well, you're not wrong...she has to own like some sort of rights to the black market or something-"
Claire snorted, swatting you on the arm at your morbid sense of humour, which earned her a laughter from you.
"and you call me a conspiracy fanatic."
you giggled at that, leaning against her arm that was behind your shoulder and sipping from your own iced coffee.
"so... have you heard from your brother yet? you mentioned something about a classified mission, right?"
you asked her, leaning in a little. her smile faltered and she shook her head.
"nope. haven't for a while now. last he called was about a scholarship- oh shit..."
Claire froze, her blue eyes widened.
"please tell me i didn't miss the date."
she says barely above a whisper. now in normal circumstances, you would've laughed at her reaction, but as the deep sinking feeling hit your gut you knew you had forgotten all about it too. yup...time to sell all of your belongings and submit to the tuition debt gods for all eternity. then you saw it. your saving grace standing taller than the green trees that seemed to frame it in a monumental elegance. your saving grace in the form of architectural genius (it was a huge white-painted house.)
"i've got an idea, Claire."
you tell her, feeling your heart rise back to its proper place in your chest. your eyes glinted in the sunlight. Claire gulped and leaned closer. you missed the way her pupils flared for a fraction of a second.
"your ideas are never good."
she said a small smirk tugging at her lips. and...she wasn't wrong. you were both now dressed in hypothermia inducing cropped tops with skirts as you walked towards a huge white building that loomed over the college like some sort of holy place. one where they did glittery pink blood sacrifices in crop tops and skirts instead of cloaks. clothes that you and Claire are wearing today. Claire's face was drawn into a scowl.
"i can't believe I let you talk me into this."
she grumbled, running a finger through her fiery hair. you shrugged, a giddy smile still plastered on your face from your moment of genius.
"oh come on! we just have to embody the ACO spirit! Alpha! Chi! Omega-"
Claire swatted you on the arm, which earned you a sheepish look.
"don't even try to make that sound serious."
she says, rolling her eyes. you didn't miss the way she stifled a laugh. seriously, what kind of names did sororities even have? and this was supposed to be one of the top sororities in the nation too. you honestly have no idea how they even begin to rank and concur that. you sighed, gaze travelling to Claire who was walking steadily next to you, matching your pace so naturally. your eyes lingered on her form. you had never seen her in a crop top before. the sight of her soft freckled skin and the smooth expanse of her legs from beneath the skirt made your heart lurch. you discreetly pinched yourself for checking your best friend out.
to be fair, you've always had a crush on Claire and...you're pretty sure you've seen her gaze linger on you. not unlike now where her blue eyes kept stealing furtive glances. but you suppose, both of you just never got around to talking about it.
especially after that one night of drinking in her garage next to her newly tuned bike and leaning in. you can still remember the deep smell of motorcycle grease mixed with the heady tang of her usual pear and blackberry scent. god she was so close, lips pink and soft. and then both of you were leaning in, hearts seeming to sync with the other, and-
"we're here."
Claire says in a tone of mixed awe, nerves, and disdain. you blinked, shaking your head a little before plastering your usual smile.
"Alpha Chi Omega, here we come!"
you whispered, much to Claire's amusement, as the redhead swatted you on the arm once more.
"i hate you."
she says, lips pursed as she tried to stifle her smile. you winked and blew her a kiss before walking on ahead, completely missing how her face dusted pink as she looked at you almost longingly.
the entire entrance was packed to the brim with girls. so many girls. you've not seen this many girls since you passed by the stadium where NSYNC was playing at a year back. and they were all really pretty too. this was a competition and you had to focus. especially if you and Claire want to get out of this with the one thing you set out to get. the sorority scholarship. so you took a deep breath and held it for a bit, skipping through all the Lindsay Lohan movies and that one film with Reese Witherspoon where they featured a sorority (you studied it more than the actual research topic you were assigned and had to submit the next week).
"Claire, remember we have to go full Legally Blonde mode."
you told Claire, gulping nervously the closer you got. seriously, you had no idea how these things work. you and Claire literally spent most of your time hanging out in her garage as she played Linkin Park on her brother's guitar, catching horror movies, and spending time with nature (parks near cool cafes). this was all new territory. Claire gave you a weird look.
"a what the fuck now?"
she asked, brows furrowed.
"Legally Blonde, Claire! Reese Witherspoon? the sorority?"
Claire groaned.
"you're telling me that your reference for our current get up and what we have to do next is a film about exaggerated blonde stereotypes and breaking them because of the sorority scenes that they had...?"
your gaze flitted to the side, lips pursing as you nodded.
"yeah?"
Claire groaned and rubbed her face in her hands.
"we're definitely not gonna get in."
with those words of encouragement and high unbreakable spirits in your souls, you and Claire marched in past all the gaggles of girls who turned their heads as you passed (nobody turned, and you were a sweaty nervous mess while Claire just looked like someone who wanted to be anywhere but there). you both somehow made it to the registration booth in one piece.
"hey girls! welcome to ACO!"
a sweet, cheery, and all too familiar voice greeted you. you could almost hear Claire's internal screams of annoyance as you got closer to the booth, fingers wrapped around Claire's wrist as you sort of dragged her. you both had smiles plastered onto your faces, lips uncomfortably sticky from the lipgloss touch up you applied just minutes before. you hope you haven't chewed off all the shine just yet.
the two girls in front of you threw you in for a loop. sure, Ashley Graham, president of the sorority and again, daughter of the country's president, looked every bit the role of a sorority girl, but the girl next to her? a taller brunette with hair that cut off just beneath her ears, a blue tank top, ripped jeans, and a face so strikingly beautiful in the most roguish way knocked the wind and words out of you. she was intimidating without even having to say a word.
there's no way. Legally Blonde, She's the Man, and every other show you watched for research (and definitely did not continue out of spite because all the girls were too cute to be kissing average looking men) did not prepare you for this. her arms were literally flexed as she crossed it simply over her chest. her steely blue gaze swept over you. yep. she had to be an undercover bodyguard. there's no way this girl is a sorority sister. you'd bet the chances of the sorority scholarship on it (hypothetically of course, because tuition for such a school was no joke).
Claire nudged you, eyes gesturing to the paper that Ashley had slid in front of the two of you. you swallowed nervously, palms feeling a little clammy. your fingers sweatily grasped the pink ballpoint pen on the desk and began to fill up the form. signing away your life, identity, and character away in exchange for a fully paid tuition. oh well.
once you were done, Ashley wrapped her fingers around your clammy hands, which made you jolt.
"don't be so nervous, girl! we're like family here. even if you don't make it, girls have got to stick together, right?"
she said so sweetly that you missed the way her green eyes swept over your form and the micro quirk of her sweet pink lips. you felt comforted, nodding and thanking her as the brunette took your forms and placed it onto a growing stack of filled-in forms next to her. and as you turned, you missed the way Ashley's smile tightened.
she held out her hand towards her partner to squirt her favourite orange-vanilla scented hand sanitiser. she rubbed her hands thoroughly and with vigour. she really hoped the ballot system that the school newly introduced wouldn't select you and that friend of yours. feelings of disdain and irritation masked beneath her angelic features increasing as you liked your arm with Claire's, leaning your head onto her shoulder as you breathed out in relief.
three weeks later, you sat next to Claire with a matching envelope in your hand.
"this is it, Claire."
you said breathily, the redhead gave you a solemn nod as both of you tore the envelope open.
"dear...you are invited to- WELCOME PARTY?!?!"
your murmured reading turned into a full-blown shriek of excitement. Claire blinked in disbelief at the huge cursive words printed on the paper. you had made it into the sorority! you pulled Claire into a hug, jumping up and down, to which she patted your back and laughed happily. you were basically armoured and armed to face the tuition gods in a bloody battle right now (a crop top, skirt, and the freebie pink ballpoint pen with ACO printed on the side in gold lettering).
so that was how you ended up at a sorority x frat welcome party. the throngs of crowds were almost dizzying. and the smell of booze was so strong. it was like a scene out of some film. a mix of post-apocalyptic and coming of age. you held onto Claire's arm tighter. she gave you a reassuring smile, blue eyes shining in the party lights as she interlaced her fingers with yours. god she was beautiful. you had to blink a few times to jolt back to your senses. she noticed this but didn't say a word (to your slightly more than mild disappointment).
the inside was somehow worse than the outside; drunk sorority sisters making out with frat boys and giggling, shitty club music, and flashing lights in an otherwise dimly lit room. god this was so lame.
after about almost half an hour of trying to speak over the speakers, Claire took your hand and dragged you upstairs. your heart was thudding so loudly in your chest and your skin felt warmer than it already was from the dank atmosphere of the party. her skin was shiny with sweat as it dipped into her mini dress. one that she got with you just for this party. she looked so good you had to physically tear your eyes away, hoping that she wouldn't notice.
the upstairs had rows of rooms, but in the dimly lit light, you both rushed into the one that was nearest. not bothering to notice the initials of the door. once inside, Claire was breathing a little heavier.
"hey, you okay?"
you asked her, concern etching itself onto your face. she gulped, nodding. you were both warm and giddy from the drinks you had. Claire's skin was flushed, soft freckles peppering it like constellations and her lips pouted without her realising. before you could process what you were doing, your hand raised towards her face. your palm cupped her cheek, melting into the soft of her skin and your thumb swiped over her lower lip, the sticky gloss staining the pad of your thumb. gloss that you made her wear to this stupid lame party. the blue of her eyes turned into slim rings around black as she got closer. there it was again, the heady mix of pear and blackberries. except this time, Claire closed the distance.
her lips were so soft and sweet against yours, tongue hungrily swiping over the gloss on your lips. her hands roamed down your dress clad skin, spreading like a starved fire. you felt hot. white-hot like metal in a burner. you moaned softly, allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth. you felt like you could die at this moment. a star-struck smitten type of death. it was better than anything you had ever imagined and after that night in her garage? you imagined...a lot.
she pushed you against the closet door and your hands squeezed her waist, inhaling her scent as you peppered sticky glittery kisses down her neck.
"couldn't stand all those frat boys- shit- staring at you. you're too hot for your own good, you know that?"
she said in a strained whisper against your ear, nipping it gently as her fingers trailed lower. the pads of her index traced against your clothed pussy, pulling away to show you how it glistened in the streams of moonlight from the shuttered windows. as soon as she saw your eyes darken, she slipped her finger between her lips and licked it. you felt your breath hitch in your throat, leaning in to kiss her once more when an all too familiar voice interrupted the moment. footsteps were approaching. you looked at Claire in panic and both of you shoved yourselves into the closet, heart thudding in your ears.
"you've been a good girl haven't you, Jill?"
you and Claire exchanged looks, eyes widened as you both watched through the closet slits. Ashley and that tall brunette from the registration booth. the one you assume she was calling Jill. Ashley sat Jill down onto her bed, manicured fingers tilting Jill's head up to gaze into her eyes.
"i did promise a reward, right?"
you felt goosebumps rise on your skin and you shuddered. it was so weird, but you could not tear your eyes away. Ashley leaned closer, fingers pulling Jill's lips apart and sticking two fingers down her throat. Jill simply sat there, letting Ashley do as she pleased. even when Ashley was knuckle-deep in her throat, forcing gagging noises from deep within her. Ashley giggled and spat into her mouth.
"swallow for me, yeah? good girl!"
she cooed, tapping Jill on her nose with her saliva-coated fingers. the taller woman looked up at her with eyes of devotion. unwavering. Claire and you both watched on slack jawed as Ashley began to pull her skirt up and laid on the bed, gesturing for Jill to get closer. Jill got between her legs and began pulling Ashley's panties down with her teeth.
what the hell? wasn't Ashley dating the fraternity president? that dude with the long blonde hair, surfer-style clothes, and looks that make all the girls flock after him despite his bland and shallow personality? what's his name again? this was wrong. you turned to face Claire, mouthing to her that you both needed to stay hidden as the moans and praises from outside the cupboard got louder. you both slowly backed away deeper into Ashley's clothes when your foot accidentally kicked something. you both froze as a loud buzz erupted from the floor.
a vibrator? seriously? Ashley's hidden freaky nature was the last thing you expected to bring about your death. a technical death by a vibrator. what a way to go. goodbye sorority scholarship and goodbye to your future, because you had just caught the president's daughter being a freak in the sheets. the closet door ripped open and Jill stood in front of it with her arms crossed. Claire immediately put an arm in front of you, pushing you behind. your heart almost swelled, but the sight of Ashley absolutely glowering behind Jill put a stop to everything else.
it was terrifying. her gaze was sharp, and her face was eerily calm, but you could feel the rage just rolling off of her smaller frame in waves. could you really blame her? you practically pussy-blocked her while it was getting intense. you held onto Claire's arm tightly.
"of course it's the sweaty-palmed loser and her equally lame girlfriend. again."
she says in a tone that was so sweet you would have thought it's a compliment. Claire scowled while you simply stood frozen.
"you're gonna pay for this, you know that?"
she asked, a smile returning to her features as she walked closer. definitely a deity in her past life. maybe one of those disasters reaping when upset kinds. you could feel your heartbeat in the roof of your mouth.
"Ashley we're so sorry! it was an accident we didn't-"
you tried to say before Ashley gripped your jaw, french nails pressing sharply into your skin, which made you wince. Claire yanked Ashley's hand off and glared at her.
"don't touch her!"
Claire says, glaring as Jill ripped her hand off of Ashley's wrist.
"you have a lot of audacity to still be feisty after peeping at me like a bunch of dirty pervs. i'm gonna call the cops on you both. have your face plastered over the papers-"
"and let your little frat boyfriend find out about this?"
the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it, stunning everyone in the room. Ashley's smile vanished completely.
"what. the hell. did you just say to me, newbie?"
her green eyes narrowed, and her head tilted as she scoffed in disbelief. you had never seen such a beautiful hatred on someone's face. it was haunting. you gulped and instinctively moved back.
"get them out of my face."
she said and, without a word, Jill hauled the both of you by the arm towards the door.
"if i hear even a whisper of this happening anywhere outside this room, you're dead. got it?!"
and with that, the both of you were thrown out, door slamming shut behind you. you both heard a shrill shriek from inside the room and the sound of objects crashing to the floor. that was enough for you to grab Claire's hand and book it out of there.
the rest of the week went by quietly, with both you and Claire avoiding Ashley and Jill like the plague. you were both definitely onto something when you said that there was more to Ashley than meets the eye. except, you didn't know just how bad things can get when you're on the wrong side.
it was the fifth day of moving into the sorority house, you and Claire managed to get a shared dorm (?) room with two other sorority sisters. so far, aside from being alienated by everyone and getting the vilest looks from Ashley and Jill when nobody is looking, things weren't going so bad. you both still had the sorority scholarship. you could toughen it up and just grit your teeth through it right?
wrong.
it was 3 am on a Saturday morning when you were doused in ice cold water. you woke up yelling as hands grabbed you roughly and yanked you downstairs. you shook your head and coughed out the water that you inhaled by accident, rubbing your eyes. you immediately scanned for Claire and grabbed onto her cold wet hand. the sorority house living room was filled with all the new girls. and all of you were soaked to the bone in chilly water. what's going on?
"good morning newbies! hope you're feeling super refreshed!"
a sweet voice. the devil herself. Ashley Graham. the movies you watched did NOT prepare you for whatever this was. and besides, you were pretty sure that everybody was talking about how Ashley Graham had single-handedly abolished cruel traditions like hazing. so what the hell was this? as you scanned the crowd of 20 newbies including you and Claire, you realised that nobody knew what was happening either. they were definitely wondering the same thing.
"well, i'm sure you've heard that there's no more...hazing in sororities because i think it's cruel, disgusting, and frankly pointless."
she says, pacing around the living room. despite the situation, you noticed how she managed to capture everyone's eyes like a hypnotic pendulum at a therapist's office would. everybody was holding onto her every word.
"and...you'd be right. however, we still want to honour some of the old traditions. because our senior sisters have paved the way and the least we can do is pay respects. don't you think?"
you frowned subconsciously as all the surrounding crowds nodded and murmured in agreement. nobody questioned why they were all doused in cold water either. was this a cult? were you and Claire right in all your conspiracy theories? Ashley's green eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk before they landed on you and Claire. she grinned as if she had spotted an old friend. she sauntered towards Jill and placed her chin on the taller girl's shoulder, whispering something before turning back to stare right into your soul.
"well...as president, I have changed some of the mean and awful hazing traditions into...a more fun and enjoyable sorority bonding session!"
she says, prompting the crowd to start cheering and clapping. this was seriously starting to weird you and Claire out as you both exchanged glances.
"Jill will you please fetch me the official sorority recruitment tools?"
Jill disappeared for a bit and returned with a box, smirking as she noticed you and Claire's weirded out gazes.
"now everyone, will you please bring the two little troublemakers forward?"
she asked the crowd sweetly, to which all of them began shoving you and Claire forward. Claire was shoving back, but the numbers overpowered her with ease and both of you stumbled forward, shivering in the cold.
"so...you see...there's a record that has remained unbroken for a few years since the hazing rituals have been abolished. however, i think we can all agree that troublemakers deserve to be disciplined, hm? so that they'd be good sisters like the rest of you?"
the crowd nodded, eyes watching eagerly as both of you were shoved to your knees. Claire was fuming, her face etched in a deep scowl as she gritted her teeth.
"you're sick, Ashley."
she hissed, much to the blonde's amusement. she giggled sweetly and tapped Claire's cheek with her palm.
"always so mean and disobedient, Claire Redfield...when will you learn to be a good girl?"
the crowd of girls laughed as Claire shook Ashley's hand away. Ashley laughs and sauntered towards you, stroking your hair before looking at you with a soul piercing gaze.
"turn around for me, newbie. let's see if we can break the latest record."
Ashley whispers and as soon as you turned, you were at eye level with a huge pink strap-on secured around none other than Jill's waist. on it were a bunch of names with measurements.
"let's see if you're really into girls, yeah, sweetheart? open up for me."
Jill whispered, using the tip of the strap on to pat your face and trace the curves of your lips. this had to be a sick dream of some kind. there's just no way. her strong hands reached out to squeeze your jaw open before she placed the tip of the glittery pink strap on your tongue. the rubbery taste was foreign. she smiled at you with encouraging eyes as she began to push deeper at a snail's pace.
"break the record and hold it for 15 seconds, newbie. i'll consider letting you and your little girlfriend keep your scholarships."
blue was the only thing your eyes focused on as the world around you began to muffle as if somebody had dunked your head into a pool of static and held it there. her husky voice was tugging at the edge of your conscience.
"good girl. you're doing so well f'me...think you might break the record, rookie..."
she says gently, fingers in your hair as you gagged on the pink rubber around her waist. drool spilt from your chin as it pushed deeper down your throat. funnily enough, you were the one pushing further. hoping so desperately that you could take even a millimetre more and hold it for 15 seconds (especially since Ashley had whispered a threat of cancelling your scholarship if you failed). your throat burned and tears streamed down your face. you reached your limit and held yourself there, hoping for the timer to go off and that it was far enough to have broken the record. the woman before you was smiling proudly, roughened hands stroking the sides of your cheeks as she smeared the drool all over.
"not bad, rookie."
she said as she held your head in place, wiping the tears that rolled down your hollowed cheeks. from your peripherals, you could see the hawk-like grip that Ashley had on Claire's shoulder as she made her watch. you could hear Claire's strained grunts as she watched you being humiliated in front of all the other girls.
beep beep beep
the sound of your salvation went off and as you tried to pull away, Jill held your head in place. you began to panic and squirm.
"shhh it's alright rookie. Ms Graham just needs a picture-proof of your record being broken."
Jill says so tenderly. you could have mistaken it for genuine care. Ashley sauntered over and snapped a picture with her flip phone camera, charms clinking tauntingly against the shell of your ear. as soon as Jill let you go, you gagged and fell back coughing as air rushed back into your system. Claire rushed to your side and rubbed your back, face filled with worry and eyes brimming with angry tears as she pulled you close. the feeling was overwhelming.
"good job, newbie! you broke Cindy's record! she was quite the name amongst the senior frat brothers, y'know."
she says so cheerfully that if it wasn't next to a pink strap on, and you weren't still reeling from the whole event, you would think that she was praising you for winning a cute stuffy at the claw machine. her blonde hair flounced as she walked towards you, fingers ruffling your hair gently before tilting your chin upwards.
"makes you wonder if you're secretly a dick lover, huh?"
she whispered just loud enough for you and Claire to hear before standing up and stroking your heads.
"so...does everyone think the newbie deserves a reward for being such an obedient. little. slut?"
her voice was soft as her green eyes scanned the cheering crowds with a contrasting hawk-like sharpness. she giggled sweetly and yanked your head back, giving you a small kiss on your slobbered skin.
"are you ready for your reward, newbie?"
the next thing you know, Ashley had you on all fours crawling towards her as the crowd jeered at you. she had her panties pulled down and she was glistening. her hands began nudging your head towards her pussy. she smelled so sweet. musky with a hint of orange vanilla. that deepthroat must have deprived your brain of oxygen, huh?
"eat up, newbie...you do need to pay for ruining my mood that other time after all..."
she whispered, and you obeyed. her control seemed to have infected you. you internally apologised to Claire as your face began to sink into the velvety softness of her pussy. she wrapped her thighs around your head, pushing you deeper into her as she moaned lazily.
"are you seeing this, Redfield?"
she taunted as she moved your head like some sort of masturbating toy against her pussy, moaning and shutting her eyes.
"you wish this was you, right?"
the crowds were watching intently with a hunger you didn't even have to see to know it was there. and as you began to lose yourself in her dizzying pussy, lips latched onto her clit and suckling it as if her slick was some nectar from the heavens, you felt something prodding you from behind.
"you see, i'm being generous by giving you a bonus dessert on top of your reward."
Ashley says between heavy breaths and moans, fingers tightening in your hair.
"the real reward, is getting to feel the fruit of your efforts...mmf- deep ah- inside you..."
and with that, the sorority assigned pj shorts you had on was pulled down along with your panties. the tip of something sliding up and down your folds to collect slick before slowly pushing in.
"i'm sorry..."
that voice. it was...Claire. her hands gripped around your waist in an all too familiar way before she began thrusting into you. you let out a muffled moan against Ashley's pussy, eyes rolling back at the stretch. the vibration made Ashley's plush thighs tighten a little more around your ears as she rubbed your face and tongue with a renewed vigour and need. you felt like you were drowning. vision turning a little spotty even.
Claire was moaning and whispering sweet things as she thrusted into you at a hip snapping pace. the burn from the stretch of the huge pink strap had numbed and all you could feel was a fullness as she angled the tip to scratch at your sweet spots while bumping against your cervix deliciously. she was shaky in her thrusts, moaning something about Jill being so good at eating pussy. you could barely hear anything. you felt her lean over and kiss Ashley sloppily.
