#jack krauser x reader

[adavalesofroses]

Hi! Hope you has good day!

How RE men would react if their s/o is immune? Like doesn't get Infected. Her blood is very unique and like a gift that destroys the virus.

Hope you understood me. TY! ❤️

Hiii! Ty for request :)

That's really interesting request, cause I was already thinking about it.

Resident evil men with immune s/o

Leon S. Kennedy

To him, your blood is both a miracle and a death sentence.

He would insist on keeping your immunity a total secret. He’s seen what the government does to "assets." He would never report it to his superiors.

Every time you get a papercut, he tenses up. Not because he’s afraid you’ll get sick, but because he’s afraid someone will see your blood and start asking questions.

In the field, he becomes even more reckless. He will take a bullet for you because he knows if you are captured, you'll be spent in a lab for the rest of your life.

Feels a strange guilt that he is "broken" (having been infected/cured before) while you are "pure." He sometimes feels unworthy of your perfection.

Leon has recurring dreams of you being "dissected" by Umbrella remnants. He often wakes up in a cold sweat just to check if you're still sleeping beside him.

​He has a hidden "Go Bag" with fake passports. If the DSO or BSAA ever finds out about you, he is prepared to desert his post and disappear with you forever.

​If his friends (like Chris or Claire) were dying, he would agonize over whether to use your blood to save them, fearing it would expose your secret.

Chris Redfield

Your blood represents the one thing he’s fought his whole life for: an end to the nightmare.

​Chris treats your safety like a military operation. Your home is the most secure "safe house" on the planet, equipped with high-tech sensors and panic rooms.

​He is a hero, and knowing your blood could save the world kills him. He wants to help humanity, but he loves you more than humanity. He chooses you every time.

He insists on training you in high-level CQC. He wants you to be so dangerous that no one can ever take you to a lab against your will.

In his rare quiet moments, he’ll press his forehead against yours and just breathe. You are the only thing in his life that isn't "rotting," and he finds peace in that.

​Chris grows cynical toward his own organization. He begins to filter what information he gives them, terrified that a "leak" would put a target on your back.

​He might eventually trust Claire with the secret, but only her. They would form a "Circle of Silence" to keep you hidden.

​He hates the idea of you being a "resource." If a doctor even mentions "sampling," Chris’s hand goes straight to his holster.

Ethan Winters

Ethan is already "different" (Mold-connected). You are immune, you are the stable anchor his family needs.

​His first thought is for Rose. He is overjoyed that your immunity might protect your daughter from the "curse" he carries in his own DNA.

​He tries to use your immunity as an excuse to live a boring life. "We don't need to worry about the Mold, honey, let's just go get groceries."

​Because Ethan has "died" and come back, he finds your biological strength fascinating. He jokes that you’re the "real" superhero of the family.

​If he’s injured, he might half-jokingly ask if a kiss from you counts as a "booster shot" for his own healing.

​Ethan is less "tactical" than Chris but more "suspicious." He doesn't trust any doctor, even family physicians. He does all your medical check-ups himself.

​He’s tired of being the one who gets his limbs chopped off. He loves that you are "unkillable" by the virus, but he still treats you like you’re made of glass.

​He looks at you and sees the future of the Winters family—a future that isn't defined by bioweapons, but by a natural, powerful light.

Carlos Oliveira

That makes you a "Goddess" in his eyes, but he loves the woman, not the miracle.

Makes jokes to keep things light.

"So, if a zombie bites you, does the zombie die of a headache? That’s my girl!"

​He becomes your literal shadow. He’s the husband who "happens" to be waiting in the parking lot every time you leave work.

​Having worked for Umbrella (U.B.C.S.), he knows how corporations think. He will lie to anyone—even his best friends—to protect your identity.

He feels a renewed sense of purpose. He isn't just fighting for a paycheck or a cause; he’s fighting for the "Cure" that sleeps in his bed every night.

​He dreams of moving you to a remote island or a jungle hideout where "The Virus" can't reach you and the "Scientists" can't find you.

​He’s very "touchy-feely." He needs constant physical contact to remind himself that your blood is warm and your heart is beating—that you are human, not a specimen.

​If it came down to a choice between the world and you, Carlos would let the world burn. He’s seen the world; he thinks you’re better

Albert Wesker

You are the evolution he’s been looking for, but his ego demands he owns you exclusively.

​He views your immunity as proof that you were "destined" for him. You are the only person he considers his biological peer.

​He keeps you in a "Gilded Cage." You have every luxury, but you are never, ever alone. He has cameras and guards (and himself) watching you 24/7.

​Would try to study your blood to "perfect" his own virus. He wants to merge his power with your immunity to create a new species.

​He doesn't fear for your safety; he fears for his "property." If someone so much as scratches you, he doesn't just kill them—he'd erases their entire lineage.

​Wesker has a private lab where only he is allowed to study you. He finds the way your blood "murders" his virus to be an erotic display of power.

​He shows "love" by making sure you are the most powerful person on the planet alongside him. He wants to rule a dead world with you as his immortal Queen.

​He might actually stop his world-ending plans if he realizes that your blood is the only thing he needs to achieve his "New World Order."

Luis Serra

He is fascinated by your biology. He’ll spend hours looking at your blood under a microscope (with your permission), whispering, "Brilliant... simply brilliant."

​For the first time, he refuses to publish his findings. He burns his notes. He would rather the world stay sick than see you in a cage.

​Luis uses his genius to create "false" medical records for you. He makes you look biologically "boring" on paper so no one ever suspects your gift.

​He uses his wit to distract people. If someone gets too close to the truth, he’ll spin a wild lie or create a diversion to lead them away from you.

Luis often calls you his "Miracle." He thinks it’s poetic that a man who made so much poison ended up falling in love with the only antidote.

He is the only one who actually understands how your blood works. He’ll explain it to you in long, rambling, romantic lectures.

He feels that by keeping you safe and happy, he is finally making up for the mistakes he made in Spain. You are his "Santi" (Saint).

Karl Heisenberg

If you are immune, he sees you as the ultimate "Middle Finger" to her.

​He would find it hilarious.

"You hear that, Miranda? She’s the one thing you can’t touch!" He’d celebrate with a lot of moonshine.

Karl is strictly against "testing" you. He’s been a lab rat; he won't let you be one. If any scientist comes near you, he’ll crush them with a scrap-metal hammer.

​Heisenberg treats you like a fellow general. He wants you by his side in the factory, helping him lead his mechanical army against the Lords.

​He’ll make you jewelry out of rare metals that "react" to your presence. He wants everyone to know you belong to the King of the Factory.

​He’ll tell you straight up: "The world wants your blood, doll. But they’ll have to go through a million Soldats to get a drop."

​Might try to find a way to "mist" your antibodies into the air to kill the Megamycete, just to watch Mother Miranda wither away while you laugh.

​He’s a man of fire and metal. If you are ever threatened, he doesn't just protect you—illegally levels entire cities to get you back.

Jack Krauser

He views your immunity as a "biological armor." He treats you with the same reverence a knight shows a holy relic.

​He pushes you to your physical limits. "Immunity doesn't stop a knife, (Name). Get back up." He wants you to be as strong as your blood is.

​He views himself as your personal "Shield." He doesn't care about the virus or the world; his only mission is the survival of his "Objective" (you).

​Krauser has a very "wolf-like" mentality. You are the Alpha female of his pack. He will growl at anyone who gets within five feet of you.

​He’ll brag about your "toughness" to his subordinates. He loves that he married someone who is "unstoppable" in her own way.

​Krauser might literally cut his hand and yours, pressing them together to "bond" his strength with your purity. He believes you make him stronger.

​He would turn down any contract, no matter how much it paid, if it meant leaving you alone for more than twenty-four hours.

[sinsofnivan]

JUST THE TIP?! — RE MEN x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: no summary. just the tip gf x balls deep bf trope.

TAGS: implied marathon sex, dumbification, overstimulation, unprotected sex, this is all consensual, but just in case, i will tag this as dubious consent.

THIS IS MEANT FOR FANTASY ONLY.

PAIRINGS: LEON KENNEDY/you, LUIS SERRA/you, ALBERT WESKER/you, JACK KRAUSER/you, CARLOS OLIVEIRA/you, CHRIS REDFIELD/you.

A/N: consider this as an apology for being away, and will probably continue to be away after a while. T_T but i hope everyone has been doing well.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

LEON S. KENNEDY. ♡

you don't know how long you both have been indulging in each other—all you know is that your cunt's jus' so sensitive. but you want more. you need more. thinkin' about being empty and not being stretched full by your boyfriend's makin' your waterline glimmer with tears.

"leoooon, please—,"

leon stared at you, in awe that you were still conscious. aware. clearly, he's not fucking you properly. "please what, angel?" "fuck me—fuck me, please. need your cock. just put it in," his fingertips tease your clit, and you whine, shaking your head. "nooo—nooooo . . need your cock. please, leon,"

today, leon finds out his ovulating girlfriend can turn into a literal succubus.

"but you said your cunt's all sore, sweet girl. you were crawling away," open-mouthed kisses are bestowed on your cheek. "just the tip. just put the tip in," leon could feel his cock stir, quickly growing erect with your neediness.

"okay, baby. whatever you say," he kisses your teary eyes before hovering over you and grabbing ahold of your legs. just the tip. just the tip. just the tip. leon has to repeat to himself, lathering the leaking crown with his creampie mixed with your slick.

just the tip. just . . the tip.

your creampied pussy makes a lewd squelch as leon slowly pushes the head in. but you're both in cloud nine, eyes rolling like it's the first time you've fucked each other. "y, yes, like that!" you whimper, reaching over to your hypersensitive clit and making aimless circles.

leon begins to move, only giving your cunt shallow, slow thrusts. "fuck, angel—," he lets his head fall back, pleasure enveloping his tip. your cunt's so fucking wet and warm. your fingers pick up their pace, cunt throbbing with intense pleasure. who knew you could jus' get off from just the tip?

"faster,"

faster?

how can leon do that without shoving himself balls deep into you? "faster—pleaseplease, leon," you sobbed. "y/n—i," he bucked his hips, trying to go faster without splittin' you open with his cock. whimpers are spilling from leon's mouth, growing needier by the second, his vision continuing to blur as he eased just the tip in, as per your request.

the way you were clenching around him, creaming around his cock—it drove him crazy. how could he not fuck you? leon has to reminded himself that you want just the tip. but he's relying solely on instinct. and before he could even realize it, he's plunged himself deep by accident, and you're wide-eyed, an unanticipated orgasm taking you both by surprise.

"leon—♡!"

"y/n—i'm sorry, sorry—,"

he can't stop. he won't stop, pounding you into the mattress and making sure you feel every length of him with every ferocious thrust. he's drooling, watching you squirm. something about seeing your pussy spurt out clear fluid with every push in makes him feral, potentially unlocked a new turn on and fantasy to jerk off to.

"t, told you just the tip," you whimper, sniffling, and leon cradles your head, essentially smushing your face into his chest. "sorry. 'm sorry, sorry—i l, love your cunt." leon sobbed, his hips doing all the work for him, pummeling into you without mercy.

spit's shining on leon's built chest as you automatically kiss and lick at the area. marks in the shape of your canines are left, and leon hisses when you bite him again.

"gonna cum, y, y/n—gonna cum—cumming. 'm cumming, oh god,"

he vigorously rams his cock in your leaking pussy, hard yet hurried; it's sloppy, and leon's just desperate to fill you again. your moans are muffled by his flesh, and leon has yet to notice that he's crushing you with his chest. not that you minded, either.

with a few more unrhythmic slams of his hips, he's spilling himself in you, all of his cum just overspilling as he kept rutting into you. "hah— h, haah . . so good—so good," he babbles, spit dripping on his chin as his eyes rolled back. "leooohn—," you grunt from beneath your boyfriend.

it's only when his orgasm finally comes down that he stops moving, clarity slowly seeping into his fucked out mind. he retires from you almost immediately, now-concerned eyes soaking in the sight of you. did you pass out? "y/n," a hand caresses your rosy cheek.