Claire moaned against Ashley's lips as Jill tongued her folds and scissored her open with one hand while the other gestured towards another new girl to help her out as she stroked her own puffy clit. and then there were hands everywhere and moans of pleasure and need filled the room. one moment Ashley was creaming your face and calling you a good pet and the next, you were being fucked senseless by the strap that had transferred over to Jill as she bounced her hips to match your pace of sinking onto her.
her muscles flexed as she held your ass and pistoned you onto that strap on. all you remembered was the fullness of her tits in your hands and babbling stupidly as drool dripped down the sides of your mouth. everybody kept moving and being passed around for what felt like forever, your brain drowning in pleasure. was this how all sorority girls emerged as uniform clones of each other? were all their brains melted by intense sorority hazing orgies.
a weak and trembling hand interlaced itself with yours. you recognised it immediately as Claire's and gave her a weak squeeze, smiling despite your hazy state. she pulled you closer to her, and wrapped you into her warm body.
as the smell of sweat and bodies wafted in the humid air of sex, all of you laid in a pile of sticky satisfaction. sounds of breathing and heartbeats pulling everyone deeper beneath the currents of fatigue. maybe the ranking was onto something when they ranked ACO the number one sorority in the country. but one thing's for sure, you definitely needed a long shower and bed rest after this.
MDNI, puppy hybrid!leon kennedy x fem hybrid!reader
word count. 4.5k
cws. puppy hybrids, p in v, unprotected, knotting, creampie, breeding, rebecca n billy are married because i push that agenda 25/8, humping, heat cycles, marking/biting, mentions of spaying/experimentation, slight age gap,
note. this is the first fic without dark content that i’ve written in a minute so pls bear with me if it’s mid lmao. not proofread but we ball!!
You weren’t an old girl. Really. Jaded, sure, but that came with your time in the force. Rose-tinted glasses tend to fall off when head scratches are replaced by police drills. On paper, you were in the prime of your life — this was the strongest you’d be, the healthiest you’d be. You couldn’t help being a homebody after so many years in the RPD.
You were a police dog, born and bred. Hybrids today were as much of a craze as they were a controversy, but in your time, your use was strictly professional. Private experimentation and sacrilege surrounded your birth in the absence of loving fervor — your embryo was lab-crafted, perfectly manufactured to give you a canine’s senses and a human’s mind. You’d joined the force while you were still a pup, ate from the chief’s hand and slept in one of the locker rooms. And you were a damn good cop. The best of ‘em. You had to be — until a gunshot wound to the knee rendered you achy and less mobile than required for the force.
There were thousands of embryos that perished before you, but you were amongst the first to survive — to prevail — and now, you spent your days barking at people outside and napping with your cheek on Billy’s thigh. It wasn’t a bad life, far from it. But it wasn’t your life. That left you somewhere between puppy and midlife, suddenly purposeless and painfully awkward when you tried.
Still, you hadn’t processed it as a bad thing. That’s just how you were. It had been two years since your discharge — two years of sleeping in on the foot of your owners’ bed and cushy vet visits. Comfort was still largely foreign to you, and the affection often advertised with modern hybrids had seemed to wedge itself out of your DNA. Perhaps intentionally. No point in a coddling police dog. You weren’t manufactured to cuddle up to criminals. But it didn’t really occur to you that Rebecca wanted you to feel like you were natural until your second annual checkup.
She’d chatted away with the vet as you’d zoned out, about the circumstances of your adoption and the sharpness of your canines. You’d heard it a million times over – first flattered, then offended, now indifferent. Your floppy ears didn’t perk up till you heard the word puppies, suddenly tilting your head to the side in confusion. The vet raised an eyebrow, chuckling at your abrupt interest.
“Yeah, puppies. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
You had to resist curling your lip into a snarl at the idea, wrinkling your nose instead – shaking your head out of sheer pettiness. You saved your voice for people who didn’t ask you questions like that. For people who didn’t look dumbfounded by your reaction.
“Is something wrong?” Rebecca chimed in, instinctively shifting closer to you – as if you needed protection from the vet, and as if you weren’t more capable of protecting her. You locked eyes with the vet as she shook her head, folding her arms like you were a disease.
“Just never seen that from a hybrid before,” she chuckled – albeit manually. “You’ve not been spayed, have you?”
Rebecca shook her head instantly, face soured in fervent distaste. “Goodness, never,” she said, drawing out the never as long as she could without starting a fight. You huffed in relief when the vet took the information in stride – for as long as she’d known you, she’d advocated for rights you’d never really considered having. She’d threatened to quit a few years back when some of the higher-ups had insisted on sterilization. They’d accepted that they’d needed a medic more than you’d needed surgery, so she’d gotten her way. Heat cycles were annoying, but you’d ultimately appreciated the gesture enough to come home with her a couple years later without a fight. She still got real stubborn when she fought – but now, any sign of her distress made the fur on your back stand up straight. That included spats at the vet’s office.
“Suppose I’m just surprised. Hybrids this young normally jump at the opportunity,” she shrugged, reaching to rub behind one of your ears. You allowed it for a couple of seconds, overtaken by thought. She had a point; canine hybrids were natural sluts. Especially puppies. Males would pop a knot half the time just by looking at you – back when you were around hybrids enough to see males, anyway. Puppies in heat fucked worse than the bunnies you’d seen on occasion. You’d never known if it was intentional – if they’d intended for you to breed like a bitch, or if heats were just a side effect they couldn’t quite weed out, but you did know that you weren’t quite exempt. You’d just gotten good at self-control – a pillow between your thighs was your lifeline, and you kept yourself pent-up enough for it to work.
“Well, she’s at the age where it would be best for her to have puppies – hybrids just typically wind up pregnant before then. Does she have any friends with them?” the vet continued, and Rebecca shook her head immediately. Not like she had to count; you didn’t have any friends.
“No, she’s always been more interested in my husband and I. She usually growls at other hybrids,” Rebecca laughed, and you nodded in affirmation. Other hybrids were threats before they were friends – and you’d not found one to be a viable friend. But the vet hadn’t shared your amusement.
The vet went on that day, about social delays and anxiety and some other bullshit you’d angrily ignored. You’d tried to dismiss it. Puppies were ridiculous. Friends were ridiculous. You would look ridiculous, inserted into that life. You’d assumed that she’d dismissed it, too, out of courtesy – if nothing else. But she hadn’t, and that’s what led to him.
In the middle of your foyer sat a floppy-eared puppy hybrid, tail thumping against the carpet at the sight of you. You growled when Rebecca crouched beside him, waiting to lunge if he got any closer to your owner – and luckily, he’d cowered immediately, knowing his place before you had to spell it out for him. You straightened up in pride, brow furrowing when you were scolded rather than praised.
“Calm down, alright? This is Leon – he’s here to live with us,” Rebecca introduced him, drawing her words out as she coaxed him to come closer. And he did, albeit a little slower than before – eyeing you with caution. You growled again at the prospect; he flinched like clockwork.
You sat on your haunches, completely dumbfounded – jaw slightly agape as you looked from him, to her, to him again. “Why?” you asked, throat dry, words hoarser than you’d anticipated – weaker than you’d ever be comfortable with. Shock was seldom felt by you, and you were less than pleased to waste it on a stray.
(The stray in question was well-groomed, freshly collared, and wet behind the ears — but you wanted him to be a stray enough to disregard that.)
“He’s your friend,” she said, as if your distaste was absurd. You might’ve insulted him in response if glaring at him hadn’t preoccupied you. As if your efforts would compel him to turn and run away forever. He was cute enough. Probably could get by batting those pretty blues and whining on welcome mats. That’s likely what had lured Rebecca in to begin with – she was never very good at avoiding something that needed to be taken care of. You leaned in close enough to make him back away on instinct – except, his instincts didn’t work quite right, and he stayed right in place, ears perking up like you were trying to play. Either he had an IQ of 5 or a memory span of 5 seconds. Bottom of the food chain. Maybe he was beyond Rebecca’s help.
Seeing that you weren’t going to respond, she sighed, patting down one of the blond cowlicks on his head. He was cute, sure, but even that pissed you off. Your owners weren’t supposed to be the type to adopt puppies sat nicely in pet store windows. Straight from the breeding mill – one of the hybrid ones that had faced the scorn of local news lately. You assumed that Leon’s idea of hardship was being weaned too early. He didn’t belong in the same room as you, as Rebecca, or as Billy as he stepped in – to your relief.
Billy took in the sight of Leon, blinking in disbelief – mouthing something to Rebecca. You couldn’t really make it out, but you doubted that he could, either. Something akin to ‘Why is there another one in my foyer?’ with a dash of ‘We’ve talked about this.’ She bit her lip, looking at him to avoid looking at Leon.
“He was picked to fill her old position in the RPD a few months ago,” she explained, nodding to him, then to you – like she was trying to connect you two already. “But they got rid of the program. It’s banned to use hybrids in the workplace.”
Admittedly, you knew that was a good thing, but you still visibly scowled. You hadn’t been paid, hadn’t been allowed rest during the day, and worked longer shifts than everyone – without being recognized as an employee. Shit was exhausting. First thing you did when you were adopted was curl up and sleep for thirty hours straight. You couldn’t tell if you were jealous that Leon had gotten out young and unscathed, or if you just wanted him out of your house.
“So why is he here?” Billy asked, voice laden with the judgment that made you smile. Not for too long – Leon smiled when you smiled, so forced your brow to furrow and your canines to reveal themselves. As if you’d actually bite him – you’d get scolded, and he’d probably taste like the RPD.
You’d hoped he’d still put his foot down, that he’d send him back to whatever section of the RPD he’d been kicked from with a note and five bucks tied to his collar, but he didn’t. Even though you’d been a hard sell when Rebecca first brought you home. Owning a hybrid meant sharing your space with something between a puppy and a coworker. Said a lot about a person, he used to say – before you’d shown up with a limp and nowhere to go. You were a special case, he still justified. You weren’t the sort of hybrid that pissed in the house and played with rubber balls. You lazed next to him when he turned on the television and could hold a discussion about the military.
But Rebecca had real pretty eyes. So did Leon, but Billy could’ve cared less about that. So they fluffed up a bed for him, right next to yours – even though yours had fallen out of use when they’d allowed you to curl up at the foot of theirs – and ordered a collar with their address. His address, now.
For the first time in months, you were kicked to your actual bed for the night. Not that you stayed. You sulked over by the door — beyond whining and pawing for their attention, but not above eavesdropping. You knew them well enough to know that when they laid down, Billy would say something about how you should be at the end of the bed, and Rebecca would sigh and turn on the light. And you were right — a soft glow in the crack of the door was your cue to spy.
You ended up zoning out most of their conversation. Bad habit. Your hearing had dulled a little after a lifetime of bullets whirring past your ears, and it was too late to bother with the mumbled parts behind the door. But after the initial excuses of Leon’s need for shelter, you caught the underlying reason behind his adoption: you.
“She’s fine,” Billy argued — and you would’ve argued with him, if not for the door. And your exclusion. “We hang out every night. Seems socialized to me.”
“Hybrids are supposed to play, Billy, not follow the lottery,” Rebecca sighed. “She’s still here, I just don’t want her missing out. Wouldn’t it be lonely, not knowing how to socialize with people like you?”
You had to step away when you heard that, irritated beyond belief. Back to square one. You’d thought they’d moved past taking pity on you. You didn’t take pity on yourself. All socializing with other hybrids led to was puppies and chase. You made the viewpoint apparent when Leon padded down the hall to follow you – turning away before he could get a word in.
The days passed, and your schedule reconstructed itself to fit him. Not that you welcomed the flexibility.
You used to get up at your leisure; now, Leon pawed at you till you opened your eyes around nine. The second you sat up, he moved to lick your cheek or nip at your ear or some other puppy bullshit, and you’d snap your jaws, forcing him back long enough to blink the sleep out of your eyes. He’d glue himself back to your side at breakfast, wave goodbye to your owners alongside you as they left, try to nestle up to you during naps, and paw at you when you spaced out, and tug at your ears in some halfhearted attempt to get you to play with him. It never worked, just like his jokes never made you laugh, but Leon had a thing for trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. He probably had a thing for you, too, but the thought of that made your nose wrinkle in revulsion – even if most of it was an exaggeration.
He liked Rebecca enough, and reciprocated the indifference Billy managed to offer him – but you were the primary object of his affection. He looked at you with a strange, unrequited fondness behind his pupils, and you couldn’t bring yourself to gaze back. Something to do with irritation. Pride, maybe. Rebecca condoned it readily – he’d not been around other hybrids before. (Neither had you, and you weren’t acting like that.) He was still a puppy, albeit an older one. (You didn’t act like that when you were a puppy.) Well, you were brought up differently. (You couldn’t retaliate that.)
Leon never really knew when to shut up, so you ended up learning just about everything there was to know about him. Granted, if you had your way, he’d never speak again, but you’d always take an occasional anecdote over his daily oversharing. He wasn’t brought up in a lab like you were – most of those puppies had gone off to actual homes, and most of those scientists now littered the spectrum between retirement and prison. Leon had a mama, at some point, but his dad made himself scarce shortly after he was born – sort of like how you wanted to. But his mama belonged to somebody who still didn’t want to admit their hybrid had been defiled, so he bounced between homes till he ended up in the RPD’s clutches, over a year after your injury and a couple months after the last hybrid’s retirement.
You knew it was hardly a life to envy, but you still did. He’d been acquainted with the concepts of mamas and breastfeeding and friends. Even if it was brief. It wasn’t the sort of envy you felt comfortable admitting to yourself. It was the sort you forced your mind to redirect from. It hurt to think of the motherhood you were robbed of, just like it hurt imagine providing it.
You didn’t recognize the underlying fondness you’d developed for Leon’s awkward clinginess until it suddenly stopped. Like the faucet had been switched off. You noticed it the morning you finally got to sleep in, not taking the opportunity without suspicion – following his scent to the hall closet.
“Leon?” you asked, after a moment of consideration – not wanting to disrupt your own peace. “You alright?”
“M’fine,” he answered quickly, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You’d never cared for that tone. Heard it too many times during your days on the force. So you opened the door without knocking – because what the hell could he be doing in a hall closet?
Your hand froze against the knob as you stared at him, tears beaded at his waterline, pretty thighs settled on either side of one of your bed’s pillows as his fat cock rutted into the fabric. Your jaw fell agape as his did – though his was likely out of ecstasy rather than shock. You bit into your bottom lip, involuntarily wetting it with your tongue – noticing the way you were abruptly salivating. Even as your brain urged you to scold him for fucking your property, your body disallowed it, the words disintegrating in your throat. Heat pooled at the pit of your stomach as he tried to prevent the way his hips stuttered forward, muffling his leaky tip uselessly into the fabric.
Salivating over one cock didn’t make you a whore, you justified. And really, you weren’t. You’d only gotten dicked down once, some years before your adoption – and it’d been so underwhelming, you squirmed away before the knot could swell. It didn’t mean you stopped craving it – just meant you forced yourself to forget it. You weren’t pent-up, you’d repeat during heats, thighs squeezed around your aching cunt. You could control yourself better than that.
But it was a little harder to forget a cock as it wept for your attention, displayed prettily just beneath you. You came to the realization that he’d decided to isolate himself in heat, and blamed that for your shallow breaths and racing heart.
“Don’t be mad, m’sorry,” he started, forcing back a whine as his dick throbbed under your gaze. “Didn’t mean to, please–”
“Leon,” you sighed, as if you were a disappointed mother and not an abruptly cock-crazed whore, “I’m not mad…” Your words trailed off as you refused to commit yourself to the bit, skin hot. “Have you… dealt with this before? Being in heat, I mean.”
He nodded, ears going flat against his head as he made some attempt to cover himself, albeit with the same pillow. “Yeah, uh… yeah,” he cleared his throat, skin flushed. “They explained it to me when it happened at the station, ‘cause it was my first heat… just wasn’t this bad.”
“First one usually isn’t…” you muttered, more sympathetic of his circumstances than you’d been since his arrival. “It’s kind of silent, right? Inconvenient at worst. Doesn’t make you dizzy and sticky.”
Leon nodded, brow furrowed in slight confusion. Wasn’t like you to converse back. Wasn’t like you to get out of bed on your own, either – evidently, he’d relied on that a little too much, expecting you to stay asleep till his cock went soft. “Sorry,” he said again, words breathy and tone verging on a whine. “I couldn’t take it, didn’t wanna bother you, but your pillow smells like you, s’good–”
You raised a hand to cut him off, unsure what to do. On one hand, this most certainly wasn’t how Rebecca would want you to socialize with the new hybrid. New-ish. He’d been here long enough to map the rooms and the quickest ways to get treats. On the other hand, you were horny beyond belief. Horny enough for your clit to pulse faster than your heart. If that was possible. Your cunt stuck to the thin panties beneath your shirt, slick gathering between your thighs as you stood. Wasn’t this as good of a chance as any? Wasn’t it beneficial to help a puppy out during his first real heat?
You came to the entirely unbiased decision that yes, it would be beneficial to him, slowly running your hand from his thinly-clothed abdomen to his v-line. Through the fabric, his skin remained hot to the touch, glued haphazardly to his stomach by a thinner layer of sweat. He yelped when your thumb grazed his hip, the pads of your fingers nearing his cock – staring up at you with wide eyes.
“Are you sure you wanna help me?” he asked tentatively, still unadjusted to your sudden tolerance. You nodded a little too eagerly, a little too much like him, a little too desperate to put much thought into it. He smiled, albeit briefly, and for once, you thought he looked prettier like that – half-lidded and blissed.
So you let your hand fall flush against the pillow, fingers grazing his cock – watching another bead of precum dribble down the tip. You slid the pillow away, palming the base as the length slapped against his abdomen, leaking uselessly into his skin. You bit your lip as he whined, hips bucking forward as your grip solidified, desperate for the friction you’d briefly deprived him of as you considered your next course of action. You figured a handjob wouldn’t be enough to cool him off, and you didn’t particularly want to find out what cum tasted like – but it wasn’t a good idea to let him fuck you, as much as you wanted it. As much as he wanted it.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t almost fuck you.
“Stay still,” you muttered, tugging your panties down your thighs, stifling a grin when you heard his tail thump emphatically on the carpet behind him. At least your cunt was pretty. As much as puppy horniness vexed you, it was flattering, in its own right. So you parted your thighs a little wider, easing the plush of your ass onto his thighs, facing him as you sandwiched his throbbing cock between your folds. You had to pause with him for a moment, breath stilling in your lungs, thighs trembling against his.
“Fuck, just… just move,” you panted. “Don’t fuck me, just move.”
If you couldn’t give him credit for anything else, you could give him credit for being obedient – even when it was brief. If you told him to sit, he’d stay till you said it was okay. If you told him to back off in the morning, he’d go bother one of his toys. And when you told him to let his hips stutter upwards, sliding against yours, he obeyed – head tilted back as a groan rose from his chest.
Your cunt pulsed around him, clit throbbing as he rutted between your folds. Every uncontrolled jerk of his cock pressed his leaking head to your clit, slick dripping down from your hole to his balls. You leaned in, tip twitching against your swollen bud, pressing a kiss to his adam's apple – nipping at the skin till you’d imparted enough saliva to feel satisfied. He whined as he rutted harder, fingers twitching – desperate to pull you closer, well aware that you weren’t to be grabbed.
“You like being marked up, huh?” you asked, voice huskier than you’d intended it to be. Like someone else was speaking for you. Someone who was used to taking puppy cock. He opened his mouth to respond, failing – tilting his head back as you sank your canines into the dip between his neck and shoulder, feeling him uselessly roll his hips upward. Like nothing else mattered. Your lips were pressed to his neck – your tongue, your teeth, the marks you left behind. Why should anything else matter?
“G’na cum–” he whimpered as you sucked a bruise into the hollow of his throat, sliding your cunt down his length at an attempt of gaining friction. You nodded, surprised he’d managed to last at all. Surprised you’d managed to last at all.
“S’okay, just cum for me,” you murmured into his skin – and like a good boy, he did, cumming a line up from your clit to your navel, dick still hard enough to ache as his knot swelled against the underside of your clit. You bit your lip, unwilling to come undone in front of him, grinding involuntarily against the swell – not that it was enough. Not that your pussy stopped throbbing. Not that he went soft.
“Need more,” he whined, to your relief. “Wanna fuck you.”
“Yeah?” you hummed, laughing breathily as he pressed his still-drooling tip between your lips. “Yeah, you wanna knot me? Wanna give me puppies?”
You didn’t really know where that came from. Still felt like a voice foreign to your conscience, but it wasn’t one you protested against as he eased himself into you, needy enough to bottom out within seconds. Your eyes widened at the stretch, humming as he pawed at your chest. He whined till you tugged up the hem of your shirt to rest at the top of your tits, face immediately pressing flush to them.
“You’ll let me?” he panted, pumping his cock into you as he nipped a visible indentation into one of your tits. “Wan’ me to breed you?”
You found yourself agreeing, enamored by the prospect – languidly rocking your hips with his, feeling his cock twitch desperately inside of you. “Yeah, want it,” you mewled, breath hitching as he bit down on your tit a little harder, quickly mending the pinch with saliva. “S’okay if my tits get swollen for you, Leon.”
Every time you spoke, he had to refrain from nudging his tip into your cervix. Last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. That was no way to treat someone you ached to pump a litter into! The thought alone made him whine, pressing his mouth to your chest again to take the pressure off, heat flaring in his lower belly at the thought of knocking you up. Like his instincts took over any cognition he had left around you.
“Please, lemme–” he choked out, and you never really got to know what the request was, ‘cause he pumped you full too fast, his knot swelling back up fast enough to make his head fuzzy – like every part of his body was dedicated to you. And he’d allow it to be – as smitten with you as you were smitten with dick.
You didn’t move, for once, allowing yourself to be knotted and bred, cunt clenching around his knot as you came on his cock. You slowly brought your lips to the top of his head, nose resting against one of his ears. More velvety than you’d expected. You’d have to nuzzle into them more often.
“They’re gonna be pissed…” he mumbled into your breast, slowly looking up – eyelids still droopy. You couldn’t exactly reassure him – your owners would be pissed, mostly at him. Probably. Hopefully. It’s not like you could do much but lay against him till he wasn’t swollen inside of you. Didn’t you deserve a moment of impulsivity after all you’d been through? Didn’t you deserve to get pumped full of cute puppies?
Besides, you’d brought it up before – all socialization between hybrids leads to puppies or conflict. You’d just given up on the latter when you found a way to tire him out.
EMMMM the knotting scene got me all hot and bothered i swearrrrr like he's so pathetic in this one with the jerking off even when reader is there 😵💫😵💫😵💫 so tasty and a banger as always!! there is no mid coming from you. trust!! my favourite part is reader just giving in towards the end like yes so real. i would have too LMAO ty for the meal as always 🫶
erm teehee... my bf cheated on me, can you make a small lil paragraph where chris cheats on reader and reader is just heartbroken and like chris get depressed after she left him. AND GETS MORE DEPRESSED WHEN HE FOUND OUT READER DIED OR SUM... teehee lob you <33
☆/n: requested by the lovely @ressespearlz sorry this took forever because of the break 🥲 i hope you're feeling better now and that the fic is angsty and extremely to your liking! sending you lots of love and hugs always ♡ also sorry i got carried away...i know you said a para :' hope you like it still!!
he took a deep drag of the cigarette between his fingers watching the smoke waft and hang over his table in the sleazy bar he was in. his hands were shaking lightly as he pulled it away from his lips. where the fuck was his drink? he needed it.