"y/n, please come back to me,"

"mhh . . "

oh thank god. he knows you're just fine, but he was still worried. "are you okay?" he whispers, brushing away the stray strings of your hair. "i'm sorry, i was . . too into it," you chuckle when you feel him pepper your face with kisses.

"i'm fine. still in one piece, baby."

you both groan when he slowly pulls out, the rest of his creampies spilling out of your gaping cunt. "i love you, leon." you mutter, weakly wrapping your arms around him. "i love you too, angel."

LUIS SERRA. ♡

"luis . . just the tip,"

you both really shouldn't have fooled around with these aphrodisiacs. it's been hours and his cock's yet to come down. luis isn't even sure if he can cum anym—

wait. did he hear that right?

"what'd you say, mami?"

it's harder to hear you when you're bent over, and especially when you're mumbling and barely coherent. "the tip—jus' the tip," you whine. "is my bebé sensitive?" he drags a finger over your slit, and you squeak, body jerking in response. your knees almost gave out. "luiiis . . jus' the tip, p, por favor . . "

you poor thing. he affectionately runs a hand over your spine, down to your ass where he kneads your curvaceous flesh. "por supuesto, amor. we can go slow. and . . just the tip," [ of course, love. ] he thought he could do it. luis can control himself, can go slow if requested—usually—but the drug that ran through his veins made that fucking impossible. swallowing a nervous lump, he prods the tip against your slit. fuck, you're so fucking wet. this wasn't fair.

with a slow push of his hips, your warmth embraces his sensitive cocktip. "oh, fuck. oh my fucking god. dios mio," luis's grip on your ass tightens, his own way of restricting himself. "sólo quiero follarte," [ i just wanna fuck you, ] he confesses, but only thrusts the tip in and nothing else.

"me estás matando aquí, bebé," [ you're killin' me here, baby. ] luis babbled on, a shiver running down spine. "are you sure you're sensitive? y, you've been—you've been always able to take it," turns out, he didn't have it in him to fulfill your request. luis could hear the obscene squelches your creamy pussy made, and his brows narrowed as he winced, almost as if he was pained from your instruction. yet, his restrained thrusts—it was more like gentle rocking, to be honest—continued, the tip pulling out with an obscene pop with every withdrawal of his hips.

he enjoyed it, of course. more than anything. but luis was a greedy, hungry man. yearning more. needing more. your pussy was just so fucking inviting, creaming all over for him with just the tip—fuck, you can't ask this from him.

"bebé—y/n, i can't—can't take it anymore. i have to. t, tengo que follarte," [ i have to fuck you. ] your eyes widened when luis slowly slides in an experimental inch. you squeal, reaching behind you with one arm, but luis just pins it on your back.

the moment he's stuffing himself completely fucking full into you, you're just sobbing, legs shaking from the mind-numbing pleasure. luis was, too, not even realizing he had just cum in you. his hips moved like clockwork, "luis! luiissss—fuck!" was all you could cry out. you squirmed, writhed, tried to crawl away from the addicting pain of pleasure, but he's tugging you right back and slamming himself into you to the hilt.

"lo siento—lo siento bebé. feels good, h, haah . . " [ i'm sorry—i'm sorry, baby. ]

all that cum pouring out of you made it much, much easier to pound that cunt. "h, haaah—fuck! luiiss—," you sobbed, unable to stop your legs from giving out. his chest rests warmly on your back, and you feel a loving kiss pressed on your temple.

"te amo, te amo . . . " he murmured as he pummeled that pussy, making sure that the tip thwacked against your perky cervix and hitting all the right spots. your head rests nicely on the pillow, and you're so fucked out, you think you're about to pass out from all the pleasure.

the bed creaks as luis kept ramming his cock deep into you, and you squeal as another orgasm washes over your body. the nth orgasm made your eyes cross, made you see fucking stars as your legs quivered and you clutched the sheets helplessly. luis didn't see it, but he sure as hell fucking felt it as you squirt all over him and his legs. "dios—dios mio, you're making a fu, fucking mess,"

his thrusts begin to slow down, hard-on still intact, but the aphrodisiac wasn’t as strong as it was from the beginning. blinking, luis realizes he was crushing you by resting his whole weight on you. "shit, shit—y/n, i'm sorry," he shuddered when he slips out of your creampied pussy. "mierda, hace frío," [ shit, it's cold. ] is whispered to himself whilst he gently lays you on your back.

"luiiis . . " you huffed. "that's not the tip," "i know, i know. i'm sorry. but, in my defense, eso es imposible," [ that's impossible to do. ] an affectionate hand caressed your hair. "still sensitive, prinsesa?" you groggily nuzzle your face in his arms.

you only hummed. the next minute is spent in silence, as luis kept you warm and held you firmly. "next time, no more aphrodisiacs," you stir as he spoke, letting out a scoff. "what? booooo."

"wha—excuse you, señorita, why are you booing me?"

"oh, c'mon. don't lie. that was fun,"

"jesus, you are such a freak. me asustas. you need to read the bible or something,"

"wow. like it wasn't you who bought those pills!"

"oh. ehehe. right."

ALBERT WESKER. ♡

bro this gif im going to start s/creaming

you're already fucked out. already trembling from the orgasms wesker's given you, and it's all thanks to the new toys he had bought from his trip. a clit sucker and a vibrating, ridged, girthy dildo. you sobbed as wesker kept thrusting the toy in and out of you, making sure you take all of its length.

"f, fuck—! s, sir, cumming—, 'm cumming,"

there wasn't much you could do, not when a silk ribbon tied your wrists and ankles to the headboard. ( he bought those, too, by the way. ) "again? look at the mess you just made." you look over at the silicone, the base was coated in your creaminess—and it was already smearing to his already-soaked fingertips.

it was so easy for him to break you, and he hasn't even undressed himself yet.

your hips buck against the air, and the unintentional reflex just makes you grind your clit against the toy that lavished its attention on you. "fuuck—! fuckfuckfuck—, a, albert—!" you clutched onto the ribbons, eyes rolling as you felt your cunt throb with need. you were close, you could feel it in the pits of your stomach. "what was that?"

wesker clicked his tongue, clearly displeased. "you call me sir, brat. or are these toys getting into that head of yours?" you hear a few clicks, and your eyes widened when you realized that the clit sucker's set to its highest setting. "s, sir—i'm sorry! i'm sorry!"

the dildo could never compare to your sir's cock—never—but the extra sensations of the pulsations and the ridges quickly sent you to the edge, never missing where you were most sensitive, always grazing that spongy nub that made your mouth fall agape. "don't w, wanna cum anymore—too much," you whimpered.