"hi handsome, here's the drink you ordered."
the server slid his drink towards him, fingers lingering for a moment too long. Chris looked up at her. she had a sweet face with a sultry smile. eyes that held an oblivion he longed for. an oblivion for the world he was a part of. she leaned closer to him, her tits squished by the top half of her uniform as she plucked the cigarette from his hands and took a puff. Chris licked his dry lips as he studied the woman. ignoring the tug of ration and the buzzing in his pants pockets, he brought her to his car.
the excitement of having something new and forbidden surged through him as his tongue licked in her mouth, the taste of cigarettes and a tad bit of vodka swirling as he deepened the kiss. he felt her hurry to unzip his pants, palming at his soft cock. the look of desire in her eyes made him hunger. hunger for more. he watched as she took him in, inch by inch until her cheeks hollowed and her eyes teared up. his phone kept ringing.
he groaned and grabbed her by the back of her hair, fucking into her perfect mouth as he shut his phone off. god, it's been a while since he's felt this way. young and wanted and free. with a buck of his hips against her soft face and a groan from deep within his chest, he came. he watched with darkened eyes as she swallowed it all down, seducing him with her cleaned tongue. and as he sank into her tight warm cunt, he forgot about everything. his job, the pain, his home, and you. he forgot all about you.
thudding footsteps against the tiles roused you from your uncomfortable sleep. your bones and muscles ached as you began to sit up on the chair of the dining table. your vision was blurred and a yawn escaped your lips. what time was it?
"why are you still awake? i told you not to wait up."
his deep rumbly voice filled the space of the cold kitchen. you blinked groggily. his words were mildly slurred and his hair was mussed.
"you're not even home late, hun. it's only ten-"
"it's two in the morning."
his abrupt interjection sobered you up from your groggy state. six hours. that's how long you had been napping on the dining table, the food was all soggy and cold now and the candle had been extinguished within the two-hour mark.
"you shouldn't leave food out. we have enough pests around as it is."
he called out before trudging to the bathroom. even if it wasn't directed to you, you felt it. pest. that's what you felt like ever since that incident. the constant unanswered calls, the increasing aloofness, and the missions that went on for longer months. your desire to feel closer to him like before made you feel like a pest. you were adding burdens to his already draining work life that left him even more hollow and haunted with every case that he attended.
so you cleared the plates, sliding all of the mushy slop into the bin. the enthusiasm from earlier had fizzled leaving you with a guilt. all he had asked from you was to not stay up for him and here you were, making dinners and waiting up for him when he clearly needed the space. like a pest. you retired to your shared room and snuck into bed next to his sleeping figure. his worry lines were so deeply etched into his skin that even sleep barely made him look at peace. your fingers reached out and ghosted his arm only to retract it. he needed space.
you lay awake as memories of your earlier days with him circled your mind. working as a S.T.A.R.S. member with all of your friends and slowly losing yourself to the horrors you were subjected to day after day. and the incident.
the sound of helicopter blades and muffled voices tugged at your fading conscience. it was cold. so cold...and everything smelled like rust and metal.
"baby, can you hear me? please tell me you can hear me!"
your vision was fuzzy but there was no mistaking the face of your boyfriend as he hovered over you with tears in his eyes.
"i...can hear you... Chris..."
you muttered weakly, voice hoarse from how dry your throat and mouth felt. you gripped his fingers weakly, feeling the warmth in contrast to the freezing cold of your fingers. you wanted to tell him that you were fine and brush it off with the usual dry humour that you'd like to think you bless the people around you with but the tremors in your fingers alone were enough to sap you of energy for anything else.
and the rest of it was fuzzy. you remembered the bright white lights of the hospital, voices, darkness, and then finally waking up to Chris by your bedside. his head was pressed against his crossed arms as he napped beside you. your fingers twitched in his hand, which immediately roused him from his sleep.
"you're awake! doctor? doctor!"
his booming voice made your ears hurt but the relief at seeing him there by your side was all worth it. it was the perfect way to wake up to a bioweapons base ambush gone wrong which resulted in multiple joint replacements to resume normal life and a permanent ban from field work with the other S.T.A.R.S members. sure, it sucked, but at that time you knew Chris would be there. you saw it in his brown eyes and the way he held you to his chest to quell your sobs. he loved you and you were safe.
two years in, everything changed. it began with him stopping his usual kisses along each and every scar that littered your body when you were being intimate. and then he began losing interest. citing fatigue from the longer missions which you saw the weight of in his dulled eyes. the job was leaving him a husk of his former self. devoid of the kindness and love you once knew and felt.
the missions grew longer and even bled into the time he spent at home. you both barely spoke and laying in bed with him felt foreign. as if you were lying with a stranger. there were no more soft pet names, no more lingering touches filled with need and love, and no more spark. the relationship was dead and extinguished and yet you would still say with a definite resolve that you would follow him into the sun even if it meant leaving nothing but singed footsteps for people to remember you by. you loved him wholeheartedly and without regret even when it began to eat you alive.
"baby, are you upset at me?"
you asked him as you slid into the seat next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder. you didn't miss the way he flinched and remained stiff throughout.
"no. i told you, i'm tired."
he responded dryly. it wasn't fair. he knew it wasn't. the way he would hold her and whisper sweet nothings when he had you by his side. and he knew you deserved better. after all, you had been through. after surviving the incident that happened because of his oversight as the captain. the reason why your skin was permanently marred along with your heart. and yet here he was, treating you like such a dick. the guilt in him twists into anger. the way most emotions do when you need that familiar feeling of coping. to push away thoughts of crying and breaking down pathetically into a box and taping it down with anger. so his face began to draw into a scowl.
"why are you always so clingy?"
he asks you which makes you falter and pull away, clearly hurt. your mouth opened and closed but the strike had left your voice to disappear. and then he kissed you. a kiss filled with anger and resentment. one that you returned with tears in your eyes and touches as gentle as a feather. he hated it. he hated you and the love that you wouldn't stop giving to a man like him.
he began stripping out of his clothes, leaving you to do your own work. unlike what he used to do for you with so much tenderness in his eyes. he wouldn't even meet your gaze, wincing at the sight of your scars as he squeezed your jaw in his hands and began dipping his hands between your folds. already slick and ready for him. the way a dog would drool in excitement when his neglectful owner returns. the guilt twisted in his heart like a serrated blade as he closed his eyes and imagined her.
he imagined the way she looked up at him through fluttery falsies as she took his dick into her mouth. the way she spread her lips the way a pornstar would, to lure him into the deepest parts of her. and most of all, the way her skin was unmarred by his mistakes and her eyes free of that dulled look that cursed people like him and you. eyes free of that weight.
so he thrusted into you as he thought about her, choosing to ignore the soft sounds of discomfort you made as you began to adapt to him again. the way your hands trembled with joy as you held him. as if the sex and your pleasure didn't matter. only having him close was enough to let you unravel.
he groaned as he thrusted deeper, fingers squeezing the curve of your waist as he brought you against his skin over and over. sweat began to bead his hairline and he felt himself get closer and you were too. he knew you all too well. he pulled out and came all over your stomach. watching as it hid the scars and spread over your skin. soiling it forever.
"baby that was-"
"i'm seeing someone else."
he interrupted brusquely. you felt your heart stop and you gasped. he simply tucked his softened dick into his pants, gaze avoiding yours pointedly. you felt your head begin to spin and you barely managed to slip your shirt back on before hurling into the kitchen sink. he felt his heart sink to his stomach. when did he become so cruel towards you? the one person who would hold his hand down the scariest paths he wouldn't have walked for her? he sighed frustratedly and got dressed, leaving the house to do what he had doomed himself to.
he went to meet her.
you sat in the corner of your kitchen feeling empty and used and cold. you felt so so cold. the same kind of cold that filled you on the day you almost died. except this time, you don't think there was a warmth to return to when you opened your eyes. it left along with him as soon as he stepped out the front door of your shared house.
you died a second time that day.
__
"Captain Redfield, the bioweapons arm dealer wants to speak to you specifically."
the calling device was quickly shoved towards him. his scowl deepened as he pressed the receiver against his ear.
"ah, the high and mighty Chris Redfield. Captain of the BSAA-"
"cut the shit. what do you want from me?"
the caller laughs in a wheezing sort of way, the kind that comes out all screechy when passing through the voice modification device they had on.
"i have something...or rather...someone that you hold dear with me right now...say hello for me, sweetheart."
Chris's mind raced as the call went silent. thoughts of his sister's safety crossed his mind, followed by his squadmates, and then that girl who he saw for a while from the bar. but somewhere deep down, he knew it was you.
his fears were confirmed as soon as the voice reached his ears, his knuckles whitened as he gripped the receiver tighter in his hand.
"fuck you."
that was the sound of your voice. it was filled with the spitfire spirit you exuded back when you were partners in S.T.A.R.S.
"that's no way to talk to your kidnapper, y'know! guess i'll have to put you back on timeout..."
the voice said followed by the sound of you struggling against chains and refusing to adhere.
"you have 2 hours to deliver all the mould samples you have obtained or else...she'll go boom! got it?"
the receiver clicked to an end. he felt lightheaded. was this some sort of joke? a cruel game that fate had decided to throw him into by putting your life in his hands for the third time? he's already fucked up too many times. this can't be happening. the feeling of his body being shaken by his squad mate yanked him back to reality. the big display screen in their base had the amount of time left before the mission goes awry projected onto the screen. time was ticking. he had to do it right this time.
he had to save you. it was the only way he'd absolve his blood debt. absolve the fact that you went into that chamber instead of him and got mauled by bioweapons in his place. all under his supervision and command. he had to save you from ending up with a pathetic piece of shit loser like him who after all you had sacrificed, went out to cheat with another woman and blamed it all on you when it was him who had never learned to process his guilt and resentment for himself the right way. he had to save you this time even if it meant risking everything.
on the way there in the military convoy, Chris could not stop the repressed images of all the years you shared together from spewing haphazardly into his brain. he felt his heart twist and his body heavy. how did he just repress all of the things he had done? as if he hadn't killed the person who had done nothing but love and cherish him twice. he shakily lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale.
he remembered clearly the day after he left you. how everything began to blur and mesh together. how he could no longer see that girl from the bar because all it did was remind him of you. how his whole world is no longer anchored, leaving the pus of old wounds to bubble back to the surface. and most of all how he missed the tenderness in your voice as you sought for him day after day. last he heard of you was from Jill who mentioned how you were doing so much better now and that you became a pre-school teacher. a job that you had talked about so often after having to quit S.T.A.R.S. you were finally at a place where you were happy just for it to turn to shit once more because of him.
the suitcase of the mould samples weighed heavy in his hand as he walked into the location. as soon as he pressed his intercom, his troop would rush in and eliminate all the weirdo's guards and he would apprehend the guy himself. and then you would be safe. he would have done right by you and show you that he...was sorry.
his heavy boots thumped against the tiles as sets of guards allowed him in, checking him for any weapons before shoving him towards a set of large metal doors. he pushed it and was greeted by the sight of a masked perpetrator.
"the BSAA had really grown more efficient over the years, huh? back then it'd take up to a week for survivors to be saved. and then the rest of the infected would be too far into the virus development stage to be saved...maybe their families should have used the same strategy i did-"
the usual wannabe villain monologuing. he could care less really.
"where is she?"
the kidnapper's mask scrunched, presumably in a frown as his eyes moved to meet Chris's scowl.
"all in due time, Captain Redfield. rushing through this would only make it dull..."
Chris's scowl deepened and he dropped the suitcase onto the floor.
"the mould sample. as promised. now where the fuck is she?"
the kidnapper laughed and took the suitcase in one swift motion, unlocking it to analyse the contents of it before clucking their tongue in satisfaction.
"mmm, there it is. my long-awaited mould samples! your girlfriend is over there."
Chris's head whipped around so quickly. and he rushed towards you who had been sitting blinded and bound. with the key to your chains, he shakily began to remove your gag.
"get away from me, you freak!"
you screeched, struggling and teeth snapping to bite his fingers.
"hey! hey! it's just me! it's me, Chris...let me open your binds."
he says, holding back the relieved instinct to hug you to his chest. as soon as he is done, he clicks on his intercom to signal for his squad to start their strategic quiet ambush of the facility.
"Chris...you came."
you said quietly, catching your breath after struggling so hard. bruises and cuts littered your skin and face and it broke his heart. why did it always have to be you who bore the consequences of his mistakes? he offered you his gloved hand which you took with a slight tremble. he was about to respond when the alarms started blaring. the ambush had been exposed. the masked perpetrator turned to face Chris only to find himself staring down the barrel of Chris's gun.
"woah there...i wouldn't do that if i were you. as soon as you shoot me, gas-filled with an accelerated form of the t virus will leak into this room. so i suggest you let me go."
he said cockily, taunting Chris without fear despite the barrel aimed at his head. Chris whacked the butt of his pistol that had been hidden in his clothes to go through security undetected against the kidnapper's head hard. a loud cracking sound echoed. the kidnapper stumbled back, black mask turning damp as blood seeped through the fabric.
"oh, you're gonna regret that, Captain Redfield."
he wheezed before clicking a button on his wrist watch. the room began to fill with smoke. this was it. this had to be the accelerated T-Virus he was talking about. Chris grabbed you and began running towards the exit, shooting blindly at the maniac in the mask.
"i lied, Chris. there's no accelerated T Virus in the room. it's only in the chip i placed in your girlfriend's neck. enjoy your lover's squabble!"
and right on cue, you doubled over. it all happened so fast. he was chasing after the perpetrator when the sight of blood pouring out of your nose and mouth as you coughed, clawing at your throat ripped his attention away. Chris watched in horror, frozen in place as your body began to morph into the all too familiar late-stage undead he was so used to fighting.
you groan eerily as you begin to limp towards him. he needed to do something. call for help, get an antidote, or anything really but her knew deep down that once the virus accelerated, there was no saving you. he had to catch the perpetrator before the mould sold in the black market. he stood there, gun poised towards you. it was the only way. and as you lunged towards him with your teeth bared and ready to sink into his neck, he took the shot.
"Ch...ris..."
your voice was garbled as you slumped to the floor. his squadmates burst through the door, and the perpetrator was apprehended. but nothing will bring you back after he has killed you a third time.
just saw a tiktok of a couple having a picnic and the girl putting little daisies in her boyfriends hair while he was sketching her or something. Can’t stop thinking about that ever since - I’d love a one shot with Leon as the boyfriend!
pl4y r3qu3st3d: <<new beginnings>>
ft: <<bf any era!leon x gf reader>>
mdni+tw: <<3rr0r -- n0t 4ppl1c4bl3>>
☆/n: HI ANON TYSM FOR BEING MY FIRSTEST REQ!sorry this took forever 🥲 i hope you like it ♡ special thanks to @abadtzmaru for ideas consult!
his brown hair flitted in the wind, brushing over his face as he leaned down in focus. he was on his stomach, long legs splaying out behind him as he worked on his little task. you reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear which earned you a small smile.
"thanks, doll."
he says before returning his attention to the task at hand. you tried to take a peek at it, curious as to how this man who had never drawn anything in his life after grade school art class was taking your request so seriously. you could see the muscle in his cheek flex and his tongue poke out slightly from between his lips. the sun catching in his side profile made his stubble appear lighter and his lashes shadowy across his cheekbones.
"baby, you know i was half serious about the ‘draw me like one of your French girls’ thing for our anniversary right?"
you ask him, face quirked as you hold in a giggle. you're pretty sure he missed the reference. could you blame him considering he spent a good few quarters of his life at war with the horrors in life and his head? but you didn't care about all of that. all that mattered was that he was here with you right now. despite the cracks and tears both physically and mentally, he's here. and that's good enough. so you sat there, gazing at him as he scribbled onto the sketchpad, fresh out of the plastic.
he hasn't glanced up once, should you be worried? would it end up looking like one of those kindergartener-level drawings where you had spindly limbs and wriggly lines as hair? curiosity was eating at you.
"babe, can i-"
"no, sweetheart. not yet."
sometimes you find it almost eerie that he could read you like that. but then again it was nice to know that you were both at that level of comfort and intimacy with each other. you picked up the wine glass and swirled the red liquid around as your eyes travelled over the expanse of green around you. how did he even find this place? it was gorgeous. extensive sea of green covered in scatters of whites and yellows. it went on for ages and looked like a set for a romantic movie. even the sun seemed to be in on it with softer rays that made everything look all dreamy and soft like a physical filter of sorts.
were those little flowers called daisies? your fingers traced the grass blades before landing on a singular stem of the many flowers around. you tightened your hold and plucked it with a soft snap. they were so pretty. what did daisies mean anyway? you had always been curious about the symbolism of flowers ever since you found out that forget-me-nots symbolise true love and devotion among its many other statements. you picked up your phone and began searching it up (not without snapping a few pictures in regular mode and 0.5 of Leon working amidst stifled giggles).
new beginnings.
huh. that's interesting. because this was your 6th anniversary with him and Leon was a sucker for details when planning stuff out. you had to give credit where credit is due because this man's cheesiness (for lack of a better term) transcended all else which means he'd search for little jokes he can make on the spot when going to new places or organising outings. he was always sneaky about it but you knew. you just...knew. there's no way somebody could have that many jokes of a mediocre calibre at hand at all times. so he's pretty much a stickler for details.
you gently placed one of the flower stalks in his hair. pretty, you mused to yourself.
"doll, that better not be some sort of bug."
he jokes, hands still tracing strokes in his sketchpad.
"why would i do that? that's just weird! also don't move. i'm gonna put more daisies in your hair."
you tell him. and of course he lets you. one daisy turned into five and before you both knew it his hair was adorned in the prettiest and daintiest daisies which had a golden glow from the sun.
click
that's the fifteenth? twentieth? picture you've snapped of him that day alone.
"you're so pretty."
you mused, gently poking his stubbled cheek. he turned and gently nipped at your finger which made you yelp.
"what the heck, Leon? what's wrong with you?"
you giggled, swatting at his arm. he laughed that silly laugh of his and began sitting upright, stretching out the stiffness in his muscles. he looked like a Greek deity with his pretty blue eyes, his carved build which flexed beneath his linen dark blue button-up and black denim, and the splatters of chocolatey freckles which adorned his fair skin. oh how badly you wanted to kiss him right now. but, you saw that he had an announcement to make.
"i'm all done, babe!"
he says, grinning in that stupidly handsome way of his. the kind that made your brain turn into an overloaded hard drive with blinking squares that read 'error' all over the monitor screen. you swallowed a little and blinked before a smile of your own graced your features.
"so? did you draw me as a stick woman or...?"
he huffed in feigned annoyance barely able to contain his excited smile. akin to a puppy biting a stick he had caught from his owner's throw.
"i really tried and honestly i think it turned out pretty good."
he says and when you looked at it, your jaw dropped. he did way better than expected, capturing your essence in soft blurred strokes of pencils and even included flowers in your hair (likely a last-minute addition in accordance to you sticking stems of daisies in his hair). it was an adorable and beautiful drawing, one you would keep with you forever. he even signed it in his loopy signature in small in the far corner of the sketch and included a small note.
'to new beginnings.'
huh...your eyebrows pull into a frown and you begin to look up to ask him about it only to be faced with a glint that stunned you for a little.
"in light of the new beginnings, the daisies, surrounding us, would you start one with me again? one that's a little more commitment this time..."
he asks, eyes shifting nervously as they search your stunned gaze. your heart raced and you felt your eyes water from the overwhelming feelings that began to soar through your being. feeling your hands tremble, you leaned closer to him, barely acknowledging how the wine glasses swung to an almost topple as you pressed his forehead to yours. your fingers prickled against his stubbled cheeks and you nodded, tears flowing freely now.
you knew how hard it was for him and you had always been ready to remain in the current situation that you both had going on. you loved him and that was enough. you would wait for him time and time again if you had to because Leon was worth it. worth every second, every minute, every decade even. but for him to put aside his worries and concerns for a deeper committed relationship with you? you felt your heart swell to the brink of an explosion within your chest.
needless to say, you both went home that day with daisies in your hair, interlocked pinkies, and a matching glint on your ring fingers. (also a shit ton of pictures with you crying, him crying, both of you laughing about it and of course 0.5 versions of them all). you wouldn't have it any other way.
the burly man stood before his crying wife. his brows pulled into a frown. why was she crying when she was the perpetrator in this situation? he thought of doing so many things. he wanted to yell at her to shut the fuck up, he wanted to punch an object, he wanted to slump to the floor and bury his face in his hands like a sad child, but most of all he wanted the ringing in his head to stop. so he simply cleared his throat, face set in his usual stoic expression.
"she's not mine?"
he asked, hoping that his voice wouldn't waver. the woman before him nodded, sobbing. he felt his whole world begin to crack and shatter around him. this was somehow almost worse than all of the horrors he had faced. this woman was the one whose shoulders he had cried on, whose arms he sought on his worst days and the one he entrusted with his heart in its entirety. his family tethered him from going off into the deep end.
they were his shield of normalcy from the world he came back from every day. the salve to his wounds from battle. he felt the last shred of his heart that was left undamaged and protected shrivel and die like the rest of it. this woman had single handedly crushed Chris Redfield's heart and nothing would be able to fix it. that night, she upped and left. she mumbled something about going back to her parents' place and how they could try couples counselling. he wouldn't turn towards her as he sat on the edge of his bed. their bed. or at least it was.
as soon as the door shut and her footsteps faded behind the sound of the latch clicking in place, Chris buried his face in his hands. a deep low exhale left his frame and he trembled. god gave the worst battles to his strongest soldiers but this...this was it. the battle that broke god's strongest soldier. his fingers reached for the pack of cigarettes hidden in the drawer of his nightstand and shakily took one out. he lit it and took a deep inhale, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. along with tar and everything bad in it. he had promised her that he would quit. that he would fulfil their vows in sickness and in health. but then again, she broke it the day she decided to lay with another man.
a week later, he was shaken awake from his drunken nap by loud knocks on the door. he groaned as he got up, feeling the familiar ache and stiffness in his back and joints. he rubbed the drool from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the skin rub against prickly stubble. he opened the door, fully expecting some random insurance agent or even one of those religious door to doors but instead, he was greeted by you. you were all bright eyes and teeth as you bounded towards him, wrapping him in the warmth that he hadn't felt in a while.
"dad!"
in the mess that had been going on in reality and his head, Chris had forgotten that his daughter from college was coming home today. he swallowed and felt his chest tighten at the sight of his pretty little princess. his beloved daughter. his-
he wanted to reach out and pat your head, ruffle your hair like he always did but you weren't his daughter. that...woman said so herself. and once he began to see it, he couldn't unrealise it. the way your hair sat, the brightness of your eyes, and the way your face crinkled when you smiled. you looked all like your mother and father. nothing like him.
"dad? are you okay? you look a little uh...dishevelled..."
your voice was soft but he noticed the slight scrunch of your nose. he probably smelled, he had no idea how long he had spent on that couch drinking, smoking, and eating takeout. his hands faltered and returned limply to his side.
"been a rough week, peach."
he says, forcing a smile. your brows tugged into a frown. that face he had gotten used to seeing whenever the gears in your head turned. from when you were little up till now. your mother had not told you anything. of course she had to rub the salt in. might as well marinate him with the way things are going. throw in a couple of seasonings. he ruffled your hair and smiled as you swatted at his hand and protested playfully. the hollowness in his chest was threatening to swallow him whole.
the living room was a mess, take out boxes, cigarette butts, and empty bottles littered the area in front of the television. you called out for your mom, frowning when there was no response. a warm hand on your shoulder made you jump a little.
"hey peach, we need to talk about...some things."
your eyes widened and you swallowed softly. you saw the circles beneath dad's eyes. it was as bad as when aunty Jill was announced dead and dad had to go to Africa for a while. his eyes were red, his clothes had takeout stains, and he looked a mess. you nodded slowly and followed him to the living room where he pushed aside a bunch of boxes and whatnot aside to make space for you.