"aw," he cooed, a small smile appearing on his lips; barely noticeable. "that's really too bad, pup." he taunts, giving you a slow, but hard thrust. you squealed, clutching on to your ribbons.

"you're not in charge here,"

your cries are music to his ears, and his eyes gaze over to your squirting cunt in amusement. even though you're trembling and drooling, he's yet to withdraw the toys from you.

"are you?" "n, no, sir!" he's tight-lipped and has yet to move an inch. "n, no, sir! i'm n, not in chaaaarge—y, you are!" "hm," good enough. much to your relief, both are turned off, and you're granted a few seconds of relief.

your body relaxes on the soft bed, chest rising as you pant. “colour?” wesker asks, a rough palm caressing your shaking thighs. “g, green,” you mutter. “good. ‘m not done yet,”

wesker retires from the bed, taking his sweet time in undressing himself. it was quite the sight, though; seeing him undo his tie, unbuckle his pants. his boxers had a wet spot from his leaking tip. “you’ve been a good pup, darling.”

the bed sinks with his added weight, and you watch him leave kisses on your inner thighs, stroking his cock with a spare hand as he lathered his pre all over his monstrous girth. fuck . . could you take that? you don’t think y’have it in you. but you didn’t want to stop. y’wanted him . .

“s, sir,”

you call, and wesker’s eyes tilt up. now that he was much closer, y’could see how blown out his pupils were. “yes, my love?” he asked as he positions himself, grabbing ahold of your thighs as he slaps his fat cock atop your mons.

“c, can you put just the tip i, in—?”

wesker acts as if he didn’t hear a word you just said, rubbing his length all over your slit—continuing to lubricate his shaft with your juices. you gasped when the tip slowly sinks in, and you finally get your answer when he slammed the rest of his girth into you. you screamed, back arching as your eyes crossed.

“why should i?”

he begins to rut into you, pummeling your sensitive cunt with mean thrusts. “tell me, pet. why should i?” you couldn’t utter out a proper response, not when your brain was turning to fucking mush as he pounded you. “speak up, slut.” the added nickname’s making you clench around him, and wesker only scoffed at your lack of coherence.

“gone stupid? from me just putting—hnngg—it in?”

with the position he had you in, it was impossible for the tip to not kiss your cervix, impossible for you to not scream for him as he mercilessly plowed that cunt. "s, sir—h, haaah . . ! fuck—!" your overstimulated pussy's fucking throbbing. a squeal's torn from you as his palm collides with your puffy clit with a smack! the sting's makin' your eyes fucking water, and you could feel your legs tremble again.

"will you tell me what to do again, pet?"

"n, no, sir!"

wesker grinned, rewarding your sore clit with a kind caress of his thumb. "good pet. that's—," he groaned. fuuuck, wesker shudders at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his girth. "—more like it. gonna—gonna fuck you how i want to," his words are emphasized with harsh thrusts, to drill that idea in your pretty fucking head.

"where i want to,"

"u, uh-huh!"

"when i want to,"

"u-uhnnn—y, yes s, siiiir . . ♡ !"

seeing how disheveled and how much of a drooling mess you were, were you even remembering what he was saying? probably not. but don't worry, he's more than willing to remind you where you belonged. he could no longer hold back his noises, but he wasn't even interested in trying, anyway.

the way he sounded—feral, almost beast-like, even—you'd be lying if you said it didn't incite more arousal from you. wesker ensured you felt all of him, hips moving without thought as he mercilessly slammed into that tight fit. unfortunately for you, he was more monster than he was human.

you were fucking tightening up around him—still adjusting from the sudden switch from silicone to flesh—and how could wesker ever resist ramming and bullying that pussy with his fat cock? the way he could see how he split you open, shuddering when his tip's right against your cervix—oh, you were such a sweet, sweet pet.

his cock throbbed with the ache of a release. you made it difficult for him to control himself. "fuck—'m gonna fill you up," he hissed. "think y'deserve a creampie from me, sweet girl?" smack! the collision of his palm on your cunt brings you back to reality for a brief moment. "i'm—i'm talking to you," he snarled, an you nod mindlessly. "s, sorrryyyy . . . y, yes sir! yesyesyesyes—please!"

you continue to beg him, plead for his cum whilst he busied himself with rearranging your fucking insides. it's all you could do amidst your fucked out state. don't you worry. wesker was more than satisfied with your expressions.

burying himself to the hilt, you let out a scream as an orgasm is forced from you again, fingertips affectionately rubbing on your clit. wesker can't decide where to look—if he should watch that pussy quiver as you squirted or your face that's contorting as your irises disappear behind your lids.

"yeaaaaah, just like that. look at you—fuck, you're such a slut,"

his hips stutter as spurts of thick, warm semen floods your womb and walls. wesker groaned, shivers pricking his skin. your cunt milked him so good; and not like he'll tell you, but he's fucking obsessed. obsessed with how you're so obedient fo him, how your cunt clenched around him as you quivered from overstimulation.

"tsk, you're leaking. tighten up, slut. don't spill any more," you only oblige him—it's all you could do in your fucked-out state. a groan echoes in the room as he slowly slips out from you. from where wesker knelt, he had the perfect fucking view of your gaping cunt, trying her absolute best to keep it all in as he asked. you squeaked when he caresses your puffy clit affectionately. "shh, shh . . i know," he cooed, the other hand undoing your restraints. you didn't have the strength to keep your eyes open.

the tension slowly rolls off your muscles as he sets your legs down slowly. "you did well, my love," you could feel him bestow kisses on your face. eyes, nose, lips—they were all showered in loving kisses. your wrists are set free as he undid the ribbons on your sore wrists, his lips ghosting over the red marks over your skin, too. "missed you, albert," you mumbled, eyes slowly opening. "i missed you too, my love," there's a faint smile on his face—meant to be witnessed by you only.

"you know we're not yet done, right?"

JACK KRAUSER. ♡

krauser really has lots of pent-up frustration and sexual frustration. blessed with inhumane stamina, it's really no surprise that he can last multiple rounds. 'specially when all of it just piles up on him, mmmm—god, he loves nothing more than taking it out on you and using you for fucking hours.

but krauser is mean. cruel. you want just the tip? that's really—

"too fucking bad, baby,"

that request is fucking impossible, because he's got you folded and locked in a full nelson hold. did you expect that he'd just not bury himself deep in your pretty cunt? your eyes widened as you watched his cock slowly stretched you out again. your cunt was too sensitive.

"n, no—krauser! don't! d, don't—pleasepleaseplease—,"

his balls only throbbed, eyes rolling as your pleas fall to deafened ears. your groans echo in the room as he pushes another inch or two into you. fuck, you need to breathe—

krauser laughed breathily in your ear. "what was that?" you couldn't muster a single word—it was all just pathetic squeaks. "just the tip, you say?" he'd purr, pushing in as slow as he can so your pulsating walls can feel every single inch stretching you. ruining you.

"c, can't—,"

"can't what? can't speak?"

he completely slams into you with a loud plap! you're speechless and fucking stupefied—but, frankly, what else is there to say? "urgg—feel that?" this fucking asshole just had to start gyrating his hips. you could feel the tip poke 'nd prod against that cervix, and fuck, you're trembling.

"c'moooon, sweets. y'better be awake,"

sticky drool's drippin' from those pretty lips as he began to pound you like he hated you. him doing all the work was not a problem, not at all. krauser could easily manhandle you, and he made sure that you knew. he was bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing and fuck—you couldn't even think of anything to say aside from his name and ah's! and oh's!

it didn't help his cock was a mix of both veiny and fucking gargantuan—you're convinced your cervix's all bruised because his tip kept hitting 'nd hitting all of your spots. "love your cunt—fuck, you like this? huh? bet you do. look at your cunt's reflection. messy fucking slut," he groaned, ramming into you vigorously. it's like he hasn't even broken a sweat.

"k, krauseeeer—," you sobbed, absolutely broken and cockdrunk. "yeah? 'm here," he pants, eyes threatening to roll back. but he had to watch you in the mirror, had to watch you crumble and go fucking stupid just from his cock. "what does my baby want, h, huh? want me to go faster?" before you had the chance to respond, he's fucking pummeling into you faster than you could even blink; you're fucking dizzy and barely lucid, but that's okay. no need to think, krauser's got you. ♡

"'m c, cummingggggg—cumming. j, jaaaaack—♡!"

"my fucking goooood—fuuuuuuck . . look at this squirting cunt,"

clear liquid's spurtin' out of that stretched pussy, coating him and yourself as he forces an orgasm outta you. you're so fucking hot, fuck. krauser's never ever ever letting you go. "you love my cock, babe?" if it wasn't for how both his large hands held your head, you would have nodded. "u, uh-huh! love—l, love your cock—♡!" "attaaa girl. i love your cunt so, so fucking much—♡,"

krauser doesn't even realize he's drooling himself—completely immersed in the pleasure. he could stay buried in you for fucking eternity. "fuck—wanna breed you. lemme breed—lemme breed you. need to knock you up," he babbled on, focused on jus' chasing his release. and with the pace of how he fucked you—it wouldn't take long.

and you?

you're fucking spritzing all over him everytime his tip grazes against that spongy nub in your dripping pussy. why'd you even ask him to not put it all in? clearly, you loved this. but don't worry. for once, he'll humour you. "y'wanted just the tip, right?" "h, hnnngg—♡," good enough of an answer for him. you're brought back to reality briefly when his movements halt. confused, you only watched your obscene reflections whilst he shifted his hips. "j, jack, what're you—?!" your eyes widened when you feel his tip slowly bury into the tight barrier of flesh in your cervix.

krauser whimpered. fuuuuuuck, you were sucking him in so good. he can't even pull out. "baby—baby, oh god. fuck, fuck. i'm fucking—cumming. 'm cumming—oh my gooooood," it didn't take any more thrusts for him to start filling your womb up with fertile, sticky cum.

you whined as your cunt's flooded with his seed, and you couldn't do anythin' except for clawing on his built forearms as he held you in place. "urgg—yeah . . . just like that . . fuuuck, i love your pussy baby," you couldn't utter a word. you felt so fucking full. krauser finally releases your head, but still held your body close as he settles on the edge of the bed. you practically collapse on his muscular frame when he finally sits, and that's okay. ♡ krauser made sure he held you tight, wrapping large arms around your body and leaning into you so he could kiss your face.

"tongue out, babe. lemme . . "

you oblige mindlessly, sticking your pretty tongue out for him. krauser's scarred lips wrap around your wet muscle, groaning as he sucked on it. didn't take long 'til he was devouring your spit-stained mouth as you cockwarmed him.

"mmmm. ♡."

CHRIS REDFIELD. ♡

this gif is so? um.

chris usually loves to prep you. loves to spend his time devouring your pussy and having his lips wrapped around that sensitive clit.

but you've got work in an hour, and time isn't a luxury you both have. "chris, j, just the tip, okay?" you say, raisin' your hips as you bent over the dining table; weight propped up on your soft palms. of course you can't say no to him, especially when the outline of his erected cock on his grey boxers is all you've been seeing this morning. but you're just a girl. you have needs and wants.

"just the tip?"

chris asks, pressing his clothed chest against your back. you feel his stubble against your cheek as he pressed open-mouthed kisses on your skin. "i don't . . i don't think i can do it, princess," he whined as his hips push forward. you couldn't utter another word as the leaking head stretches your cunt out.

you shuddered, lips quivering as you clutched on to whatever surface you were bent over on. "y, you caaaan—a, aaah, fuck—you have to . . ” you whined. but chris was greedy. hungry.

he’s not sure where he gets the courage to pull out, but he does. the tip slides out from you with a lewd, almost muted, pop! and you’re both unsatisfied, left yearning with feeling the other completely; but it makes do. it has to. tonight, he can have you for as long as he wanted.