"your mom and i...we're not together anymore. and uh..."
you're not my daughter. the words echoed in his head over and over, sitting at the back of his throat all bitter. you tilted your head expectantly, bracing yourself for the next bomb of an update on your parents' sudden marriage crumble. the look in your eyes and the way your smile faltered made the words die on his tongue. he rubbed his face tiredly and bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste the familiar tang of copper.
"and...uh...she's at your nana's..."
he says finally. you saw the way his shoulders sunk and you didn't have the heart to push the topic so you inhaled deeply and fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. the living room was filled with silence. you and dad had never been the closest or the best at sharing things.
you loved him and he loved you but in the way where he would give you gifts, ruffle your hair, and tell you he was proud of you whenever he was home. not in the way where you had heart-to-hearts or spoke every other day. he was way too busy for that and as you grew, you made peace with it. he was a good dad and a good husband. heck, he was even a good man with all the protecting he's doing. and you love your dad. you really do.
"it's okay, dad. you don't have to uhm...explain anything. it's fine. are you okay though?"
you ask after a while, eyes searching his lightless gaze. that familiar tightness in his chest and the ringing in his head was proving to be too much. so he nodded and did what he did best. bottle it all up.
"i am. don't worry that little head of yours, peach. you should rest up, the trip was tiring wasn't it?"
he asks in his usual gruff voice, offering you a tired smile. the one that he used to hide things when you were little. some things will never change you suppose. so you gave him what you hoped was a comforting pat on the shoulder and headed upstairs to your room.
later that night he called you for dinner and aside from mom's seat being cold and empty, the house was back to normal. so you sat next to your dad and ate the takeout he ordered. he even got you your favourites, the dumplings and the egg noodles topped with just the right amount of chilli oil only he knew how much. it was a nice quiet with an occasional "how's school going?" and the usual small talk. but that didn't matter, dad looked less worse for wear and that was what you had hoped for.
but then the days began to grow longer and dad seemed to be staying out later and later. and when he came home, he would reek of booze and smokes. he would simply give you a ruffle on the head and disappear into his room. even mom wasn't picking up her phone. she must need the space, you thought to yourself. well, that makes the two of them.
so you decided to scratch your initial plans of focusing on family time and pulled out your laptop and webcam. at least this way you could entertain your beloved viewers and earn some pocket cash on the side. you typed out your user and adjusted your hair and make-up before turning on the livestream and webcam with a wide smile.
"hi lovies, i know i said i was gonna be away for a while but i got bored and missed all of you."
you pouted before letting out soft giggles. your fingers began tracing the metallic zipper of your hoodie.
"if you show me how much you missed me too, i'll reward all of you with something new."
you said with half-lidded eyes at the screen as your fingers toyed with the zipper. you watched as the notifications went crazy with tips pouring in. people on this app loved you. so you began to unzip your hoodie, letting the lace of your bra peek through.
"do you guys like it? it was a gift from booblover45...the top subscriber of the month."
the chat began to fill up with thanks towards the user who gifted you the lingerie set. an hour into the stream and you had your legs splayed on either side of your chair as your fingers buried themselves knuckle deep into your cunt.
"f-fuck...you guys...it feels so good...can i please cum? please...?"
your breath was laboured and your skin shimmered with sweat and colour. one of your hands reached up to play with your chest as the other continued to edge you closer and closer to your release. you bit down on your lips to stifle a louder moan. you knew dad was out but something about being dirty in your childhood room made you feel a little more shy than usual. your eyes desperately scanned your screen to see what the highest contributor chose. it was going to be either a push to your climax or more edging for god knows how long.
user booblover45 came to your rescue once more with a simple "cum for us queen." which you came to. unfortunately. you thanked the fact that you were sensitive to the edging from before for being able to cum to the phrase 'queen'. your back arched from the chair and slick ran down your fingers. you panted, putting the fingers in your mouth and licking them.
"thanks, lovies. always making me feel so good..."
you moaned breathlessly, giving them your signature fucked out smile which sent even more tips pouring in. people on this app were easy to please. you wished them goodnight and shut off your laptop feeling sleepy from all the streaming and jerking off you did. you zipped up your hoodie and wiped your fingers on the sides of your shorts as you walked towards your bed. too tired and cotton-headed to notice that your door was cracked open and a figure was stifling his grunts as he pumped into his hand.
Chris could not believe that he had just blown a load to his daughter jerking off in front of her laptop. nausea hit him so quickly that he barely made it to the washroom to hurl the night's liquor into the sink. the stickiness between his thighs and on the palm of his calloused hands made his head reel. what the fuck is wrong with him? that was his little girl! his little peach! he groaned and tapped his head against the mirror a little harder. hoping that the cold would seep into his brain and dissolve the drunken clouds in his mind. he needed a shower.
so he stepped into the shower, turned the head on to the most harshest spray setting he could and turned off the heater. he felt the sting of cold and sharp shooting water rain onto him and he rubbed his stubbled face in his hands. he felt disgusted at himself. repulsed by his actions and thoughts. but as much as he was, the image of you knuckling deep into your cunt, chest heaving, whimpers and moans slipping from your lips as you sought your release made blood rush to his cock again despite how cold the water was.
you looked just like her and nothing like him. nothing at all. so that should be okay, right? jerking off to your not daughter is...less bad...right? with a stifled groan, Chris came into his hands once more, the sharpness of the water pricking at his flushed skin. he had truly lost it. finally gone off the deep end like everybody thought he would. anger began to simmer within his chest as his heart slammed against his ribs almost painfully post-orgasm.
this wasn't his fucking fault, to begin with. if his ex-wife hadn't opened her legs for someone else, he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. if that girl hadn't been live-streaming herself jerking off, he wouldn't have seen the likeness of his ex-wife in her and he wouldn't have- he let out a frustrated grunt as he punched his fists into the cement.
he did it a few more times, watching as most of the brownish red from his split knuckles washed away from the webbed cracks where he hit. the loud sounds must have woken her up. She knocked on the door of the bathroom gingerly asking if he was okay. the sound of rushing water ceased and the door was thrown open so suddenly that she flinched backwards, surprise and concern etched all over her face.
"get out of my room."
he says coldly, brows furrowed and eyes filled with a look she had never seen before in all her years of knowing him. the look sent a chill down her spine.
"d-dad your knuckles...they're-"
her voice came out in an almost squeak as she pointed out how bloody and mashed his knuckles looked. the glare that he sent her way sent her scampering out of the room as fast as her smaller frame could take her. Chris found his own eyes lingering on the way her hoodie and shorts hugged her figure as she ran off. the way her skin looked so soft that it made his mouth water. after all this time spent learning how to kill monsters, Chris Redfield has turned into a monster himself.
the next two weeks, dad barely acknowledged you. the cold shoulder he gave you on top of leaving the house every day was making the situation at home the tensest it has ever been. your mom was still offline and when you called your grandparents' house, they told you to give her some more time. you couldn't possibly stand a month of this! you needed to get dad to open up and figure out what you did to piss him off. he was never like this. in fact, his cold demeanour and silent treatment were beginning to affect your mental state.
"dad, are you avoiding me?"
silence.
"dad this is getting really stupid. first mom just goes off the grid and now you're gonna give me the cold shoulder too?"
he stood up, without even sparing you a glance before grabbing his car keys and leaving for the night. most likely for another night of drinking and coming home at the ass crack of dawn to just keel over on the couch and stink up the whole living room with the stench of booze. the door slammed shut behind him and you stood there feeling lost and empty. why the fuck is this happening? what is wrong with everybody? all you wanted was a peaceful one-month school break at home. not whatever the hell this was. you felt your heart pound in your chest and a tension beginning to build at the forefront of your temple.
maybe making a video would help to release it. orgasms were supposed to help with migraines and talking to your audiences might help take your mind off things. so just like before, you slip into the latest lingerie purchased by a certain user booblover45. you got into position and began to set things up.
"hi, my darlings how are you guys feeling today?"
you started, smiling all sweet and pretty into the camera. as usual the replies steadily streamed in along with the view count. the usual "better now that you're online", "we love you!!", and "so horny for you baby"s began to fill the screen. you giggle softly feeling the familiar boost of dizzying validation flood into your system and everything falls into rhythm. the slipping off the hoodie on your shoulders, your fingers tracing down your stomach to the lacy band of your latest lingerie. the soft clicking sounds as you began to rub the swell of your clit and scissor yourself open for the camera.
you were oblivious to the sound of the front door unlocking earlier than usual. the way heat rushed to a certain someone's ears as the sounds of your stifled needy moans floated through the spaces of your empty home. and the way his stiff jeans tightened around his lower waist in a painfully restrictive manner.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
his deep booming voice sent chills down your spine. you shot up from your seat, almost smashing your laptop shut. your breathing grew quicker as he stepped closer towards you, backing you up against your desk where your laptop sat. your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. you felt your blood run cold as you struggled to pull your hoodie's zipper up to hide from his darkening gaze.
"d-dad you didn't knock i-"
you began to say before he grabbed your wrists harshly, making you wince.
"don't play stupid with me. i know what you've been up to, slut."
you froze. his mouth was moving but the words sounded nothing like him at all. he looked so different too, filled with an emotion that you couldn't describe. he was...terrifying. you felt your heart begin to pound.
"w-what? dad, why would you say that?"
you sputtered out, staring at him with widened fearful eyes. his grip on your wrists tightened even more.
"don't call me that."
your chest began to tighten and tears began to blur your vision. confusion was plastered all over your face. now if he wasn't so pissed, his heart would have sunk to his ass but the way you were crying sounded just like her. like that stupid slut. like mother likes daughter.
"no daughter of mine would ever do something so disgusting like spreading her legs for strangers on the internet!"
he practically roared in your face which only served to make you tear up even more.
"daddy i'm sorry. i-"
you tried using the name you used to call him to soften his heart but he was too far gone. his eyes were dark, pupils swallowing all of the kind brown up as he stared at you with a look of almost hunger. he yanked you by your wrist towards the bed and tossed you onto it with such ease. you scrambled to adjust your hoodie and apologise even more but the loud sound of ripping shattered your frantic train of thought. he had ripped your hoodie up and tossed it aside, leaving you in just your lingerie.
"fucking disgusting."
he scowls as he grips your arm bruisingly and pulls you over his lap.
"slutty little girls like you deserve to be punished don't you think? so they won't end up being like their mothers..."
he snarled as he landed swat after swat onto your ass. you shrieked in pain, squirming and struggling against his iron grip. broken apologies and sobs were the only things leaving your mouth for what felt like forever. your ass felt like it was on fire but also extremely numb.
"daddy i'm sorry. it hurts so bad i'm sorry..."
you begged, too weak and in pain to squirm as hard. he gripped the fat of your ass which made you shriek hoarsely once more before he flipped you over onto your back. he spread your legs apart with his hands and lowered his fingers towards the lace clothing of your soaked cunt. why were you soaked? it hurt. everything hurts. and yet all of that combined with the fact that your dad was throwing you around like a ragdoll was making you incredibly wet. you could feel the stickiness dribble down your inner thighs.
he began bunching up what little fabric of the lace and pulling it upwards, the roughness of it adding friction to your sensitive cunt. you whimpered, squirming to get away so that he wouldn't see what a mess he had turned you into in his fit of rage and so-called discipline. his free hand grabbed onto your hips bruisingly as he held you in place.
"stop squirming. you can show all of that to strangers on the internet but not your daddy?"
he mocked in his throaty voice. you shoved weakly at his chest, the strength with which he held you depleting your own. it was pointless. dad was built with muscle and stone. you were powerless. nothing but a prey snared in his predatory hold. his hands began to roam the soft expanse of your skin, rough fingers and callouses scratching as they trailed.
he began groping your tits roughly making you whine in pain as tears continued rolling down your face. you were hiccupping from too much sobbing at this point but all your desperate babbles fell on deaf ears. he had stepped off the edge of his conscience. the alcohol he had consumed that night being the final push he needed. you were at the mercy of a corrupt figure of a hero. a stranger in the body of your own father.
as your mind began to slip into a haze of pain, confusion, and upset, the rustling sound of his shirt being discarded along with the sound of his denim jeans unzipping felt like being dunked in ice-cold water. it was the moment your fate was truly sealed.
"you look just like that bitch. so fucking sexy and slutty. if only she could keep her legs closed. if only."
he muttered through gritted teeth before spitting a glob onto your dribbling cunt.
"you're so wet already. consider this spit a favour. for old times' sake with your old daddy yeah?"
he says as he rubbed his huge cock with his hands a few times. the way it hung from his waist beneath his slightly softened belly even as he was half hard at the moment was terrifying.
"daddy it's my first time. you're...you're too big!"
you whispered frantically, eyes widening in fear. he scoffed.
"first time? you expect me to believe that you stupid slut?"
he sneered tapping the lightly-haired heft of his dick onto your sopping cunt. you shiver and squeeze your eyes shut in fear and trepidation. your heart was pounding out of your chest you were sure he could probably see its outline from beneath your tits. your fingers clutched at your sheets, knuckles whitening.
the blunt pain hit you so hard you felt winded, your vision filling up with spots of black and your lungs emptied momentarily as a guttural shriek left your throat. he was all the way in, the spit and slick making it slip in easier but not any less painful considering the sheer girth of him. he let out a groan as he tore through the vice-like grip of your virgin cunt.
"so fucking tight. i could almost believe you're a virgin."
he slurs, chest heaving from how snug he felt. his huge hand reached up to your face as he mushed the softness of your cheeks between his fingers. you could feel him place the weight of his body on you, the softened rigidness of his older body pressed onto your own, making breathing even harder than it already was. you clawed at the tough of his biceps, drawing red pearls from the indents your nails left. he began pounding into you purposefully slow, letting you hear every lewd slap of his balls against your ass and the tip of his cock spearing against your cervix. you could feel him stirring your insides into mush with every strained grunt and thrust.
"shit...you're so tight and wet for me...at least your slut of a mom was good for something."
he grunts against your ear, his stomach pressing against the shape of his dick that bulged as he continued to pound into you. you were letting out choked moans that were in sync with his movements. the overwhelming feelings and stimulation mixed with your torrent of thoughts was making everything feel so unreal and distant. all you could focus on was how your insides felt like slush, how lewd the sounds were, and how you were beginning to like the feeling of your dad taking you the way he is now.
you were driving him crazier with each cry, making him almost feral as he got even harder inside of your slutty cunt. the way he hulked over your body, the way he was chasing his own high, and the way he felt deserving of this pleasure was addling his brain. all he could think of was how cute his little peach was as she cried and quivered beneath him. and as your cunt helplessly tightened around him despite all of it being so twisted, he twitched and came inside of you feeling hot ropes of his release pump into you as you shook and mewled.
"fuuuckkk can't believe you came so hard for daddy as he used you for his own...so disgusting..."
he moaned as he continued to push his seed deeper into your womb. you were babbling brokenly too fucked out to even comprehend anything as your cunt milked him dry from your high. his waist was splattered in droplets from the burst of your release, dripping off of his scarred skin.
you felt yourself get lifted with ease and the familiar blinking light of your set-up entering your sight. what? what was going on? why was- the light and dinging from your buzzing chat began going crazy and your heart even further down to the pits of your ass. he had turned your livestream back on...
you felt your knees being folded to your chest and your thighs spread, back pressed firmly against dad's firm and hairy chest. he was holding you in a full nelson, bearing your all for your stream to see.
"you like being a slut online right? let me show them how your daddy uses your greedy little cunt. show them how you like being messed up by your daddy."
he whispered against the shell of your ear, setting your whole body ablaze with heat. the slick and cum from earlier dripped onto the floor as he began to fuck into you with ease. he held you with no effort at all, a ragdoll at his mercy. you felt the familiar pleasure begin to build and override the burn in your limbs from the way he held you. the chats and tips began flooding in, causing your stream to lag at times which had never happened before. his other hand that was groping at your tits travelled down to your clit and began rubbing and pinching the puffiness as he thrust.
your senses began to overload, the sensitivity from before leaving you almost hysterical. you were twitching in his hold as your sensitivity heightened insanely. he wanted you to squirt again. let the whole internet see you as the slut you truly are. his arms flexed and his position remained upright as he continued to use you like a pocket pussy. like you were never his daughter.
you could feel his sweat sticking to your back and the only sounds were your own breathless yelling moans, the squelching and his groans. you saw stars and with a loud keening moan akin to those in pornography exaggerations, your release squirted onto the lens of your webcam and all over your desk and yourself. he began slapping at your clit, causing your body to keel over in his grip while twitching and jerking from overstimulation.
your field of vision narrowed to pinpricks and you passed out. he watched your head slump forward, drool dribbling down from your lips to his forearms. the chat was dinging nonstop at this point, tips pouring in endlessly. with one hand, he hauled you over his shoulder while the other slammed your laptop shut after clicking the 'end stream' confirmation. his skin was flushed and sweat dripped from his brows and hairline. his back and body were beginning to ache from how hard he went. he himself was a bit shocked at the vigour at which he fucked you with.
he almost felt like he was in his twenties again (almost because the ache and throbbing in his bones were beginning to hit). except in his twenties, he was absorbed with work to pay for Claire's college fees and pay for his newly wedded family needs and eventually your needs too because you were his kid. or at least that was what he thought at that time.
he watched your fucked out form on your childhood bed and was filled with a dread that was akin to his first-ever mission in the Arklay mountains. what the fuck had he done? he needed a drink. one to seal the fate of his liver failing on him. the same path a pal of his was heading down. maybe Leon was onto something with his alcoholism. he grabbed the tissues off your nightstand and began to clumsily clean you up, hands shaking beyond belief as he saw the blood and cum leaking out of your used hole.
he felt bile rising in his throat but he pushed on, making sure you were all cleaned up. in your sleep, you were his little peach. you looked so peaceful and sweet. nothing like the whore spreading her legs for the camera. nothing like his ex-wife, your mom. he wiped away the sweat from his forehead and swallowed down the bike that began to rise once more. he pressed a chaste kiss to your hairline and began to stand up to leave, groaning a little from the tightness in his spine. he was one step towards the door when a soft hoarse voice called weakly for him.
"daddy? could you...stay?"
your voice snipped the strings of his shrivelled heart, sealing his fate as your fingers curled around his own. like you used to do when you were small. Chris began to feel breathless and sick. he yanked his hand away and dashed to the toilet, hurling his guts out. his thoughts raced and each beat of his heart made his head spin even more. he cradled his head in the palms of his hand and let out a sob from the deepest depths of his chest.
how the fuck was he supposed to live with himself when he had fucked his stepdaughter who still thought that they were related by blood? how could he live with himself when his head begins to fill with the thoughts of how much further he wanted to break you and hear you call him daddy again while wearing your mom's face? he regretted nothing. only grieving the death of his old heroic identity as he embraced the flawed humanity that had resided within him all along.
Chris Redfield was no hero. neither was he a villain. he was a human being, a creature of flaw and sin.
as you slept, your phone buzzed with text messages and missed calls from your mom.
"honey, we need to talk. your real dad is here to see you. it's about time we talked about this in the open. please, tell your dad that i'm sorry and that i miss him. love you and please call me back when you see this! - mom"
now playing: <fucking your demons (literally)> 00:00/1:30:00
starring: re4r demon (?)/Leon x recluse-ish/reader
MDNI + tw: horror, dubcon/noncon, smut, masturbation, bad mental health depictions, implied trauma/abuse, corruption, angst, monster fucking, creampie (?), blood and pain depictions, squirting, toxic
☆ star's note: special thanks to @cherubify for beta reading ❤️ this was inspired by that one convo i had with @dilfloving ages ago about monster fucking LOL hope yall enjoy 🫶
you remember the funeral clear as day. you were seated near the front, forced into stiff black clothes you would never wear in other instances. speaker after speaker went and droned on and on about what great people your parents were, how they would be missed, and how sad you were about losing them. well…at least how sad you were supposed to be because you didn’t feel anything really. your eyes kept flitting to the clock behind the podium where the next speaker stood, time was oozing by relentlessly and your leg bouncing began to worsen.
“so will the daughter please stand in front here to present a eulogy for the two deceased?”
it sounded so far away. everything did. a sharp pinch in your side snapped you out of it. grandma was sat next to you and her eyes bored holes into your own sockets. the bouncing of your legs ceased immediately. she pointedly looked at the podium and turned towards you, a gesture for you to get up there and give a parting speech for your dead parents. even grandma wasn’t crying so why did you have to? the only good thing they had ever done for you was leaving the house and life insurance behind.
you staggered forward in a daze, feeling your feet drag up the stairs of the podium. you watched your fingers whiten as you gripped onto the wood and winced as the interference rang sharp through the echoing space. the faces that stared up at you were fuzzing and melting together. they were bored, upset, angry, judging, and melding together like hot metal. your skin crawled and you felt queasy. you could hear your breath blowing into the mic like some sort of loser creep breathing down their victim’s neck. your vision blurred and you retched, hurling to the side of the podium. some people rushed up towards you, noses scrunched and eyes filled with disgust hidden within the sheer veil of sympathy.
and then you were home. you don’t know how long you stood in your doorway smelling like vomit and patheticness. grandma had dropped you off, refusing to even look at you when she did. you had never been a sight for sore eyes. rather, you induced eye soreness. so you shrugged off your stiff constricted clothes and kicked it to the side leaving you in a loose tank top and shorts you hadn’t bothered to take off earlier when grandma made you put on all of those presentable grieving clothes. you shuffled to your bedroom, the only place in that whole house that had felt even remotely like home to you and plopped on your worn and creaking gaming chair.
even in their death, your habit of locking your room door behind you stayed. their death meant that you were free but you had always been good at trapping yourself in your own head. you could make intangible threats feel like physical hands around your throat and your demons come alive. you slipped on your headphones, fingers moving on autopilot as it clacked across your dusty greasy keyboard. the familiar four letter word on an incognito browser popped up and results loaded up. you sighed, sinking deeper into your chair and spreading your legs. your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts and began sliding into your dry folds.
moaning and panting began to fill your ears as the two actors on screen began to get it on. the man was rutting into the woman like a beast in heat, grunting and drooling like one too. and the woman was mewling with such a shrill intensity, cowling with her back arched as loud plapping sounds echoed in their filming room. her eyes were rolled back and her neck was tilted back from how he yanked her hair with every thrust. your fingers toyed with your clit, rubbing circles, giving it pinches, tugs, everything you could think of to start the slick flowing so that you could thrust into your dry cunt less painfully.
video after video played and your clit was beginning to get sore. nothing was oozing out. your face scrunched in frustration. with one hand, you began to scour through catalogues of every genre. soft porn wasn’t working and neither were rougher sex videos. even those borderline illegal ones weren’t doing it. this must be god’s way of punishing you for wanting to jerk off right after your parents’s funeral. you groaned in exasperation. the need was there but your body was refusing you the fruits of your labour. so you forced your fingers down your throat, gagging and coughing to coat it with the perfect type of saliva. the one that was slippery enough.
you pulled it out, watching the stretch of dribble down your lips and onto your clothes. the slipperiness slipped easily between the fold of your cunt and you began thrusting it upwards, teeth gritting at the burn from how dry it is and from the stretch. you never got used to it. you began thrusting, fingers curling aimlessly within your cunt to find that sweet spot everybody talks about. your face was all scrunched and you began to get wetter. your fingers grazed against a spot that made you shudder so you continued curling against it.
“you’re a useless child.”
“why aren’t you smart enough?”
“we are literally stuck in an unhappy marriage because of you.”
“i should have aborted you when i had the chance.”
“if only you were a son, maybe i would understand you better.”
the whispers were finally fading out, the glares, the pain, and the sounds of banging doors dissolved into nothing. your stomach began to coil. tighter and tighter. you bit the back of your free hand as your hips bucked desperately against your fingers, grasping and clawing at the high that was beginning to peak. and then it snapped and you came. harder than you had in a while. your chest rose and fell rapidly, head filling with cotton and heart slamming against your ribs. your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. this was the only way you could sleep.
even if it was just for a moment, you felt a warmth akin to an embrace as you fell asleep. what you assumed an embrace felt like anyway.
as your heaving slowed and bluelight from your monitor cradled your face and wispy lashes, you fail to notice the glowing eyes from the corner of the room. a silhouette shrouded in thick black smoke filling into the room, dragging along with it the feeling of impending doom and horrors beyond mankind’s imagination. it began gliding closer to you, your monitor screen growing static and the room dropping in temperature.
you shivered a little, teeth chattering slightly as he closed in. clawed fingers emerged from the black shrouds and traced over your features with a gentle curiousity. the creature’s head tilted as it observed the way you were sleeping. neck bent awkwardly, one hand down your shorts, and a…sweet smell. a long black tongue like appendage ran itself across his sharp canines. you smelled sweet. so much so that he could taste it.
tiny tendrils of smoke erupted from his clawed fingers seeping itself into your mind. he groaned as he skimmed through your thoughts, eating at your every memory and filling up the chewed up holes with more pain and hurt. you brows drew into a scowl and your face scrunched. he grins. you’ve always looked beautiful in a tragic way. the more pain he filled you with the more nightmarish the world in your head becomes. but you must have wanted this all along because after all, you were the one that kept feeding off your essence and pain to him.
he watched cold pearls of sweat bead at your hairline and your breathing grow erratic. did he overdo it again? he couldn’t help himself…you always looked so pretty waking up all disoriented and exuding that…that feeling that he had grown to miss over the years. fear. he longed to hear your voice that you had locked away for far too long. a scream, a yell, and those sweet whimpers you let out when you watch those brain melting human films of them mating with one another. he let out a loud guttural moan that sounded like a million shards of glass exploding and yet nothing at the same time. a million voices all melded into one.
he pressed his cold smoky lips against your hairline, black tongue darting to capture the beads of sweat that felt. he whispered straight into your mind.
“you’re mine.”
you woke up gasping and choking for air, fingers clawing at your throat. your nose was stuffed and your head felt like it had been split in half by a hatchet. your vision swam and there was blood, all over the front of your tank top. you were panting frantically, fingers reaching up to your nose and pulling away covered in a sticky crimson that dripped down your forearms. you felt your chest tighten and then your vision darkened.
you wake up the next day, coughing. an unexplainable throbbing in your head and an ache in your ribs. and there was also the blood. lots of it down the front of your tank top and even on your shorts. must have slept weird and slammed your head onto the desk or something. you groaned and dragged yourself to the bathroom.
time seemed to ebb away from then. oozing past your grasp and you’re always a second too late. you’d blink and it’d be day. another blink and it’s night. the only thing telling you the day and date was the small little rectangle on the bottom of your monitor but the dust, it was beginning to pile.
the only thing you remember is flashes of your favourite game that had become a routine activity, brain rotting videos that you simply scrolled down endlessly on autopilot, and then jacking off so that you could sleep. it was the only time you could get that perpetual quease in your stomach to settle and your head to be freed from the reign of all the memories you wish would have been kept under lock and key from your own mind.
the nosebleed hadn’t happened in a while now but the feverish cold and the paranoia never left. you needed to fix the heater. you made a mental note but with each passing day, the note gets murkier and murkier. there was something wrong about this house. something or someone was watching you. you could see flashes of dark shadows in your peripherals that disappear whenever you turned. no matter how fast you whipped around. and then there were those eyes that stared at you in the dark when your eyes were bleary from sleep. eyes so blue and void they made your skin crawl.
there was also that one time you were washing your face and then your ears started ringing. when you looked into the mirror you saw him. pale skin, soft blonde hair, and blue eyes. you froze, scream dying in your throat. he was beautiful and oh so familiar. and then he grinned inhumanly wide, baring teeth that glinted and dripped with tendrils of black smoke as he unhinged his jaws beyond anything humanly possible. his being shrouds in smoke and you shriek. so loud that you were sure it would alert your neighbours. or someone. but…nobody came.
you hadn’t felt this way in awhile. you hadn’t felt anything really but the fear that gripped you with every passing day was growing to be too much. jerking off was no longer helping. sleeping always ended up with paralysis as those blue eyes and that haunting face keeps coming closer and closer. so you shakily picked up your dusty home phone, and clicked numbers that felt so foreign to you. grandma would come to help, right? you were family after all. she had to. you needed to get out of there now. you needed help-
“the number that you have dialled is not available.”
the robotic voice repeated over and over into your ears as you trembled and shook.
“fuck! fuck! fuck! pick up grandma. please. please…”
you whispered, eyes tearing up. and then the line grew static. that ring in your ears started again and you pushed your fingers into your ears. your heart was pounding and you started running to the door, ignoring the burn from muscle disuse. your fingers latched onto the doorknob, another hand shakily undoing the locks.
“you’re leaving?”
his words hit you with an agonising pain that made you nauseous, you gagged. crimson droplets dripped endlessly from your nose. your head felt like it was going to explode from the amount of pressure.1
“get out of my head! please!”
you shriek in agony, vision blurring with tears as you doubled over coughing. you could taste the blood in your mouth.
“this is the only way to speak to you, darling.”
the creature or man or whatever it was that stood before you tilted his head. he looked almost hurt and confused by your anger. you felt like someone had poured a cold bucket of ice down the back of your shirt. darling? what the fuck is going on?
“s-stay back! you have to stay back!!”
you yell with a waver as he stepped closer, plumes of black smoke lining his every step.
“you don’t remember me.”
he spoke into your head again, the pain almost blinding you once more. remember? you don’t…remember…? he placed a clawed hand onto your head, the cold surface of his hand making you shiver. and then you saw him. that blonde boy who sat by your hunched over crying figure every night when you were little. he would hold your hand and keep your doors locked. he would shut your ears when they banged on your doors, and he would lap at your wounds when they hurt you. tears brewed in your eyes and they rolled warmly down your blood smeared cheeks. Leon.
you remembered him now.
and then the warm golden memories began to dim and flashes of you growing up began to play. how the light in your eyes faded to nothing, how you would immerse yourself in games for day, how you would continue to neglect and lose yourself down a spiral of self hatred and hatred for the world. how apathy took the light out of everything for you, how Leon began to fade despite how he begged you to listen. how he was hurting because you were hurting. all of it fell on deaf ears, you could no longer see or hear or connect with him. you were both disconnected from each other, spiralling into an agony of your doing.
you watched yourself through his eyes, how his love and care for you began to be shrouded with determination to reach you again. how he began to feed off of your hate and pain, gagging at the taste of the black and red essence that he continued to guzzle down. he had to reach you. he had to. even if it meant his eyes losing it’s shine, his angelic shimmer turning into dark murky smoke, and his skin losing all the warmth that he once held you with. he no longer cringed away from the taste, he had grown addicted. if this was the love you chose to feed him, he would happily accept it. long for it even. all if it means he can reach you again. his little darling.
all you felt was guilt, the tears and the blood running down your face had become one. you curled in on yourself, body pressed against the hard cold floor. sob after sob wrecked through your broken form.
“i’m sorry, Leon. i’m so sorry…”
you mumbled with barely any coherence. he watches you with a distant look before laying by your side and wrapping his cold arms around you. his smoke enveloped you in a cold that set off every alarm in your body, filling you with dread but you simply held on.
and then he began to lap at your tears, long blackened appendage swiping at the mixture of blood and tears as his claws jabbed uncomfortably against your body. his whole being seemed to shift and change without ration. and then his tongue swiped against your lips. he began to lean in closer.
“let me take care of you, darling.”
your eyes rolled as he spoke and in your pained state, he slipped his tongue between your lips and began kissing you. his sharp canines pricked at your lips and his tongue was shoved down your throat so far you could barely breathe. your fingers pressed at his shoulders trying to get a breath but he continued claws lightly scratching your skin as it trailed lower. the dread at the pits of your stomach was becoming overwhelming.
“L-leon what are you doing?”
your voice trembled as he materialised long tendrils of smoke which began to seep beneath your shirt. he hiked it up with one tentacle while the other two began to caress at your tits. you flinched at the cold. he wordlessly dipped his head to bury his face into your chest. he had mini tendrils growing from his main ones, tugging at your nipples and pulling them as he ran his tongue over it.
“ngh Leon what-”
he shoved two fingers down your throat, gagging you effectively as it massaged your tongue. it tasted like nothing, just pressure. as you instinctively sucked on his fingers, another tentacle began to tug at your waistband. your fingers curled into the floor as it rubbed at your warm folds.
“so sweet. need more.”
his voice in your head sounded strained. you let out a cry everytime he spoke, blood continuously streaming. the pain felt like throbbing behind your eyes. a purr like sound emanated from him, his blue eyes stared at you as he took both your nipples into his mouth. his sharp teeth sunk into them making you cringe and hiss as he licks the pain anf blood away. just like he used to in the past. always lapping at your wounds like a loyal dog.
his tentacle in your pants began to spread your folds at the same time he sat up and spread your legs. the amount of tentacles were dizzying and the cold was making your teeth chatter. your legs were spread and you were bare as he knelt between them. you watched his tongue flit out of his mouth as he began to bury his face into your soaked cunt. he gave your inner thigh a bite that made you whimper before stuffing his inhumanly long tongue up your cunt. it was coarse and it reached into you like you had never felt before.
his eyes were fixed on yours as his tongue continued to fuck into you, curling relentlessly against your sweet spot over and over, eliciting mewls and whines from your throat. and when he pulled away with strings of your slick bridging his mouth and your cunt, you felt empty. he seemed to relish in the taste of you as his tongue returned to his mouth, eyes closed and a soft keening sound that sounded like multiple voices from his core erupted. your ears began to ring again but the bliss from having your hole tongued relentlessly was making it all fuzzy.
something cold and large pressed against your folds. your eyes widened in your haze and he grins at you as he loomed over your frame. you freeze as it began to press into you, tip stretching you out and the rest beginning to bully it’s way into your sopping hole.
“jesus! Leon s’too big! fuck i-”
incoherent babbles spilled and dribbled from your bloody lips along with drool. he began thrusting into you, canines latched onto your collar bones. his other tentacles pressed against your ass, your tits, and even in your mouth. they all felt like cold pressure making home within you. your back began to arch as he pulled one orgasm after another from your shaking form.
his tentacle dipped into your lower stomach and you began to feel a push on your womb. he was pressing it down to meet the thrusts of his cock (?) as he growled against the shell of your ear. you began to see stars and your voice was choked.
“mine. mine. mine. you’re perfect, darling.”
throbbing pain, blood, your vision was darkening and the pleasure was too much. you squirted all over his form and felt him twitch before he filled you up with something that felt cold and sent your nerves into a frenzy. he smiles at you, canines peeking and you found your hazy mind follow suit. his rough fingers swiped away the blood that had dripped from your nose and pooled on your upper lip. he licked his fingers and curled around you like a satisfied cat would, enveloping your body in his cold one. you felt so full, cold ooze leaking down your thighs. it felt like a permanent weight of anxiety had pooled at the pits of your stomach.
and as you laid there, head throbbing and blank with cold substances leaking out of you, you felt empty. helpless and filled with a despair like no other. this was your fault after all. you had made your bed and now you had to lie in it. he gently strokes your hair, filling your senses with fight or flight as blood and tears dribbled down your face.
“we’re finally together again, darling. just us against everything. the way it’s supposed to be.”
and in despair’s embrace you found a semblance of comfort. a warmth in his freezing touches and a void to fill the caverns of your chest. you were never meant for a happy ending but at least, you weren’t alone anymore.
your fake moans were cut off by a sharp slap on the face. it stung and your eyes watered.
"you know i don't like dirty mouthed sluts."
the man above you hissed, his cock scraping the inside of your pussy and pounding against your cervix painfully. you clawed at his back a little, vision spotting and blurring. it hurt. it hurt so much. the safe word was teetering at the tip of your tongue.
"so tight, fuck-"
the man grunted like a beast above you, rutting his hips painfully flush against yours. your breath came in short gasps and finally, mercy came upon you as he ejaculated, the rubber of the condom swelling against your bruised cervix. you managed to fake a moan and manually clench your walls. a professional through and through.
"so good baby, love when you fu- love me so roughly..."
you said, smiling breathlessly. the man smirked proudly, as he pulled out his flaccid dick. he took his cum filled condom and poured all of his filthy seed over your face. it burned your eyes and left your lips tasting of bitter-y salt. he taps your face and whips out his phone.
"b-baby, you can't take pictures-"
slap
your face burned and the sting in your eyes seemed to worsen.
"i paid for this, slut. now take the money and shut your fucking mouth."
the man says, slapping the wad of cash against the sticky filth on your face before zipping up his pants and leaving. finally, it was over.
you staggered to the toilet, body covered in discoloured blooms where he slapped and pinched all for his own pleasure. you washed out your eyes and face, scrubbing it as if to reveal a whole new layer of skin. tears fell from your eyes and you couldn't pinpoint what it was from. the semen, the soreness of your body, or the void that seemed to be swallowing you whole from the inside out.
customer satisfaction was the determining factor between having saltine crackers for all three meals for a while or having something more warm and filling. so you ran your eyes under cold water, scrubbed yourself clean and made sure to reduce the damage on your skin as much as you could. and the whole time, you willed thoughts of him and his warmth as far away from your stream of conscience. well, as far away as you could.
your knees buckled and you slumped onto the cold toilet floor. the freezing cold felt nice against your stinging ass and exposed skin. it numbed the rawness and helped to ground your head. you couldn't have the next client seeing you in this state. you had to be a high quality cheap fuck or Dennis your pimp (also known as the counter for the sleazy motel you lived in) would deduct your pay. also because it might be him but, you didn’t really want to dwell on that thought.
damage was only acceptable when it's inside. whether it be mental or an actual bleeding in your organs. those were one of the first few things Dennis told you when you started. and also the fact that you were only to be sent for medical check ups in the case of STDs or near death. he didn't want you to damage the reputation of his crumbling neon lighted brick and mortar cesspool haven. so you splashed freezing cold water onto your face as you stood before the mildewed sink. at least the water was clean.
you looked up at the water stained mirror and your reflection stared back at you. they were a little red-ish and maybe a slightly different colour as well but there was no mistaking it. it was his eyes. Leon's eyes. you dabbed your face dry with a paper towel, took a deep breath before putting rouge onto your cheekbones and your lips. you drew on your trademark eyeliner and placed rouge on the corner of your eyes too. you felt like a mortician dressing the dead. covering rot with powder and skill.
you put on your skimpy work clothes and sat on the bed. 3 hours. you had 3 more hours before he comes over for his session. you had to look nice and tidy because he deserved at least that. you frowned a little at the thought. for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out when this little soft spot for a certain client of yours began to bloom. men were gross lustful creatures who take and take and leave nothing behind. but when you laid in his warm arms from that day almost a whole year ago with no expectations aside from just existing and holding the shards of him together, it feels different.
the click ticked by and all you could do was watch the paint peel, hoping that it would be him at that door and nobody else. as if on cue, three soft raps against your door could be heard. you found yourself floating towards it immediately, hand on cold metal as you opened it to greet him.
"hi there, hun. thought you weren't gonna show."
you say, smile a little weak but genuine for him. he smiles back, in the usual small little tug of his lips. but it was genuine and your heart warmed.
"missed you more, doll."
he replied which made you laugh a little. he stepped into the room and pulled you into an embrace as soon as the door closed and locked behind him. his head laid in the crook of your neck and his long hair tickled your skin as he inhaled the scent of your cheap perfume and powder. you could see the weight of his worries and unspoken burdens begin to lift off of him.
"tough day, hun?"
you ask him.
"all better now that i'm here, doll."
he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. after a while, he peppered kisses against your neck lazily and as always you ended up laying with him in bed doing nothing but holding and kissing each other. his weight felt so nice atop of you. like when a cat sits on your chest and purrs or even a weighted blanket. it's been awhile since you've managed to enjoy life's simple pleasures. or even any pleasure at all if you're being honest. below average and mediocre sex with pent up men from all walks of life was tiring. you were tired of sex and how it was never fulfilling in any way. you felt used and objectified. but for now, you felt…whole.
sometimes you wonder if your parents hadn't owed such a debt to Dennis, you would be in an office job right now. plush computer chairs that roll, feet secured in snug little pumps that don't give you sores like the kind you get when you wore those cheap plastic-y heels that bit into your skin, and the quiet air filled with the clacking of keys and soft greetings. your cheeks felt warm and wet, and your chest tightened in an almost foreign way. you blinked out of your daze only to face Leon who looked at you with a gaze so soft, it would bring a flutter to your dead shrivelled heart.
"doll, you're...crying."
his tone was stiff but his intent was clear as day as it swirled around in his beautiful blue eyes. his words sounded so muddled and strange.
"what?"
you asked him. your vision was blurring again. you reached the pads of your fingers to your eyes and gently touched it. you pulled them away only to find them soaked with tears.
"oh- oh no. i'm...so sorry, Leon i-"
you began to stumble with your words, hurriedly wiping away the tears on the back of your hands. but no matter what you did, they kept falling. you began to grow frantic, hands trembling as your sniffling grew. his eyes watched you with an unreadable gaze. your heart began to thud in the base of your ears and your breathing quickened. he was going to tell on you, you're gonna-
"hey hey breathe for me, doll."
he says, rough and larger hands wrapping around your fingers. he wiped away your tears and pulled you tighter against him, pressing kisses into your hairline. a sob ripped from your chest and you shook in his hold. his bare skin was warm against your own, his heartbeat pressed against your own. he rubbed your back soothingly, running his fingers over your hair.
"it's okay, doll. just keep breathing for me okay? let it all out."
his voice washes over you like warm water after a long day with just the perfect roughness around the edges. an almost drawl. you sank deeper into his arms and he pressed his soft lips against the crown of your head. he smelled like a heady mix of skin and cologne and...no whiskey? again? that was...something...
"you didn't drink again today..."
you noted in a voice muffled against his warm skin. you felt him still against you, seemingly mulling that over in his pretty head.
"it seems so, doll."
he finally says. you looked up and traced his lips gently, sending goosebumps down his spine. you were gorgeous and he knew that. the sweetest little thing he had seen in a while. and he had seen...a few.
"i'm sorry. you paid for today and i just-"
you begin to say but he pressed his lips against yours. your eyes widened but you let him. he paid for this anyway and besides it wasn't bad because it was him. so you kissed him back, fingers looping behind his neck. it was hot and heavy, yet sweet, the way his tongue curled around yours. you whined softly against his kiss and lo and behold, something stiff pressed up against your stomach.
"let me treat you right, fix what they broke..."
he whispers, gently brushing your hair. and despite everything, his words made you pliant. he made you feel things like trust and care. things that you haven't felt in a long long time.
and that was how you ended up straddling him, tip of his leaky semi hard cock brushing your folds. he gently lowers you, hands rough and strong against the soft of your skin. your fingers curled in his shoulders and your legs shook. the soreness from before burned at your muscles but you took it like a champ. you always did. it *is* your profession.
he moaned at the feeling of your warmth all around the rubber on his cock, the way you slid it in so easy but held onto him so tight. he licked his fingers and began rubbing tight circles on your clit to make it easier for you. you gasped and gritted your teeth as you sunk lower.
"doing so good for me, doll. feels amazing."
he grunted out almost breathlessly, eyes half lidded. his semi hard cock began to stiffen inside you and the tip was just shy of brushing your probably bruised cervix. you winced a little and your eyes stung with tears. he kissed your tears away and began thrusting slowly and so gently. his eyes were fixed on every little shift from the crease of your brows to the corners of your lips.. the foreign feeling made your heart flutter. it all felt so intimate.
as he thrusted into your surprisingly sopping hole, he began to suck on your pert nipples, moaning as his face buried in your chest.you were sore but the way he was fucking into you so carefully felt so good. your eyes shut and your head leaned back as he thrusted and sucked at your chest.
"oh...oh god...Leon...shit i-"
you were so so close, the lewd squelches and pistoning motion lulling you closer and closer. then you felt him buck beneath you followed by the rubber swelling inside you snugly. he came already and he came. alot. must have been pent up the poor guy. so you did what you had practised perfectly and clenched around him, letting out a gasp like moan as you leaned into his neck. you panted and pulled away to look at him through half lidded eyes.
"that was-"
your words fell short when you saw his face. his skin was flushed and his eyes were half lidded like yours but the look he gave you was piercing.
"why are you lying to me, doll?"
your heart sunk to the lowest pits of your chest as you stared at him a little dumbfoundedly. he looked…hurt. shit. it was a blow to his ego, you were sure of it, he was gonna be mad-
“was it because it because i finished too fast?”
he asked softly, eyes fixed on yours. he sounded almost nervous. they were filled with a sincerity you had never encountered. such a pure and genuine expression which made your guilt worse.
“no, hon it wasn’t you. i promise. you did so good i was just…a little too sore.”
you answered him honestly. his face fell and he seemed even more worried now.
“why didn’t you tell me? we could have stopped or…or-”
he began going off, chiding you as worry began to take over. his blue gaze scanned over you for injuries, hands gently touching at your bare skin. you almost laughed at the way he was fawning over you. a hooker who was complaining about bad treatment. it was funny really. also not so unpleasant.
“i’m sorry i should have-”
he mutters, eyes beginning to water in worry at the thought of having made your pains worse. the look of guilt began to weave itself onto his handsome features. he looked like he had worn it often. your heart ached.
“no please, Leon it’s really nothing. it’s my job after all. you made it hurt less if anything.”
you tell him, running your thumbs over his prickly stubble gently before pressing a kiss to the mole on his cheek, barely concealed by stubble. you saw the worries melt away and his eyes softened so much that you almost glanced over your shoulder to make sure that it was directed at you and not like his long-lost love or something that randomly appeared behind you. a hallucination, maybe? but the kiss he pressed onto your lips jolted you out of your thoughts.
“let me eat you out, doll. it’ll be so good, i promise…let me make it up to you.”
he whispered against your lips, almost begging for a chance to right his wrongs. so you let him push you down and kiss down your stomach to the gap between your legs. his tongue licked a broad stripe up your cunt and his stubble prickled on the soft of your inner thighs. his lips latched onto your puffy clit and his tongue swirled over it expertly. you mewled softly hands gripping the sheets as he lapped and tongued at your slit. you were practically a leaking mess which he made sure to let you hear as he slurped loudly, eyes never leaving yours.
“ahnn Leon- you’re so good- too good i- uhn”
you were a blabbering mess, cunt practically moving itself against the lower half of his face.
“can’t help myself, doll. not when you’re this sweet and all f’me.”
from the way you were angled, you could see how his dick was beginning to tent as he rutted against the sheets.