“y/n, p, please—,” he pleads, still fuckin’ you with just the tip. chris can feel just how wet you are, hear how that cunt squelched as bucked his hips. “n, nooo—chris, i’ll—i’ll be late,” “don’t go,” his canines graze your skin, and you squealed when he pushes an inch in. your cunt’s pulsating—trying to accommodate his fat cock without prep. “don’t go—y’don’t h, have to go. please stay,” “ch, chris, i—hnnn!” the rest is completely slammed into you, and your eyes cross. chris takes advantage of your agape mouth, kissing you and letting his tongue glissade over yours.

chris starts to pound that cunt, and muffled cries were swallowed by his lips. you can’t really lie, this felt waaaay better than just the tip. the way the tip bulges out from your lower tummy, the way the pink crown keeps kissing that sensitive cervix, it can’t compare. ever.

“mhhhf,” you groan against his lips, and chris playfully bites down on your lower brim. it was hard to take in air when every thrust into you knocked the air outta your lungs. chris parts from you as he held your hips with those big hands of his.

his pace quickens, ramming into you mercilessly. you're both whimpering, voices blending together in melodious sin; whatever thoughts you had before—gone. not when chris had the skill to turn your brain to mush. "goddd—fuck, y/n. y, y'feel so goooood . . " chris sobbed. if only you could see his face. brows scrunched as he struggled to keep his eyes open; only you could bring these facial expressions to this big, beefy man's face.

you squealed when a hand snakes under your skirt, fingertips rubbing against your neglected clit. "oh fuck!" you mewled, unable to keep your cries to a low. "feel good, princess?" chris purred whilst fucking you into oblivion. "u, uh-huh—♡!" fuuuuck, his balls are fucking throbbing.

"d, don't go . . jus' stay. be my pretty little wife. i can t, take care of you,"

he babbled on, rutting into you, stuffing you full with that veiny cock. chris wants nothing more than to fucking breed you, fill your womb with his cum. "'m g, gonna fucking cum," he pants, chest heaving. but he doesn't stop pummeling that cunt—goes faster, actually. chasing his release and eager to give you yours. the table's creaking, and everything on it shook with every thrust. upstairs neighbour behaviour.

you screamed when he lightly pinches that sensitive bud, and you're seeing stars; mouth agape and back completely arched as he coaxes an orgasm from you. your legs trembled, and chris bit on his lip. "fuuuuck, baby. you're so hot—love you, i love you," "chriiiis, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck. love youuuuuu . . ♡,"

your lips crash together again, sloppily kissing each other as chris fucks you through your high. he grunts, wrapping his lips 'round your tongue, tasting you. with another slam of his hips, you moan against his mouth when he's completely buried deep in you; thick ropes of cum flooding your creamy, spasming cunt. he can't move any more, can't think anymore. he pulls away from you, because he's sure he'll forget how to breathe.

"oooooh, fuuuck—♡,"

spit's trickling down his stubbled chin, and chris is quiet for a moment; sent to cloud nine and completely fucked out. it takes a minute or two for him to recover, and he tilts your head to the side so he could briefly kiss you while he slid out of your cunt. you both groan, and chris kneads your ass, watching his cum slowly leak from your gaping pussy.

"heheh . . gonna call in sick?"

well, you couldn't feel your legs, so. yes.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA. ♡

carlos watched you writhe whilst you came undone from his tongue. your fingers were tugging on his already disheveled, raven tresses. it's your fifth orgasm—he thinks, if he's counting right; and he'd gladly give you more. his wet kisses trail up your tummy, chest, lips, and you liked how your taste lingered on his tongue.

"carlooos,"

"yes, meu bebê?"

carlos gets a realization tonight.

"want more. 'jus wanna feel you,"

he spoils you a little too much.

your cunt was still twitching with need. you'd do anything to satiate your hunger, anything to relieve that arousal pooling in your tummy. even though he's spent the last few minutes coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

but he loved seeing you like this. desperate. needy. like he was the only person you needed. you knew just how to get his gears going without trying. "hmm? but you just came, meu bebê. my beard's still wet," he teased, lips latching on your neck and tracing your skin with sharp canines. you held on to his built biceps, and carlos brings your knuckles to his lips. "j, jus' the tip. please. i want more," "i know, i know, bebê. shh . . "

he can never resist you. especially when you were begging him so prettily. didn't take long for him to prod his tip against your needy hole. you both gasp when the tip slowly sinks in, slowly stretches that wet pussy apart. your nails dig into his skin, and carlos bit his lip. "fuuuck, y/n. your pussy—," fucking warm 'nd tight. clenching on him like you needed him.

carlos didn't mind being bossed around by you, especially by you. he'd do anything you'd ask before you could even blink, but he just has to remind you who's in charge.

you gasped when he slowly sheathes an inch or two into your tight cunt. "carlos, w, what're you—?!" he makes sure to slide in nice and slow, so you'll feel every inch of him splitting him open. and also so he can savour that surprised look in your face.

especially when he harshly shoves the rest of his cock in your leaking pussy, god. you'll kill him. "y, you're so unfair, princesa. so cruel t'me," he cooed, not even giving you the time to process a thought as he began to pound you with ungodly stamina.

"you think i don't have needs too? think i don't need to fuck this cunt and to fuck you 'til you're cockdrunk and overstimulated?" nasty mouth, nastier thrusts. your eyes crossed, body jouncing with every slam forward of his hips.

"c, carlos—h,hnnngg!"

he grins. "yeaaaah, that's right, baby. scream my name." you were so sensitive already, flesh walls spasming around his veiny girth, but fuck, you were oozing so much milky essence, it smeared all over his balls. he leans in so your lips could crash together, and carlos grunts against your mouth as you instinctively wrap you legs around him. of course he had to pick up his pace. why wouldn't he? he was such a good boyfriend to you, paying attention to all your needs.

you whine when he parts from you, but he has to, or else he'd lose his balance. he needed to focus on fucking you, tire his pretty bebê out. he bites his lip when you run your palms all over his built chest and abdomen.