“need it inside, hun, please…”
you moaned, eyes rolling back as his fingers curled deliciously against that sweet spot within you. he went still.
“but you’re hurting, doll. don’t wanna hurt you…”
he mumbles in between licks, the vibration of his words teetering you to the edge. you gave him a pleading look as your back began to arch. with the way his dick was beginning to chafe against the cheap bedsheets, who was he to deny you? especially when you look so sweet and pretty, squirming all for him.
“you’re sure, doll? you can take it?”
he asks, eyes searching yours. you nodded way too quick, desperate to feel something. anything in the twitching hole of your cunt. and then he was all over you, everywhere all at once. his lips on yours, his hands hot against every inch of skin he could get and his legs kneeled between yours as he pushes your legs back towards your chest. he ripped the top off of a new condom packet with his perfect teeth, wrapper glinting in the dim lighting. he rolled it onto his dick that was surprisingly hardening again.
"this time, i want you to cum, doll. don't lie to me again."
he chides, eyes filled with a seriousness you've never seen before. so you gulped softly with wide eyes and nodded. he spat onto his fingers, making a show as to how slimy his spit was before it dripped onto your sopping wet cunt. he began rubbing tight relentless circles as he thrusted into you at this new angle. the sensations combined with how he was almost pressed atop you made you see stars.
"L-leon i'm gonna-!"
you whined as he continued to thrust into you, hair clinging to his forehead and teeth gritted to withstand the growing pain in his back. he's not letting the miracle of getting hard twice go to waste. he was going to make you cum and he meant it. every word. and then his tip knocked against your cervix a little too hard which brought tears to your eyes. the man from before really did a number on you after all. your small yelp halted his movements immediately and his eyes widened.
"doll, you okay? shit i'm sorry i-"
you bit the bottom of your lips as the pain dulled. his cock was warm against your walls. you had not felt this type of pleasure in a long time. so you took a sharp inhale and looked at him through teary eyes.
"you did so well, hun just...not too deep, alright? think my cervix might be a little bruised or something."
he went a little pale at your words.
"we can stop seriously i-"
you pulled him by the back of his neck into a kiss.
"please, it feels good..."
you whispered earnestly, eyes watery and filled with a soft pleading when you met his pretty blue gaze. he mulled it over and nodded, thrusting into you as he rubbed your clit in tandem. your mewls grew louder and with an inaudible gasp, you buck against him as the coil in your lower belly snapped. at the feeling of you clenching around him, Leon let out a guttural groan as his sensitive (and probably chafed) dick twitched inside you, rubber swelling with his load. he slumped onto you, panting in your ear. his eyes were dazed and his heart raced. he groaned softly at the pain in his back and knees which made you laugh a little, coughing as your own aches returned.
"guess we're both a little beat up, huh?"
you remarked through laboured breaths. he smiles softly with that same tenderness from before and kissed your hairline.
"guess we are, doll."
as you laid in his arm and feel your eyes flitter shut, you could almost imagine that it was just the two of you basking in each other's peace and love. like he was yours to hold and you were his. kind of like...a couple. you had a small smile at the thought. if only you were deserving of that.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
he asks softly, eyes closed and nose pressed against the side of your face as his breathing slowed.
"about how all of this feels...almost intimate."
you admitted, leaving your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. you felt him stiffen in your embrace.
"what's stopping us, doll?"
he asks after a while in his roughened voice and you felt your heart clench. the question sounded so innocent and almost hopeful but you gently shook your head.
"oh please, Leon. we both know why. and besides, you'd be better off with a nice woman who can give you the picket fence life of dreams. a kid, or two."
you rattled off, trying to push away the dreaminess in your tone. you had to be realistic. you....you had to-
"why not you? you can give me that too."
he says, rough hands gently guiding you to face him. your eyes opened and you saw love. the type of love that was unlike anything that you have seen. it felt like a hug that pierced past your vessel to cup and hold at the shards of your fragmented soul. you felt your eyes water.
"Leon, please...don't give me hope. i have long buried it for a reason..."
you pleaded but he shook his head.
"you walk out with me tomorrow morning, free. you can continue your college major that you dropped out of ages ago, get a job you actually like, and...maybe...if you want to, and only, if you want to, we can...get dinner?'
you froze. he did…what? his words felt like static. you've known this man for barely a year! why was he being so nice to you? freedom, what did he mean by that? there's so much to unpack and why was he blushing when he asked if you wanted to get dinner? you needed to thank him, grovel at his feet, do something. anything at all. your head spun and he seemed to pick up on it. so he brushed your hair behind your ears and rubbed circles so softly onto the skin of your cheeks as your brain raced at a million miles per minute.
"i don't want you to feel indebted to uhm...have dinner with me...i just thought...that we could...ya know-"
he said awkwardly, that light pink still dusting his handsome features. it was incredulous, really. this man had just casually announced that he had settled your debt and was worried about a dinner? a dinner who in five other universes you would have jumped at yourself if he hadn’t asked? he wanted to have dinner with a mere little entertainment of the night like yourself?
so you did the first thing you could think of. you laughed. a real genuine laugh that you have not even heard from yourself in a long long time. you hugged him tighter as fat tears of every emotion rolled down your face. he laughed, a relieved sort of chuckle that vibrated in the cavity of his chest.
"so...?"
he asked, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. looking at you like a whole person. not a hooker, not shards of something, just you. so you smiled, and nodded. guess it did come true after all, that little dream of yours. as tears filled your eyes and hope began to pump your shrivelled heart back to life, you pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips and let out an exhale.
RIGHT?? need a sugar daddy so bad 🥲 (for entirely financial reasons and def not daddily issues.) TYSM FOR READING AND IM GLAD YOU LIKE IT 💓💓💓 i always giggle at your reblog comments istg 😭
Leon sat alone in the living room with his head leaned back against the back rest of the couch. the glass of whiskey had long been forgotten when he now had the bottle by the neck. he should be outside, celebrating. it was what he had been slaving his life away for after all. the eradication of bio terror. regulations had been set, talks about it are going about, black markets have been cleared, and it was going good. no more back to back missions.
he let out a weighted sigh, wishing and praying that on top of the miracle that was occurring, god would pay him cheese tax for having busted his ass for ages and allow him to get drunk again. he wanted to not think for a while. just wake up the next day with a banging headache threatening to split his skull and covered in hurl of almost entirely bile and that one protein bar Hunnigan made him eat before he went home. or rather the empty coldness of the apartment he happened to have a bed in. he took another swig, feeling it burn his gums as it sloshed past his teeth. he wondered if his health insurance would cover dentures as well. he can lump it on top of all the other aches he had. his back, knees, neck, and shoulders, you name it.
at the age of 47, he found himself wondering what could have been had he ran that day with Claire and Sherry. maybe they could have staked out in motels for a while, get new identities, be a family? September 30th 1998. will it ever be a day he can forget? and if he did miraculously manage to forget, will everything fix itself? filled in cracks and duct tape around holes where the shards were too powdered to fit. Claire. he missed her. not in a weird way. in a way that survivors with a trauma bond, a close friendship, and a sort of shared guardianship custody of a now fully grown girl who would forever be little in your eyes would. but there were just some things that you learn to let go. because if you keep holding on to the what ifs, it'll only hurt worse.
sure they did see each other at events, gatherings, all of those things. but he missed that feeling of relief and connection they shared as the three of them walked out of Raccoon City's carnage. the calmest time he had ever experienced. his eyes stung. did the dribbles of whiskey on his fingers get in? he wiped his eyes at his sleeve. he must be getting old. too old and too tired. a double whammy.
and so that was how he found himself at the doors of a neon lighted establishment. the type that mothers would take a longer detour to avoid explaining things to their kids. the kind where drunk losers (not so different from him), unfaithful husbands, and sketchy people hung around. the modern day brothel. he wondered how this place was still up and running. he rubbed the stiff in the back of his neck and stepped in.
the counter was a sleazy bald man with a gold tooth. Leon blinked blankly at the sight. did he step through a time portal? was this man a typical sleazebag incarnate who escaped from the television world? he took a deep breath which made his ribs hurt and gave the man a half smile.
"any preference for ya?"
his voice was nasally and his eyes were beady as they stared at Leon. Leon found himself shaking his head.
"no. i'll take whatever you have."
Leon says. that was practically his life motto wasn't it? the government throws shit in his face because it's whatever they have and he takes it. day after day. year after year. a quick cheap lay would make things better. it had to. sex was the only thing he hadn't had in a while. must be what was missing. men have needs. they don't need to go for therapy continuously because the first and only session they had ever attended did not help whatsoever. and besides, wasn't it called...a placebo? if he thinks sex will solve all his problems, it will.
and so he took the keycard from the counter's sweaty palms and began trudging down to room 17-C. the room where 'the sweetest lay you'll ever get' resided. he fiddled with the keycard as he waited for the rickety lift to bring him up. if he was lucky, the cords holding it together would snap at the level he was supposed to alight and send him plunging to his death. but if god couldn't even pay him a miniscule cheese tax of getting inebriated in an attempt to regain control over his life, why would he be granted such mercy?
before he knew it, he was at the door. he knocked on it and waited. it felt wrong to just use the keycard and barge in like the sleazebag counter implied. and he would also rather not accidentally stumble upon another client. the shame of being here was gnawing at his barely addled whiskey brain; seeing dick and balls would just remind him of the military, and he would rather not remember that at all.
"come in, sweetheart. use the keycard."
the voice was soft and sultry as it called out to him, muffled by the wood of the door. he did as he was told and entered the room. his eyes shifted to the floor awkwardly. he did not know where to look or where to stand or what to do entirely. he was out of his element which felt funny to even consider because he had been constantly put in situations throughout his life. there was a soft rustling sound and he finally looked up.
"is this your first time, handsome?"
you asked him, head tilted to the side curiously. you were positively the sweetest looking girl he had seen in a while. usually the ones he saw were either friends, mysterious hook ups, the president's daughter, or downright rotting and falling apart. his heart raced.
"yeah and uh...the name's Leon Kennedy. but a doll like you can call me, Leon."
he says, face stretching into a grin that looked more like a grimace. he watched your face wrinkle subconsciously as you tried to stifle either a giggle or blatant disgust. the curse of being trained for observance has graced him once more and he felt his face warm. he finally processed how awkward it all sounded and mentally groaned. was it too late for him to induce that lift accident himself?
"okay, Leon Kennedy, what did you have in mind today? to preface, anything is fine unless i use the safeword and we can begin whenever you're ready."
you tell him, leaning closer and putting on your client facing seductive smile. your hands trailed to his shoulder and took off his gunmetal blue leather jacket. he gulped softly and nodded.
"what's the safe word, doll?"
he asks, looking at you as you held onto his jacket with the tips of your fingers. your smile turned teasing and the rouge of your lips brushed against his ear as you spoke.
"why? you've got something really messed up in mind, huh?"
you asked him, tracing the prickle of his stubble gently. he couldn't help but notice how your whole persona was arousing but at the same time almost...haunting. he scanned the room, your fingers, and then your eyes. he froze. it was like staring down the crystalline amber at the bottom of his whiskey glass. your eyes were his.
his silence made your fingers still and you found yourself searching into his blue gaze. the type that looked as if they hold too much of the world and nothing at the same time. your brows furrow slightly and you felt your heart tighten just a little in your chest. so you did what you did best. you kissed him. the taste of lingered whiskey and the feel of plush lips against your own. his hands traveled to the back of your neck as he pulled you in closer.
he wasn't a bad snog. his tongue parted your lips and he further deepened it. not forcefully or disgustingly slobbery like most of the other men before. it felt just right. down to the way his scruff tickled the soft skin of your face. he tasted dizzyingly good too. this was going to be the easiest lay of your day. he was stunning, relatively gentle, and not a creep. it was a major win in your books considering you had to deal with a balding sixty year old who probably brushed his teeth with cigars and ass.
he was pressing you against the cheap motel bed which creaked beneath the weight. his calloused fingers fumbled with his belt and you snuck a glance by pulling away to pepper kisses down his throat and shoulder. there was no bulge. tough crowd? your hands began to palm at his boxers which made his teeth grit. he was breathing heavily but it only twitched.
"hun, hold up..."
you say as he kissed you almost feverishly. he pulled away with flushed lips and half lidded eyes, pupils blown. you bit the inside of your cheek. this was gonna be a hard talk.
"hun you're not...forgetting anything?"
you ask gently, holding his face in your hands. he was breathing a little heavier eyes–dazed. he shook his head.
"no."
he breathed out before leaning in to kiss you, hands roaming to hold you close. you pressed a hand to his lips.
"you...sure, hun? you're not..."
you trailed off looking him in the eyes and praying that he got the hint.
"not what, doll?"
he says, eyes still trained on your lips as he wet his a little with the tip of his tongue. when you don't respond, his eyes meet yours. there was a desperation in it. not the type of desperation when a man needed a good fuck. it was more a desperation for something else entirely. like he was reaching for something to hold on to. anything at all. your heart tightened again. it felt all too familiar. you took a deep breath.
"not...hard, hun."
you tell him, your voice shaking a little.
"it works just fine, doll. trust me."
he says. although it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself. that he was in need of a good fuck and nothing else. definitely nothing else that was more important to his wellbeing. he leaned in once more to kiss you and this time you let him. he began taking off his shirt and you did the same to your skimpy top, unclasping your bra. he looked at you and smiled softly.
"so pretty for me, doll. guess the counter was right, huh?"
he says. if it were anyone else you'd be grossed out but the way he said it made it seem like a genuine compliment. again, you read his eyes instead of his lips. you couldn't help the tenderness that began to rise from within the depthly caverns of your chest. a feeling you had long forgotten.
"hey...Leon? we can take it slow you know. you're my last customer anyway..."
you tell him and his smile faltered. you laid down beneath his hovering form and patted the empty space of the mattress next to you. he seemed to scan your face to figure out exactly what was happening but he didn't seem to get it. and yet, he still laid next to you anyways. both of you laid in your underwear, staring at the ceiling.
the mould spots, the dust, and the dirt that layered the ceiling and the lights were an all too familiar sight. you see it first thing in the morning, when a customer fucks you and you do the thing where you zone out and then pretend to cum when they do, before you sleep, and even now. in a way, it was a little memoir of your humble abode. the sound of him clearing his throat next to you made you turn to face him. his brown hair was splayed on the pillow case and he was studying the ceiling too.
"i'm sorry."
he says, his voice softer and deeper. you smiled. despite everything, his apology brought out a genuine smile from you.
"what for, hun? you didn't do anything wrong."
you say, eyes fixed on the rise and fall of his chest. his skin was littered in scars of every kind. you ran the pad if your index finger over each one, watching him shiver at your cold touch. almost as if he was holding himself from recoiling away.
"i can uh...eat you out. make up for it."
he suggests in a joking tone which trembled at the end of it. you exhaled softly. not an entirely bad offer but not right now. not when he's clearly going through it and is attempting to brush it all of with a cheap fuck.
"do you trust me, Leon?"
you asked him gently as you tucked away his hair. he pursed his lips and shut his eyes for a little before nodding. he found himself stunned at the fact that he was willing to trust this woman whom he had just met at most an hour ago. he couldn't even trust anymore, having been betrayed over and over again by strangers and acquaintances alike. so why...? what made this special? what made her special? his thoughts screeched to a standstill as she gently turned him and wrapped her arms around him snugly.
his breath hitched in his throat. he laid there awkwardly, unable to think. he felt his chest stricken and his breaths grew heavy.
"turn for me, sweetheart. let me hold you."
your voice filled his being with a sense of something he hadn't felt in a long time. he turned, his silver scars and chiselled back pressed against the soft of your bare chest. if this had been any other situation, his dick would have hardened, they would have had sex, and his problems would have been solved–who was he kidding? you heard him sniffle. once. twice. and then a choked sob. you held on tighter, pressing your face against the crook of his neck. you rubbed his sides soothingly. you teared up. it felt like you were being entrusted with something so raw and vulnerable. something that not many people would put in the hands of someone like you.
the both of you laid there in a gentle silence. it felt like a respite from the constant shit that life threw at you. he was now facing you, forehead pressed against yours, and eyes red from having cried so much. you held onto him, fingers tracing against each and every scar as if to memorise the missing shards of him, and put him back together. his own muscular arms had made it's home around your waist, pressing you so close to him. the bareness of your skin was bathed in silver moonlight and everything felt right. even if it was just for a moment.
even if at the end of the day you were two strangers, a broken man and a hooker, laying in the soiled sheets of a sleazy brothel.
and against the rules of your job, you let him sleep in your room. it felt nice to be held so intimately in somebody's arms without the need to provide sex for them. it almost made you believe that sex isn't all you were good for. that you deserved this borderline loving treatment and intimacy. if you closed your eyes and deluded yourself enough, maybe it'll come true.
☆ star's note: thank you to @ghostsghoul for beta and editing! hope it lives up to the celebratory post announcement and is okay for my first ever wlw smut piece 😖
those dark watchful eyes that lingered on you should have set every single red flag and alarm in your head off but you found yourself enticed. in the flashing purples and blues and greens, she stood out. her sleek black hair that fell slightly over her eyes and those slender fingers that tucked them behind her ears. with every graceful movement, your heart palpitated. she was bewitching in every sense of the word. she smirked.
"you know…standing there all night isn't gonna get you anywhere, beautiful."
her voice tunneled your every sense and the raucous crowds around you sounded so far away. it was only you and her in this space. the changing colours of the lights made her eyes glimmer hypnotically and the red of her lips glint. you felt your feet carrying yourself closer to her.
"i'm sorry you're just...you're just really hot."
your words felt feeble. childish even. if this was what you were gonna say to woo a woman of her standards, you would rather stay tongue-tied forever. she laughs softly, white teeth peeking from behind her perfect cherry lips. it was giddying and your face felt hot. you wondered if she would taste like cherries too.
"i suppose the feeling is mutual."
she says simply, reaching up towards your face and tracing it softly with her fingers. they were soft and unlaboured. her fingernails traced down to your throat, hovering over where you swallowed.
"might i interest you in a nightcap of sorts?"
she asked as if you had any say in the matter whatsoever. you were hers. a bunny snared and ready to be butchered, all at her very whim. so you nod like a puppet on strings when the puppeteer jerks the strings to their will. was this love?
"but i don't even know your name, Miss...?"
you say with almost desperation, much to her amusement.
"Wong. Miss Wong."
the way she says it made your skin feel hot. the thought of carnality as you whispered her stated title against the shell of her ear. you wanted her to ravage you and tear you apart. the look in her eyes seemed to stare right into your mind where all the sin resides. you gulped and nodded.
"Miss Wong. i would...love to."
you say, not caring that she never asked for yours. she stood up with grace and presser a chaste kiss to your cheek. one that branded you with the cherry red of her lips. you held your face in awe as you followed after her, practically gliding with stars in your eyes. your feelings and thoughts were running amok. you had never felt as seen or desired as you did today. you felt as if you’d finally be free of the confines of innocence that everybody wanted to avoid breaking so badly. nobody wants to do the dirty job of soiling the clean because people are attracted to flaws reflective of their own. you didn’t have that yet. until now.
her penthouse was huge and despite your immediate attraction and infatuation towards her, there was a negative aura so strong it made your stomach fold. you faltered at the door while she stepped in, heels tapping against the cold black tiles of her home. she never turned. not even once.
you knew that she knew you'd have followed her to the ends of the earth down to the very pits of hell. but why? why were you so willing to follow a stranger and ignore the flaring alarms of danger in your own body? one that you have known for way longer than you have known her.
and so you entered her home, feeling that sense of dread deepen with every step. it began to overwhelm you, beads of icy cold sweat pearling at your hairline. you staggered, clutching onto the arms of her couch for support. you could only hear the sound of your breathing and the tick of the clock hands in her home. you felt your chest tighten-
"are you alright, pet?"
her lustrous voice and her slender hand pressed onto the small of your hunched back broke you out of the nauseating haze. you gasped, taking in a mouthful of fresh air too much too quick.
"y-yes Miss Wong. i...i'm fine."
you said with effort. were her fingers always shockingly cold? she turned you towards her gaze meeting yours and seemingly depicting concern and worry for you. seemingly because all you felt was the void that seemed to want to tear you apart and dissolve you in its depths. your eyes strayed from her unnerving facade and in her shadow, you saw a glimpse of a dark shadowy figure. one more than what was supposed to be there but before you could question it, the tip of her fingernails pressed against the side of your cheek as she turned your focus back to her. its sharpness shy of a dagger.
before you could ask, her lips descended upon yours. it tasted like cherries. her tongue slipped between your lips, easily wrapping the muscle around your own. her hands were everywhere, cold trails down your spine, abdomen, and then the stiffened pearls of your tits which she pinched between her fingers as she kneaded with expertise.
your senses were ablaze. the cold of her and the heat of your own body was dizzying. before you knew it, she had you pressed down on her bed. her teeth nicked and bit at your skin making you whimper.
"such a beautiful pet..."
she cooed as she pulled away, revelling at the drool that dribbled down your lips and the cherry colour that had imprinted itself on your skin. she clasped your hand into a cold metal vice by her bedpost one after another. the cold was akin to her grip and sent shivers down your spine.
"M-miss Wong i don't think i'm-"
her fingers pressed against your lips and she gave you a coy and ambiguous smile. her fingers trailed down your throat and began to unbutton your white dress shirt leaving you in just your bra. the cold of her bedroom and the dread that tugged at the back of your mind made goosebumps rise on your exposed skin.
"this is your first time, isn't it pet?"
she asks, eyes boring into your soul. your breath hitched and you nodded. despite everything, you felt your face heat but you had no way of hiding away. she shifted and leaned over your exposed form, her clothed chest hovering over your face. your fingers curled against the restraints. you wanted to hold her in the inexperienced palms of your hands. feel her and the thump of her heart in a way that would convince you that this isn't a dream. but also in a way that would prove she was human. just like you.
when she returned to her spot between your thighs she peppered kisses down your neck and with a sudden snap, your bra tore down the middle leaving you with a small stinging feeling. she kissed lower, lips latching onto the small nick and lapping up your blood.
"sweet. just like you, pet."
her mere words made you heady. the smell of her room was of sage. sage, cherries, and smoke. it flooded your senses and so did her proximity. she sat up and took off her silken red dress and you watched it pool smoothly like the reflection of a river by her side. a river of rubied deaths. she was beautiful with her milky skin, sculpted body, and softness in all the right places. she tucked her hair behind her ears and descended upon your clothed cunt. you didn't even notice your skirt being removed. her knife slipped and cut your panties and she cupped your mound and licked her lips.
"all for me. all mine."
she whispers with a low husk before licking a broad stripe up your folds. you moaned, wrists tugging against the cuffs. her palms bent your legs towards your chest and she continued fucking her tongue into your cunt. her warm breath against it and the way she was slurping was so pornographic and sinful. she had one hand pressed down on your womb as she suckled onto your puffy clit. your body writhed and unadulterated moans slipped from between your lips. the haze of pleasure was making you teeter on the edge of release.
"Miss Wong, i'm gonna-"
and then there was pain. her teeth were clenched around your puffed clit. your broken moans turned into a yelp and then a scream.
"hurts! ngh-"
she smiled up at you, tugging your clit again before licking it better. with a few more licks to your sensitive clit, you came. you were panting, sweat beading across your brows. your clit throbbed as your legs shook. she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before licking it like a cat would a wound.