"fuckfuckfuck—carlos—♡!"

a hand wraps around your breast, kneading your tits and running his fingers over your erect nipple. whatever thought you had, he quickly fucked it out from that pretty mind of yours. whatever. not like you needed to think when he could do that for you. well, try.

"y/n—♡ godddd, minha linda garota," [ my pretty girl, ] he babbles on, absolutely hypnotized. god, what were you doing to him? carlos kept pummeling that cunt, bed creaking obnoxiously in the process but it seemed that neither of you cared.

more marks littered his skin, ranging from bites to scratches, and they were definitely going to be sore later, but that's okay, a little pain didn't hurt no one. spit trickles down on carlos's stubbled chin, and you lift yourself up a little jus' so you could lick it up.

"y/n—♡! f, fuck! você é tão porra de suja, m, merda!" [ you're so fucking filthy, shit! ] hooking his arms around your thighs and lifting it up to his shoulders, you squealed when he begins to fuck you faster. harder. sounds of skin slapping growing louder as he rammed you without mercy.

a spare thumb began to trace aimless circles on your clit, and you screamed as an orgasm was ripped from your poor oversensitive cunt. "c, carlos—♡! oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck!" you clutched onto the pillows, sheets, fucking anything. you sobbed, and carlos gently flicks his middle finger against that puffy clit—you squealed as you squirt in small fountains.

"you're sensitive, aren't you, bebê? eu te quebrei, princesa?" [ did i break you, princess? ]

and oh, the way you only responded in fucked out mewls, how fucking precious. now that you've coated his girth in your squirt, it was much easier for him to move in 'n out. you could hear jus' how wet he made you, how that soaking cunt squelched with every thrust. you were such a slut for your boyfriend, and rightfully so.

he stops being cocky when his orgasm nears, grunts turning into high-pitched whimpers as he fucked you into the mattress. carlos tried to keep his monstrous, merciless pace, but fuck, he was so close. the closer he was to filling your cunt up and flooding your walls, the sloppier his hips got, probably from fatigue.

but you were such an angel, his god-sent angel, movin' your hips as you tried to meet his thrusts halfway. carlos could cum at the fucking sight of you trying to fuck yourself against him.

"oh god—♡! oh god, fuck, fuuuuck. vou gozar. vou te engravidar. ai meu deus." [ gonna cum. 'm gonna get you pregnant, oh my god. ] carlos sobbed, and after a few more push of his hips, he's crying out as ribbons of thick cum filled that cunt.

he rides his high out with a few more mindless thrusts, combing a spare hand through his hair. he's in fucking heaven, jesus christ. it's you that brings him back to reality, rubbing his forearm and eventually interlacing your fingers with his.

"oh my god, baby. are you okay?" he caressed your face, and you tiredly smile at him. "never better," you kissed his palm, and carlos tucks away the stray hairs on your face. "you sure? you okay? does anything hurt?" "no, i'm fine. well, a little sore and sensitive, but it's okay. i like it," a grin tugged on his lips, and he shook his head. "you're such a freak, baby. it's okay, i love you," a kiss is pressed on your forehead, nose, and then lips.

you shuddered when he pulls out, and his cum slowly leaks from your used, gaping hole. "i love you . . " you mutter, scooting over to the side so carlos can have the space beside you. he sighs in relief when he finally lays down, absolutely spent. "c'mere," carlos sleepily grunts, pulling you to his arms. you took it upon yourself to cover both your bare, sweaty bodies with the blanket.

"did i tire you out yet?" "hmm . . no, not really," you jeered, and carlos chuckled. "well, i certainly tired myself out," you both laugh, and it didn't take long 'til you both dozed off.

end.

A/N: thank you so much for reading! more to cum. ;) also, regarding carlos's fics, i will repair them soon and change his bilingual dialogue from spanish to portuguese. i'd like to apologize for mistaking him as hispanic!

[sadgirlnamedmaria]

MOST DEFINITELY!

@ficfield

------------------------------------

HC Preferences: Resident Evil Boys x Eating You Out

------------------------------------

♂️Male Characters:

Leon S. Kennedy

Chris Redfield

Albert Wesker

Carlos Oliveira

Piers Nivans

Jake Muller

Jack Krauser

Luis Sera

HUNK

Karl Heisenberg

The Merchant

Glenn Arias

------------------------------------

⚠️WARNING: NSFW ASF and Reader is AFAB⚠️

------------------------------------

Leon S. Kennedy

Slow, teasing licks like he’s savoring dessert

Holds your thighs open with that cop grip

Whispers “good girl” every time you moan his name

Loves when you fist his hair and pull

Alternates gentle kitten licks with hard sucks on your clit

Groans into you when you buck against his face

Eye contact king, stares up while his tongue’s buried inside

Uses two fingers to spread you wider for his mouth

Will overstimulate you until you’re shaking and begging

Likes finishing with his thumb on your clit while he tongue-fucks you

Smirks when you squirt on his chin

Kisses your swollen folds after like he’s saying thank you

Secretly loves when you ride his face drunk on whiskey

Calls you “baby” in that low, wrecked voice

Tongue is stupidly precise from years of target practice

Growls if you try to close your legs

Leaves hickeys on your inner thighs as signatures

He loves to have you on your back, ankles over his shoulders

Gets off on how wet you get just from his mouth

Always cleans you up with slow, soft licks until you’re whimpering again

Chris Redfield

Manhandles your hips exactly where he wants them 

Eats you like he’s starving and you’re the last meal on earth 

Thick tongue, no mercy 

Grunts and growls against your pussy like a beast 

Loves pinning your wrists so you can’t push him away 

Favorite move: sucking your clit while two thick fingers curl inside 

Beard burn for days, wears it like a badge 

Tells you to “take it” when you’re close 

Will keep going after you come, just to hear you scream 

Laps every drop like it’s his protein shake 

Likes you sitting on his face so he can suffocate happily 

Massive hands spreading your ass while he eats from the back 

Gets rock hard just from your taste 

Dirty talk in that deep rumble: “This pretty pussy tastes so good” 