"you're the perfect pet."
she says in an almost drunken manner. her dark eyes were even darker, pupils blown to the edges of her iris. she leaned down and captured your lips in hers once more. a dizzying mix of you, cherries, and blood intermingling on your tongue. her fingers caressed your skin as it trailed down to your cunt where she lazily began fingering.
"so sensitive hmm? this messy untouched cunt all for me?"
she cooed against your ear, nipping at it. you hissed and whimpered softly as her fingers began to pick up it's pace.
"yes, Miss Wong mmf- all yours..."
the lewd wet squelch increased in volume and intensity. you were struggling against the restraints as she pumped and scissored your cunt without mercy. your back was arched painfully and your thighs clamped together.
"spread your legs, pet. you can take it, can't you?"
you were moaning so loudly, barely registering her words. you shook your head frantically.
"c-can't ngh- s'too- s'too much!"
you whined, body writhing harder than ever before as the feeling of a fourth climax approached consecutively. it almost hurts the way she was playing with your overly sensitive cunt. it was a mixture of numbness and flaring heat. tears rolled down your cheeks and you felt yourself hiccup.
"but you're mine. shouldn't i decide when you get to stop?"
she asked as her thrusts grew languid. you were a sobbing mess, too sensitive yet so so needy.
"please s'too much! please Miss Wong..."
you were babbling desperately, fingers and toes clenched.
"a little more, my sweet. you can take it."
she says. suddenly, you felt as if your legs were being held apart and her ministrations grew more overwhelming. you have lost count of how many times you've came, brain practically mush oozing out of your ears. your breathing was erratic. the hands that held you down filled you with dread. one of her hands was buried knuckle deep in your cunt while the other held that glinting knife right against your heart.
her soft coos turned into a dark whispering and your vision flashed with scenes and imagery of dark scary things. rot, blood, bones, and death. images of her covered in blood from head to toe, licking it off herself with a deadly smile. images of all the other girls like you that she had stolen from. stolen....? what did she steal? the sense of dread from before was clouding your mind as the incessant need to release coiled in your belly. you felt nauseous.
you gagged, eyes rolling back. there were so many shadows in her room. some with glowing red eyes and others with horns. your body felt cold and breathing was laborious. you flinched and turned your head towards her, too frantic and terrified to speak. pentagrams. they were in her eyes and etched into the skin of her thighs.
"you're mine, pet. my perfect little pet."
her voice was of multiple beings. you tugged hard at your restraints, adrenaline numbing any pain from the impact that had definitely shredded your skin. she loomed over you the shadowy figures huddled around her as her eyes seemed to glow burningly in the dark. you felt dirty and downright terrified.
"Miss Wong what are you-”
your voice gurgled to a stop as she sunk her knife down into your chest, a soft thud as it hit your breastbone. she dragged the blade downwards as you shrieked, eyes widened. it felt like nails on chalkboards within your skin. your chained hands clawed at her tears streaming down. the pain was too much. it was agony with every cough. every movement.
"i'm merely making you a part of me, pet. your blood inside me to bloom the beauty and age. you'd allow it won't you, sweetheart? you'd do anything to be with me forever?"
she asked, sinking the blade deeper and twisting it. your shrieks gurgled as blood flowed up your air ducts. you coughed agonisingly, vision blurring with tears and pain. she was covered in it. your blood. rubied slick dripping down her arms, covering her face and her chest. and she smiled. that same cherry smile that hooked you in the first place. your body began to feel numb and the pain slowly dissolved into a thick fog that was clouding your every nerve. as your last breath gurgled in the depths of your throat, you nodded and smiled. baring your blood-coated teeth to your owner.
you were hers now. forever.
she watched with glee as your eyes shut. she dipped her hands in your pooling blood and traced hasty figures onto your dissected skin. she traced it over your lips and gave you a final post-mortem kiss to seal it. now your youth was hers. just as she had planned. her body swarmed with the dark aura of the shadows around her and for a moment, her eyes glowed. she let out a soft moan as her body filled with euphoria. she shuddered as the feeling consumed her, panting and clutching onto your dead vessel. vessel because now your blood and soul were hers. you never needed that vessel anyway. she felt your essence sit snugly in the crevice of her heart, pumping new life into her otherwise aged bones and tissues perfectly. as if you were destined to this fate.
☆ star's note: major credits and thanks to @ghostsghoul who inspired this, edited, and beta read everything! ++ i hope it is everything yall have been anticipating since the fic was announced! love yall mwacks 🥰❤️❤️
one more hour. that was the only obstacle between you and the glowing green exit sign three cubicles over. your ass was hurting from how long it's been practically glued to the chair. you had even skipped your lunch break to finish the stupid last-minute assignment your team leader had dumped onto your overflowing plate of tasks.
daydreams of stepping out into the streets and finally returning to your house after a long day of gruelling office work filled your head. you could practically feel your soft couch under your back, taste the good food you were gonna eat when you reached home, and the selection of flicks you were going to have to choose from mundanely-
"hey, don't forget we're having team dinner and drinks at the new place downtown! stoked to have all of us gather again for a catch-up!"
your team leader's hand felt like the rough ridges of shackles weighing you down and dragging you further away from heaven (your home) down the jagged and fiery path straight into the depths of hell (dinner with your workplace) with its many demonic occupants (your colleagues and bosses). you plastered a smile onto your face like the perfect little employee that you were and gave an immensely enthused nod.
"yup. how could i forget?"
you say through a tight teethy grimace that everybody had accepted as your actual smile. as your team leader retreated back to her cubicle, the distance between you and that glowing green salvation of the exit sign grew further and further. you sighed heavily and began to type at your screen again.
when it was time to leave, your feet trudged numbly within the throng of your other colleagues. almost everybody looked just as miserable if not more miserable than you did, minus the bosses who were chatting everyone's ears off with talks about how company bonding was important, how it was nice to see everyone in such 'high spirits', and how we would absolutely love the place that we were headed towards for dinner.
when you arrived there, your jaw fell to the floor. pretty much identical to those cartoon scenes where the characters would have the most exaggerated shocked expressions being illustrated. what stood before you was none other than the latest establishment of Hooter's brother company. Tooters.
why Tooters? you don't know. maybe it's because men like to 'toot' their own 'longhorns' or something. but seriously. a company dinner at this place is basically an HR disaster waiting to happen.
you always knew your company was one of those quirkier ones who present themselves as a flat structured place despite the clear hierarchies and numbers and clear intent on exploiting their workers as slaves of capitalism. but you didn't know it was going to be this bad.
a tall server with curly hair, the prettiest eyes you have ever seen (which you were definitely focusing on despite how his tits were practically bursting from his cropped uniform), and a handsome smile came out to serve your group. your eyes met his and he flashed you a wink as he ushered everyone in. your ears felt hot as you returned his wink with a single polite nod before jogging to join the rest at the assigned seating area.
you sat next to your cubicle mate, chatting idly about everything and nothing at all. the hyped energy from your bosses was beginning to drain you. you had drinks, appetisers, and then their main speciality. the Tooters bowl. it looked like a regular seasoned rice bowl but god was it amazing. it was the perfect blend of spice, sweet, salty, tangy, and everything. the vegetables were crunchy and fresh and the meat was perfect. there was no way this bowl was being served at an expected 3-star diner chain that relies on the phrase 'sex sells' in its entirety.
everything else was a blur. all you could think about were the amazing flavours bursting in your mouth. you barely even drank, relishing in the taste. when you were done, your colleagues were practically hammered, chatter increasing in volume as everybody began going off on drunken tangents. and that's when your eyes met his.
a sturdy-built man whose cropped Tooters uniform looked painted on stood on the opposite end. he had a buzz cut and lines in the corners of his eyes. his huge arms were crossed over his chest as he stared at your table. at you. your heart raced. this man, just like the other server, was so handsome. if this was what too much testosterone did, you're not complaining. your eyes trailed down his perfect abs to his happy trail that disappeared beneath his tooters shorts which did not hide his huge package at all.
catching yourself, your eyes snapped back to meet his gaze. he had a small knowing smirk tugging on his lips. you felt your whole body warm from the tips of your ears down to your sore feet in your office pumps. you looked down into your empty bowl, carding your fingers through your hair lightly to soothe your nerves.
what hit the nail in the coffin was the fact that when it was finally time to leave, the server that cleared the plates on your table literally stole your breath. his hands brushed yours as you passed him your bowl out of instinctive helpfulness. he flicked his blonde hair out of his face with a light shake of his face and he winked at you.
"thanks, doll."
he says with ease, and a lazy smile tugging at his pretty lips. you wanted to trace it with your fingers. you blinked quickly and nodded, watching him let out a soft laugh as he walked away. he was buff in a leaner way. the kind that made him Eros where the previous two servers were Hercules and Ares respectively.
you cleared your throat and buried your face in your hands. was this place heaven? seriously? good food, hot men in skimpy tops, and cushioned seats that did not smell like marinated sweaty ass? you were on cloud 9 when you practically floated home that day. went out like a light too after such a long and eventful night.
in the coming weeks, your feet kept bringing you back to Tooters. their food was insanely good and after your gruelling office hours, it was the perfect boost. their food provided you with a balance to your mental health. food this good should be illegal. they had the shiniest wings with the most flavourful sauces, meals that tasted almost homecooked, and the servers were super nice to you once you got past the whole...uniform situation.
"sweetheart! i missed you!"
a familiar booming voice called out. you let out a laugh when you turn to see Carlos walking towards your table. he had the same grin on his face, his pretty eyes twinkling.
"sure, Carlos."
you rolled your eyes.
"no, 'i missed you too'?"
he teased, clicking his pen and readying his ordering notepad.
"hmm maybe if you made my wings extra fresh?"
you quipped back, ignoring how warm your face felt which made him let out a hearty laugh.
"sweetheart, that's a toughie. and you know i make dreams come true."
you shrugged nonchalantly.
"guess i don't miss you too."
you shrugged jokingly. he sighed in mock defeat.
"fine sweetheart. for you, i'll see what i can do."
he says before walking away. you physically tore your eyes away from the swell of his ass. as you waited for your meal, you realised that there weren't a lot of people during lunch hour. guess most of their patronage came at night when the drinks would start pouring out. you weren't a drinker at all. you began scrolling your phone when a few small taps against the wood of your table.
"hi, doll. did you order the Tooters bowl with a side of wings and...let me guess...an iced tea?"
a smooth huskier voice asked. you put down your phone and met his icy blue eyes.
"wrong. i ordered a soda this time."
he flashed you that model-like million-dollar smile.
"you don't even like soda, doll."
he says, quirking one of his brows at you.
"i know. i'm trying it out since you suggested one the other time."
your response made the blonde's smile grow.
"ah, you know how to win a man's heart, doll."
his comment made you blush. despite his usual amount of flirtatiousness, you couldn't help but feel your face warm.
"how much did you get tipped for that?"
you ask jokingly, face scrunched at him. he chuckles and shakes his head.
"how much are you tipping me? you're the only i've ever said this to you know."
he teased, smiling at you. you rolled your eyes despite your increasingly warm face. however, the banter didn't last long as he was soon called away to serve another table. so you continued scrolling on your phone, willing your heart to stop racing so much. why did all their server hires have to look like they freshly stepped out of those hunky male magazines? you felt like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time sometimes.
and then you smelled it. the waft of warm tastiness floating from the bowl of food. you felt your mouth water. you looked up and it was none other than Chris, the manager of the servers, coming up to you with your order.
"here you go, miss. Carlos says to tell you that the wings are made extra fresh. just as you requested."
despite the depth of his voice, Chris spoke it with a gentleness that made your chest flutter. you offered him a smile and thanked him to which he nodded. you would never get used to this hulking giant of a man whose voice, looks, smile, and overall energy would make you physically melt. he's so handsome and stoic in the manliest of ways.
"miss, are you feeling okay? you look flushed."
his voice asked and you felt your face redden further.
"y-yeah i am haha...don't worry about it."
you say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. he smiles at you, dark deep-set eyes filling with a look that made your knees all shaky.
"i see...okay then i'll be going now. call me if you need anything, okay?"
you nodded and he began walking away, leaving you fumbling with the pounding in your chest. 3 of the hottest waiters in Tooters practically knew you enough to hang around your table and joke around with you. wow. you must've been coming here too often, huh? you sighed and began digging into your meal, relishing in the bursts of flavour. the wings were extra crispy and succulent maybe you should have lunch somewhere else tomorrow, you thought quietly. you sipped on your soda and your face lightened up. you've never liked soda but this one? you can get behind. as always, Leon was spot-on with his suggestions. could you really eat lunch at another place when this is literal perfection?
so as the months passed, you became sort of friends with the three servers who strangely seemed to take your order and everything whenever you came for lunch. there were plenty of other servers but maybe it was just sheer coincidence. not that you minded. you even got close enough for them to sit with you on the diner's emptier days, exchanging small talk and whatnot. that was how you were currently in the situation of being convinced to participate in the Tooters' Regular Roulette.
"what even is that?"
you asked them, brows slightly furrowed as you munched on the chips on your plate. Carlos leaned back in the seat and stretched lazily.
"it's a little thing where regulars who participate get randomly selected for a special surprise, sweetheart."
he says. his long muscular arm was stretched over your shoulders comfortably, fingers ghosting where your sleeves ended and your skin began. usually, this is when the manager would be called but you felt comfortable with Carlos.
"hmmm, what's the surprise?"
you ask him which makes him almost snort.
"if i told you then it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it, sweetheart?"
you groaned which made him grin wider.
"then why would you even tell me about this?"
you whined jokingly. the seat on the other side of you dipped.
"is he bothering you, doll?"
you could practically hear the smile in his tone as he spoke.
"he actually is, Leon. tell Chris for me would you?"
you said which made Carlos frown a little in mock offense. you also missed the way the curly-haired man exchanged glances with the blonde while you were in the middle.
"ooh you know i would, doll but he's right you know."
you sigh.
"seriously, Leon? you too? what's with this surprise event for regulars anyway?"
before Leon could respond, a shadow loomed over your seated figure.
"i'm sure you'd enjoy it, miss. i planned it to celebrate our very kind regulars such as yourself after all."
the rumble in his voice reverberated throughout your body, sending tingles down your spine as your body warmed.
"you're too kind, Chris but i'm one of many regulars here! surely if i gave it a miss, it wouldn't make much of a dent in the plans?"
you tried to reason. you never really liked gatherings or events of any sort but the way they exchanged glances made you feel a little nervous. it seemed to tell you that you had no way out of this.
"but you're our favourite regular. it wouldn't be the same without you, doll."
Leon said, fingers warm against the side of your face as he tucked your loose hair behind your ears in an entirely Leon fashion.
"yeah, sweetheart, and i already miss you on regular days."
Carlos said, leaning closer. his soft deep voice gusted over your ears. your heart was racing impossibly fast, at how close they all were. thankfully, you were saved by the sound of loud glass shattering. everyone's heads whipped around towards it. turns out someone had dropped their drink glass as they were eating. you sighed in relief as they began to get up to help.
"think about it okay, sweetheart?"
Carlos says before he left. not without a smooth wink thrown your way. you finally managed to heave out a sigh of relief. you felt almost lightheaded with the way your blood pressure dramatically decreased. these men were out for blood. your blood. it was definitely an ego boost to have three of the hottest men in Tooters to butter you up the way they did but 'they're just doing their jobs', you told yourself as you shovelled the rest of your lunch into your mouth.
a week later and you went to Tooters for their Regular Roulette event. you were wearing your best non-office outfit that you had managed to scavenge from your closet. you didn't go out often after work so you had no reason to overspend on clothes. you had a plain knitted sweater that hung on you perfectly along with a skirt and some cute shoes you had been waiting to wear since you first got them. when you first arrived, you realised that this was only the second time you'd been to Tooters at night. it felt strange considering how you usually went there during lunch hours.
as soon as you arrived at the door, Leon was the one assigning tables. he smiled when he saw you, eyes trailing down your figure not so subtly.
"and here i was thinking that you actually meant that whole thing about not coming to events, doll."
he says in his standard drawl, a smirk tugging on his pretty lips. you rolled your eyes, lips curving as you stifled a giggle.
"Leon i will literally make a U-turn home if you don't assign me a table."
he snorts at that.
"alright alright, no need to kick up a fuss, doll. i reserved your favourite table for you. you know, just in case you showed."
he says with a teasing lilt to his tone, gesturing towards the table near the corner where the AC was at the perfect temperature and the seats were absolutely pristine. it was your favourite seat for a reason after all. you thanked him and began walking towards it. his blue eyes were practically trained on the way your ass swayed as you walked. he let out a sigh and cleared his throat before tugging on his signature flirtatious smile to tend to the oncoming patrons.
as soon as you sat, Carlos was at your table in a second, not to your surprise.
"glad you made it, sweetheart."
you smiled at him and continued ordering a per usual. everything felt relatively normal aside from how your three favourite servers seemed to be staring at you for longer than usual. their eyes seemed to study you almost hungrily as they trailed down your skirt to your legs. you folded your legs across one another and shifted awkwardly. you must have made the right decision with this outfit.
and then finally as you nursed your glass of iced tea, Chris's voice cut through the crowded diner. it was time for Regular Roulette. they had all of the regular's names placed in a box and a wheel next to said box where there were prizes listed. your eyes scanned the panels on the wheel and saw the standard vouchers, promotion codes, blank slates, and a panel with 'T👀ter's Regular's Special'. that slate was way smaller than the rest which probably meant that it was harder to get and entailed a higher level prize. what are the chances of winning that anyway? it was so slim compared to the huge empty slates and the rest.
so you watched Chris spin the wheel, over and over. each time, a regular would win a voucher, a promotion code, or even nothing at all. at this point, you were getting a bit bored. Leon nudged Carlos upon seeing you pick at your nails quietly, iced tea long gone. Carlos's eyes widened and he went up to Chris who was in the middle of announcing a prize. you watched as Chris gave a firm nod. he reached his hand into the box and lo and behold it was your name.
their whole exchange had piqued your interest and now it was your turn to win your prize. so you sat forward in your seat, eyes trained on the way his muscles flexed as he spun the wheel with the lightest of touches.
"and for the little miss sitting over there, you have won the 'T👀ter's Regular's Special'!"
Chris announced. you felt so awkward and embarrassed when all the other regulars turned to face you. there were light claps and cheers. there were also some envious eyes from some women and men as Leon took your hand.
"miss, please follow our server into the back for your prize. thank you."
you heard Chris say as Leon whisked you towards the back. curiousity and anticipation gnawed at you but before you could turn to ask him any questions, he led you to a door labelled break room. he opened the door to reveal a jaw-dropping redecorated break room. there was a literal huge soft-looking couch and it smelled so clean. there were even snacks on the side. fully stocked. your jaw dropped. what the actual fu-
"so we redecorated it a little for the prize, doll. what do you think?"
he asks. it was only then that you realised your hand was still in his. he seemed to notice your lingering gaze but made no effort to let go. instead, he led you to the plush couch and set you down.
"your break room is amazing. my office only has like some plastic chairs, lame coffee, and-"
you trailed off as you realised how close he was. his eyes were glued to your lips.
"can i?"
he asks, tearing his eyes away from your pretty lips to meet your gaze. his hand cradled your cheek and his thumb swiped over your plush bottom lip. you blinked furiously, face feeling hot. he was getting even closer and your mind was racing. you let out a stuttered approval which was apparently the only thing he needed before he pressed his lips onto yours. you kissed him back, heart pounding out of your chest.
“looks like Kennedy’s got a head start with our special regular of the day, huh?”
Carlos’s voice caused you to jump back from the kiss. you saw how swollen and pretty Leon’s lips were as he looked at you through a half-lidded blue gaze. his beauty never failed to make your breath hitch. and then you looked at Carlos whose dark eyes seemed even darker as he looked at you.
“where’s my kiss, sweetheart? surely, you meant to share?”
he teased leaning in closer, his warm and rough palms cupped your face and he kissed you deeply, tongue swiping across your bottom lip as he deepened it. you felt Leon’s hands caress your waist from behind, lips peppering kisses to your neck. you moaned against Carlos’s expert kiss. you felt Leon’s hands trailing up your sides, fingers brushing against the side of your chest.
“tap your hand on my thigh if this is okay, doll.”
he whispers against the shell of your ear. his stubble prickled against the smooth expanse of your skin making you gasp against Carlos’ relentless kiss. you tapped your hand on Leon’s firm bare and muscular thigh. he smirked against your neck and his hands snuck beneath your knitted top. you felt him undo your bra hooks and he lifted your top, letting the cold of the room hit your bare chest.
Carlos’s kiss paused and he pulled away.
“shit…sweetheart. you’ve got the prettiest tits i’ve ever seen and trust me, i’ve been shown a lot.”
he says, hands reaching to flick at your cold hardened nipples as Leon continues to knead your flesh. you moaned softly, head tilted back and leaning against Leon as Carlos kneeled and took a nipple into his mouth. the feeling of the warm wetness on your nipple made you sigh, hands reaching out to tug into his mop of curls. the room began to feel warmer as your tits were continuously suckled, flicked, and kneaded by the two men. and then through your haze of contentment, you saw the door to the break room open. you froze, eyes widening. Chris stood there, arms folded across his chest.
“you couldn’t have waited for me to finish up the roulette?”
he asked in his deep authoritative voice. he sounded almost annoyed but the way his eyes darkened and zoned into your writhing form was enough to show his true feelings. he wanted you. badly.
and that was how you ended up in Chris’ lap, lips locked onto his as his tongue swirled around yours and slipped down your throat. his one free hand lifted one of your legs up, socked foot dangling similarly to the other leg that Carlos was holding up as he sucked and bit at your chest, marking you up. Leon was kneeling in between your spread legs, nose bumping against your clit bump through your panties. his tongue traced the outline of your soaked pussy. his eyes were fixed on yours as he licked you over and over. you mewled softly against Chris’ lips and your hands felt aimless. Leon grabbed your hand and placed it on his hair before he slipped aside your panties and began licking you bare.
your fingers tightened on his hair as he continued to lick and finger you, his other hand pressed against your womb. his tongue licked broad stripes down to your puckered ass. you squealed, jerking back away from his mouth. or at least attempting to but he held you in place.
“let me prep you well, doll. you’re gonna need it.”
he says, voice reverberating against your pussy which made your grip on his hair tighten as you let out a muffled gasp against Chris’ kiss. he continued to tongue and finger you open. the feeling of his fingers thrusting into your pussy and ass at the same time was overwhelming. and the fact that your whole body felt stimulated was not helping at all. your breathing began to grow quicker and your chest heaved.
“mmf- m'gonna-”
you whined and he pulled away for a moment, a strand of slick stretching with him.
“cum for me, doll. let me taste you.”
he says with his blown pupils gazing at you. he dove back in and you came. hard. your finger clenched and tugged at his roots while the other hand was held in Chris’ huge ones. your body jerked as he continued licking you and sucking your clit through your orgasm, seemingly uncaring of the sensitivity that struck you in jolts as your legs twitched.
and then, they began to strip and your eyes widened at the variety of cocks laid out for you.
“like what you’re seeing, miss? we see the way you eye us whenever we serve you”
Chris teased, hand wrapped around his huge cock as he pumped it a few times. your mouth watered.
“since Leon’s already tongued you so well, are you ready for your real prize, sweetheart?”
Carlos asked, grinning wolfishly with his blown pupils almost glinting. you could only nod, head turned to literal mush at the prospect of taking all the three men at once. the positioned you in such a way where Chris was laid down with you straddling him on all fours, Leon’s tip was pressed against your ass, and Carlos was sitting heavy on your tongue.
“you’re so cute, miss, can i put it in?”
Chris grunted with effort as he rubbed his huge tip over your folds, slit catching at your clit. you moaned against Carlos’s dick which made him groan softly. as soon as you gave him the greenlight, Chris began to slip in. inch by inch you feel yourself getting stretched impossibly bigger. you whimpered and your nails pressed into his pecs, littering the light patch of hair with mini red crescents.
“s’too big. m’gonna split.”
you huffed, tears burning in the corner of your eyes and your words muffled by Carlos’ length continuously pistoning into your mouth. Chris’s hands were almost bruising as he held onto your waist and sunk you down onto his fat cock. he began thrusting up into your deepest parts, dick spearing and scratching your gummy walls at a dizzying pace. you were babbling incoherently when something cool and slimy dripped onto your puckered asshole.
Leon’s fingers curled up into it, increasing in numbers as he scissored you open. his other hand was rubbing figure eights onto your puffy clit as Chris pounded into you and Carlos into your throat. and then he prodded his tip into the hole.
“you can take it right, doll? for me?”
he asks so sweetly which you nod at blankly, drool dripping down your chin. he slowly thrust into your tight asshole and you felt a fullness that made you feel like you were on the brink of either tearing into a clean half or falling down a pit of orgasm then you can never resurface from. your sounds grew louder as they thrust in unison, feeling their dicks rub each other through the thin wall separating your two holes. the textures made them more vocal as well, grunting and groaning.
you could feel your brain melting out of your ears and your senses going blank. you were pretty sure they had shifted you around effortlessly, holes taking a different dick each time. you felt the familiar coil tighten and release over and over, brain-melting even more each time. you even came so hard that you squirted onto Carlos’s abdomen, legs twitching and body trembling from the orgasm.
and then finally you were kneeled on the floor in a way that felt like you were starring in a literal porno as the main girl. your top was thrown off to the side, your skirt was coated in cum and so were your thighs, stomach, and the corners of your mouth.
Chris’s dick was pumping down your throat as your hands jerked off Leon and Carlos. the room was filled with soft hisses and moans before they came one after the other, showering your face and body with globs of their cum. Chris came down your throat with a loud groan, his thick fingers curling in your hair deliciously as you swallowed around him audibly.
he pulled out of your throat and slapped your cum coated cheeks lightly, making you giggle deliriously as you nuzzled their dicks. you were panting and coughing a little. your legs were numb and everything was aching in the best way possible. Chris whipped out a polaroid camera that had been sitting at the side table.
“miss, on the count of three, say cheese for us alright? 1…2…3…”
the flash blinded you as you grinned. he took out the picture and shook it. as you watched it, your eyelids began to droop and you blanked out.
when you woke up, you were dressed in a comfortable hoodie and sweats that smelled of one of their colognes. your body and throat and head hurt. you tried to move but something heavy was matching onto you. you tried to turn but there was another heavy wall on your other side as well. you blinked groggily and let your eyes adapt.
“morning miss, i hope you rested well and enjoyed your prize. your clothes are at the dry cleaners’, special wash for your knitted top so it doesn’t shrink.”
Chris’s voice said. you craned your neck to see him smiling by the doorway, no longer dressed in his uniform.
“thanks, Chris.”
you said hoarsely. you felt Leon’s hair tickle the shell of your ear as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
“don’t go yet, doll. you’re so comfy…”
he says in a groggy voice that would get anybody’s panties in a twist (if they hadn’t been fucked to an inch of their sanity the night before). Carlos pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, stubble tickling your skin.
“he’s right, sweetheart. stay for a bit.”
Carlos’s voice rumbled throughout your body. Chris nodded and set down a cup of hot tea for your throat on the side table. your heart warmed at their gesture. it made you wonder, was this the regular’s special or were you just a special regular? hell if you knew. but all you wanted right now was to drink some hot tea and be cuddled by the beefy men around you.
tw: smut, nsfw, depictions of torture, guilt, misogyny, oral sex (m receiving), angst, mdni, reader is 18+
play again: <the knight's confession> 00:00/45:00
minors DO NOT interact. read at your own risk. ageless blogs will be blocked.
☆ starlet's note: can be separated from part 1
++ special thanks to @bonnibuckets for editing and @puppyina for beta reading!! incredible authors who's works you should definitely check out because they're all amazing 😁😁😁💓💓💓
the sun, your smile, and lillies. lilies everywhere. petals laced the grass like snowy bits as they sat. they were your favourite. you like the way they smell and how pretty they were. he agreed. white lilies were made the kingdom's iconic flower for a reason. but nothing could rival you.
all Carlos could focus on was the way you were laughing. how sweet it rang in his ears, how deeply it nestled into the dips and crevices of his heart. he was grinning, proud of the little joke that he had made to make you laugh.
"my love, you jest. there is no way, Matron Dellevere, that stoic and unfeeling woman, blushes around my father."
he shrugs and leaned back, hands pressed on the grass as he turned to face you.
"you think i'd lie to you, princess?"
he asks, biting his inner cheek as he felt the laugh bubble up his chest once more.
"after this piece of information? yes, my love. you are a liar."
you tell him, eyes shining with amusement. he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense and scoffed.
"you'd let Matron Dellevere ruin what we have, princess?"
he asked, leaning in closer. his tone was teasing and his eyes were fixated on your lips. how soft they looked. how kissable. you were lost in his gaze, heart aflutter. it will not be the first kiss you both shared and yet, it still sent tingles down to the tips of your richly adorned toes. it was as if he hadn't bedded you with unparalleled passion and vigour the night before. and the nights before that one. not that you'd ever want to compare it with anyone else. you had practically offered your heart to him in a bejewelled box of gold and uncut gems, topped with a satin bow. except at that time, he was completely unaware of it.
you leaned closer, your noses brushing-
splash
the cold dousing yanked him out of the muddy haze he was in. lilies replaced by filthy cobbled stone walls, your laugh with the creak of rusted chains, and your soft loving gaze with what could only be described as pure unadulterated hatefulness. it sliced through his muddled perception and grounded him back in reality. and then he felt it again. the pain and throbbing. it was everywhere.
"glad to have you back, Captain Oliveira. it's unlike you to be distracted."
the way he spoke was cold and unfeeling. so unlike his gentle daughter and all her love for the world and the people around her. for him. Carlos swallowed the pool of copper in his mouth and weakly raised his head to face the king's gaze. it was all the fight he had left.
"ah there you are. the revered youngest captain of the knights. you have fight in your eyes. just like your father ehen he was alive and serving me."
the king noted, observing him like a human would with an experimental ant they were seconds away from scuffing with the tip of their shoes.
"so tell me, why the decision to betray my trust with the one asset that i graciously assigned you to guard with your life?"
the king spat, jaw clenched. Carlos was quiet. he deserved this. what was he thinking? a battered and broken mutt like him had no right to even look your way. he had forgotten his place. in his daze, a sharp pain on his wounded chest made him yell. the end of the king's cane was twisting into his flesh.
"answer me, young captain."
the king said darkly, abhorrent gaze fixed on him. Carlos was panting and his body was taut as he stiffened against the rusted chains that held his wrist on either ends of the wall. his body swayed weakly.
"i love her, your majesty."
he croaked, pathetically. the king scoffed and twisted his cane deeper into his wounds. blood dripped down his battered body as he yelled his throat raw.
"love?"
the king scoffed in his face. he pulled his cane away and swatted it across Carlos's body in a fit of uncontainable rage. over and over. he only stopped when he had to regain his breath, beads of sweat rolling down his flushed face as he panted heavily. he threw the cane against the cobbled stone wall, the clatter echoing throughout the emptiness.
"you ruined my asset. turned the princess of the land into nothing but damaged goods. who will wed a common whore who had been bedded by the likes of you?!"
he spat in Carlos's face, thick fingers gripping his jaw tightly. despite all his limbs flaring in agony, the king's words made him angry. how could a father speak of his only daughter in such a vile way? as the pain shot through his being, his heart beats with your name. nothing mattered when it came to you and so despite everything, he protested.
"don't speak of her like that."
his weak voice muffled by the tight hold the king had on his jaw. the king forcefully released his jaw. Carlos spat a glob of red onto the floor.
"you insolent mongrel! live out the rest of your days in dishonour and isolation."
the king growled pointedly before storming out. Carlos made eye contact with Sir Mullins, his old friend. the older knight looked at him with a blank face. but his crow lines held sympathy at his old captain's pain. he shook his head softly before shutting the metal gate of the prison with a loud creak and clang. Carlos was alone again. his body throbbed and he shivered in the cold. this was it. he was going to die the way a lowly mutt like him should have. covered in the blood he was raised in, alone and forgotten. it's what i deserve, he thought as his consciousness began to sink into a quicksand of black.
“Carlos! my love, i’m so sorry…”
the muffled voice sounded so familiar. the gentleness in which her tone enveloped his name. and then there was warmth.
when he finally came to, he felt sluggish. so many questions muffled in the confines of his own head. he blinks dazedly, vision blurry.
“about time, cap’n.”
captain? nobody calls him captain anymore. he had lost the title along with his family’s honour after what he did. nobody except-
“don’t tell me ya don’t remember me?”
“Mullins…? what’s…going on?”
his voice was deep and croaky from disuse. the agony had been subdued into mild aches and throbs all over his body. he squints and tried to clear his vision. there were two Mullins. and then there was one.
“the king battered you up quite good, captain.”
Carlos had expected that so his reaction was mild. but what shocked him was the fact that he was still alive and breathing. his brows furrowed as his head raced.
“so how-”
“her royal highness went to talk to him. all we can do now is hope for the best.”
his blood ran cold. what if that crazy bastard hurt you? no sane father talks about their only daughter the way that vile man did. he tried to get up, to go find you but Mullins pushed him back onto the bed.
“sorry cap’n. ya need to rest. it’s the missus’ orders.”
he said firmly, eyes fixed in a way that spoke for him without words, there was no room for negotiation on the matter.
meanwhile, you were standing before a tyrannical presence whose voice had lived in the recesses of your mind ever since you learned to speak. he taunted you, influenced your decisions, and dictated your life. not unlike the physical manifestation that stood before you. but the resentment that you held for him had blossomed into pure hate upon seeing how battered your beloved was because of him. you wanted to yell and hit but you were standing before his seated figure, head hung low as if you were the guilty one.
he had always hated your mere existence. you were never enough in his eyes and no matter what you do, you will never be. because he wanted a son but your mother died in vain, in his words, for giving birth to you. you couldn’t even continue the legacy of his kingdom’s name because you’d be taking the name of whoever married you. hence, you were a mere asset for him to expand the kingdom.
“you surprised me. i had such low expectations of you and yet you still couldn’t meet it.”
his voice was cold with no emotion except an air of arrogance and clear rage at your ‘disobedience’ towards him.
“i apologise father. i am here to…”
you made the mistake of looking into his eyes, words of negotiation dying on your tongue. his eyes had a way of belittling people. his pathetic daughter was no exception.
“you dare to attempt negotiating with me after what you have done?”
your knees buckled and you kneeled before him.
“father, i have never ever asked anything of you. and i know that as the daughter you had chosen to keep out of pity, i should be eternally grateful.”
you spoke shakily, feeling your eyes burn with tears. your chest filled with shame, anger, and an inconsolable sadness. you were not doing this for yourself. you were doing it for Carlos. so that he would have at least a little bit of a fighting chance to live unscathed. that was the only wish you had. nothing else. your life and soul could be pawned to the devil himself in exchange for a single diamond for all you cared.
“please. let him live unharmed. i will do whatever it is that you so wish for the rest of my life.”
his gaze was piercing as he glared at you from his seat. your heartbeat reverberated within the corset of your dress. his gaze was fixed on something. and then you saw it. streaks of red swatched across the frills and satins of your dress. Carlos’s blood. your heart began to sink as you realised. father despised messy girls.
Carlos was tossing and turning. his bandaged torso made breathing a little harder and sleeping difficult. but those were small distractors. he couldn’t sleep because he was worried sick about you. he sat up, body covered in thin sheen of sweat. Mullins was long gone, probably back to the castle for his duties. Carlos sighed softly. he disliked being alone, having grown used too your voice or the soft lilts of your breath in the crook of his neck. he needed some fresh air.
he began to carefully get up, wincing. he threw on a clean shirt that was hanging by the frame of his bed and began trudging slowly towards the door. however before he could open it, Mullins was there.
“cap’n. ya should be restin’.”
something was different about Mullins. his usual rosy complexion was paled and he had sweat lining his brows. and his voice sounded weaker too, as if he was…scared. something was wrong.
“Mullins…what happened?”
as soon as the words fell from his lips, he felt cold metal press against his throat. Carlos raised his hands in surrender.
“you know i’m unarmed, Mullins. what’s with the hostility?”
he asked calmly, in a way someone would, a frightened animal. Mullins’ hands shook, blade wavering.
“king’s orders.”
Mullins said, gulping. and Carlos believed him. why else would his friend pull a sword on him when he was barely functional as is? he considered disarming Mullins, familiar with all of his weak points from having trained with him for so long but before he could do anything else, the throat was lowered. Mullins let out a choked sound and his eyes were teary.
“i’m sorry cap’n. he’s got my wife and kids…”
just how cruel was this man? Carlos clenched his jaw tightly and took a deep breath. he picked the sword up and handed it to Mullins.
“do as he says.”
Carlos says, reassuring the older man with his dark sincere gaze. the gratitude and guilt on Mullins’ face was enough for Carlos to put his hand out, ready to be bound and brought to the castle.
but what he didn’t expect was seeing you in the same predicament. your cheeks were flushed and tears pearled on your pretty lashes. you were his angel. yet, here you were with your wings clipped and your wrists rubbed raw by the bindings on them. he couldn’t even be a good guard dog. the least he could do. his feet began moving towards you only for the guards to haul him back and force him onto his knees with a loud thud.
blooms of red began to form on his bandages, wounds reopening from the force and exertion. you couldn’t face him. your plans of saving him had failed and the guilt of meeting the gaze of the part of your soul that was soon to wither away because of you was too much to bear. so you let your head bow.
“your majesty, let me bear the weight of her sins.”
his voice was steady, like a man who was already resigned to his fate. the king scoffed.
“you think i’d let those who make a fool of me get away that easily?”
his question sent a chill down Carlos’ spine.
“you two lovebirds are sentenced to the dungeons. due for execution tomorrow.”
Carlos was momentarily frozen in surprise. his brows furrowed and his protest was blurted out immediately without hesitation.
“but she’s your own flesh and blood! your daughter!”
He glanced towards you, expecting the same but your eyes held a deep resignation. you gave him a weak smile and shook your head.
“all the better to set an example with. and besides, i’ve always wanted a son.”
and with those cold and uncaring words, Carlos and you were hauled down the spiralling stairs that grew dimmer the deeper it went. as your eyes adjusted to the dark, they met the watchful eyes of many others whose eyes held no more light like the ones above. they tossed the both of you into the same cell and the metal door clanged shut behind you, followed by the sound of a key locking it.
you slumped to the floor, the drain stopper from the day finally unplugged, showing its toll on you. he followed suit, taking a seat by your side because it’s the most natural thing in the world for him. he would go to the ends of the earth for you, nothing’s changed. you leaned your head against his sturdy shoulder.
“i’m sorry.”
you sobbed, eyes blurring with tears as you laid there. he looped his bound arms around you and pulled you closer, stubbled cheek pressing flush against the crown of your head. your soft scent brought him comfort. your fingers traced the spots where blood was seeping into the bandage on his wounds once more.
“s’not your fault, princess.”
his response was brief but as the two of you huddled in the cold of the dark musty cell, it was enough. and then there was silence again, you watched through tears at the specks of dust dancing in the halo of the dim torches that lined the hallways of the cell.
“i wish things were different.”
you whispered and as he felt his shirt dampen, he unlooped his arms from around you and cupped your face in his larger hands. the rough pads of his fingers scratched comfortingly across your cheeks to dry your tears.
“for what it’s worth, princess, even if it weren’t, i’d do it again and again if it means that i get to have you by my side.”
he cooed gently, split lip tugging into a smile as he looked at you with all the tenderness in the world. this made you laugh softly in disbelief at his words.
“you’re a madman, my love. why do you devote yourself as such to someone selfish and undeserving like me?”
you ask him, almost frustrated that he wasn’t mad that you had dragged the both of you into this situation. that you had made him lose his honour, grace, and soon his life as well. He took your bound wrists and placed it on his chest, his heart thrums with more liveliness beneath your touch.
“because my heart beats in your name, princess. no matter how undeserving you think you are.”
he leaned in and gently pulled you into a kiss, split lip stretching copper into it. it was deep and passionate and it blinded you to everything else. it was just the two of you now. like in your chambers, the royal garden, and your hearts.
both your bound wrists clinked against each other as your kiss grew more heated. he pressed your back against the jagged stones, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips against his.
“need you, princess.”
he growled softly against your ears, voice filled with exigency. maybe it was a good thing your cell was in the furthest corner of the hallway but then again, the both of you were gonna die tomorrow. who cares? if anything, they would be witness to the devotion that you shared with him for the other. so you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes darkened and voice low.
"let me make you feel good, Carlos. teach me."
you sunk to the floor, knees burning as it scraped the filthy floors. your bound wrists struggled with the waistband of his pants, shaking with an urgency as you freed his tent from its restraints. you held his thick cock in your hand and nuzzled your face against it, the soft of your cheek making him groan softly. he was just as you remembered, neat and clean, only way closer. you began kissing his tip so softly as if he were made of glass which made him let out a choked whimper.
you were clumsy, teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to put his large cock into your mouth. the tip poked at your cheek and your eyes were half lidded. he found you so precious. his pretty little angel doing such sinful things. for him. all for him. he gently tugged your hair, moving your face back and away from his throbbing dick.
"let me help you, princess. open up for me, alright?"
he says softly watching as drool dripped from the sides of your mouth when you opened it wide for him. he hissed as he placed his cock on your tongue, letting you feel the heft of it.
"uff- less teeth, princess."
he hissed softly. despite the clumsy start, you eventually got a hold of it. you took him deeper and deeper down your throat, watching his stifled groans turn into full fledged moans as he lost himself in your vice. your nails pressed crescents into your own palms which were weighed down by the heavy restraints by the front of your reddening knees as he rutted into your throat.
his smell, his taste, and the weight of him hitting the back of your throat over and over made you giddy. his hips began to increase its thrusting speed and you struggled a little to keep up. your eyes burned and you moaned softly as you throated it, vibrations making him groan.
“shit…princess. you- mmf- look so pretty taking me like this…”
he hissed through gritted teeth. his cock throbbed and swelled a little more in your throat. he was close. he tried to pull away but your eyes begged him to stay. that was the final push as he came down your throat, panting and shaking a little. your throat bobbed as you swallowed everything, wringing him dry in the process. he shakily pulled your face away, worry and concern clouding his features.
he kneeled before you and gently wiped the cum from the corners of your lips. your eyes were filled with an unrivalled adoration. nobody had ever looked at him the way you did. and so without hesitation he kissed you, hands tracing the swell of your chest. the fire of need ran ablaze in your skin but you held his hand to stop him, lacing your fingers with his larger ones.
“could you hold me?”
you asked him, voice raw from having taken him so well. he looked guilty for a bit.
“are you sure, princess? what about you?”
he asks, ever the gentleman. you shook your head and gave his hand a squeeze.
"i love you, Carlos."
you whispered as he finally sat beside you, bound arms comfortably heavy as they looped around you. he smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to your temple.
"i love you too, princess. now rest up for me, yeah?
when the guards came to fetch you both the next morning, you linked your pinky with his. the reality of the moment was beginning to further embed itself into your beings. you had so many questions. what comes after? was this a life well-lived? the fear began to gnaw it’s way into your chest.
“Carlos, i’m afraid.”
you tell him softly as you were both marched up the stairs.
“so am i, princess.”
he says honestly and you could see the rawness that he had on his face. he was wearing his heart on his sleeves this time. You both arrived at the public executioning area and there was a sea of crowds watching it all unfold. it was humiliating, but you both felt nothing. the both of you were forced to kneel upon the rough wooden planks that smelled of ghosts’ blood and rot. Your necks were placed upon head holders. Your pinky and his remained interlocked.
“I love you Carlos.”
You tell him, smiling with laboured breath.
“I love you too, princess.”
the sound of the executioner’s heavy strides hitting the planks made you tremble but Carlos simply tightened his pinky’s hold around yours.
“if there’s another life after this, i’ll find you again. I promise.”
“where lilies grow?”
“where lilies grow.”
—
“no! you don’t understand! i need white lilies fresh, not plastic!”
Carlos’ ears perked at the voice as it seemed to prattle incessantly to someone. his eyes landed onto a woman who had her brows furrowed as she listened to the person on the other end of the mobile phone which she had awkwardly wedged between her ear and shoulder.
“my boss is a stickler for specifics and if anything goes wrong he’ll fire me! i’m running late on rent as it is! please just help me out here i-”
her voice trailed off and she sighed. it seemed as if the person on the other line had hung up. she lowered the multitude of bags she had clasped in her fingers onto the ground and slipped her phone into her pocket. it was almost evening and the hustle and bustle of the streets had died down in this part of the city. Carlos watched as she slumped onto the sidewalk, shoulders hunched as she buried her face in her hands.
something about her predicament was pulling him. granted that he was naturally a soft hearted person who would want to help anybody in the same position. however, the pull that this scene before him had was almost hypnotic. supernatural even. he found his feet beginning to move towards her, a nagging thought in his being that he could not under any circumstances let this woman cry. and so before he knew it, he tapped her on the shoulder.
“hey uh…couldn’t help but hear you were stressing over some white lilies?”
he says in his usual friendly voice, but his breath was bated as she began to turn towards him. and it might as well have stopped because the person before him was quite literally the most angelic being he had ever laid eyes upon who radiated such an intense familiarity. as soon as she saw him, the stress in her face melted away and her brows dipped. he knew she felt it too.
“have we met before?”
the both of you asked at the same time which made you both pause. there was a stunned silence for a beat before awkward giggles filled it.
“guess not, huh? anyway, as i was saying, i couldn’t help but overhear that you’re in need of some-”
“white lilies? yeah. it might just be a matter of life and death at this point.”
you sighed tiredly, albeit a little curious about why this handsome stranger approached you to begin with.
“well, today might be your lucky day. i actually work at a flower shop 4 blocks away. we have a huge bulk of white lilies from a cancelled wedding.”
he told you, realising how coincidental it was as he blurted it out but they way your eyes lit up was enough to let any other thought aside from you vanish from his mind. his heart raced as you broke into the most loveliest smile he had ever seen.
“seriously? oh my god! you’re just the miracle i needed today Mr…?”
the soft lilt of your voice despite your immense relief began to pull him back into reality. he shook away his daze and cleared his throat, finding himself smiling too.
“just Carlos is fine.”
he told you. you nodded and practically beamed up at him.
“Carlos. thank you so much! you have no idea how saved i am from being fired…”
his heart warmed as you prattled away, walking side by side with him up the three blocks to his flower store. call it silly but Carlos couldn’t help feeling as if destiny was at play. and he wasn’t the only one.
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