Leaves bite marks everywhere 

Loves when you squirm, he just holds you down harder 

Tongue-fucks you until your legs give out 

Smirks when you’re a shaking mess on his mouth 

Will do it anywhere; desk, safehouse floor, backseat 

20. Finishes by kissing you so you taste yourself on his tongue

Albert Wesker

Clinical precision, devastating results 

Treats your clit like a goddamn experiment he’s already solved 

Cold, calculating eyes watching every twitch 

“Come for me. Now.” and you do 

Uses his superior strength to lock your thighs open 

Tongue moves inhumanly fast when he wants 

Loves edging you for science (and his ego) 

Calls you “specimen” or “darling” depending on his mood 

Fingers you at the exact angle that makes you see stars 

Likes you blindfolded, sensory deprivation kink 

Will stop just to make you beg in that icy voice 

Obsessed with how many times he can make you come untouched 

Licks a perfect line from your entrance to clit, slow and deliberate 

Smug bastard hums in satisfaction when you soak his face 

Favorite position: you spread on his desk, legs forced open by his grip

Leaves you ruined and still somehow composed himself 

Wears the gloves sometimes just to feel you clench around leather fingers

Records your moans for later “analysis” 

Growls “perfect” when you finally break 

Cleans you with slow, possessive licks like he owns you

Carlos Oliveira

Enthusiastic as fuck, like Christmas came early 

Grins against your pussy before diving in 

“Tastes so fucking good, princesa” 

Sloppy, wet, noisy; zero shame 

Loves when you grind on his face 

Tongue flicks fast and playful 

Sucks your clit like it’s candy 

8. Fingers you hard while he eats 

Begs you to sit on his face and smother him 

Laughs when you squirt, he’s proud 

Talks dirty in Portuguese when he’s drunk on you 

Will keep going until you push him off 

Favorite move: spelling his name on your clit 

Big hands gripping your ass to pull you closer 

Gets pussy-drunk in under a minute 

1Loves 69 so he can feel you moan around his cock 

Leaves you with a goofy satisfied grin and a soaked beard 

“One more, babe, c’mon” even when you’re crying 

Kisses your clit like it’s his girlfriend 

Always ends with “best meal I ever had”

Piers Nivans

Gentle at first, worships you 

Then gets desperate the wetter you get 

Pretty boy moans into you like he’s the one getting eaten 

“Please let me taste you more” 

Perfect balance of soft licks and firm sucks 

Loves when you praise him, makes him work harder 

Fingers you slow and deep while his tongue circles 

Whimpers when you pull his hair 

Favorite position: you on your stomach, him eating from behind 

Obsessed with your scent, buries his nose too 

Gets teary-eyed when you come on his face 

Always asks if you’re okay after wrecking you 

Tongue is soft but relentless 

Loves making you come quietly in risky places 

Kisses every inch before and after 

Secretly wants you to ride his face until he can’t breathe 

Blushes when you tell him how good he is 

Will spend an hour down there just because he loves it 

Leaves you with soft little “I love you” licks 

Falls asleep between your legs if you let him

Jake Muller

Cocky smirk before he starts 

“Bet I can make you scream in under five” 

Eats you like he’s trying to prove a point 

Rough tongue, rough attitude 

Loves when you fight him, he just pins you harder 

Bites your thighs when you get mouthy 

Fingers you fast and dirty while he sucks 

Talks shit the whole time like “That all you got?” 

Smirks when you squirt, he knew he could 

Loves eating you in front of a mirror so you watch 

Will make you come twice before he even takes his shirt off 

Tongue punches inside like he’s fucking you with it 

Favorite line: “Sit on my face or I’m not moving” 

Growls when you try to be quiet 

Leaves bruises on your hips from gripping 

Gets off on power play, makes you beg 

Sloppy and aggressive, zero chill 

Laughs when your legs shake 

Ends with a hard suck and a “good girl” 

Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like he just won

Jack Krauser

Dominant as fuck; your pleasure is his mission 

Growls orders: “Spread wider.” 

Uses his size to trap you exactly where he wants 

Rough tongue, rough hands, rough everything 

Loves when you struggle, he just smirks 

Sucks your clit hard enough to make you scream 

Fingers you like he’s punishing you (in the best way) 

“Ya come when I say.” 

Will edge you for an hour just to see you break 

Eats you from behind with your ass in the air 

Leaves handprints on your thighs 

Tongue fucks you until you’re dripping down his chin 

Loves knife play, trails the flat side while he licks 

Makes you count your orgasms out loud 

Zero mercy when he’s in the mood 

His favorite reward is making you squirt on command 

Calls you “soldier” when you’re trembling 

Wipes his mouth on your thigh after 

Will do it anywhere if he decides he wants you 

Leaves you wrecked and owned

Luis Sera

Smooth-talking devil the entire time 

“Dios mío, you taste like heaven, cariño” 

Yeases with feather-light licks until you’re begging 

Then devours you like a starving man 

Smokes a cigarette right after, tastes you on his lips 

Loves when you speak Spanish back, even badly 

Tongue does this swirly thing that ruins you 

Fingers you slow while he sucks; perfect rhythm 

Grins when you pull his hair too hard 

He'd love to experiment on how quiet can you stay in public places

Kisses your clit between licks like he’s flirting 

Will edge you just to hear you curse in two languages 

Loves 69, he’s greedy 

Gets off on making you lose your composure 

Leaves lipstick-shaped hickeys if he’s wearing lip balm, which he does

Tongue piercing + skilled mouth = unfair 

Always ends with a dramatic “magnífico” 

Winks when you’re still shaking 

Will write poetry about your pussy later 

“One more taste before I go, sí?”

HUNK

Silent, methodical, terrifyingly efficient 

No talking, just the wet sound of his mouth 

Mask stays on, pulled up just enough 

Cold eyes watching you fall apart 

Eats you like it’s a mission objective 

Zero expression when you scream his name 

Tongue is brutal; fast, hard, relentless 

Holds your hips down with one hand 

Loves when you cry from overstimulation 

Will keep going until you blackout-pass out 

Leaves you with a single gloved finger tracing your lips after 

No aftercare; just disappears into the shadows 

Favorite position: you tied up, helpless 

Uses his teeth just enough to remind you who’s in control 

Gets harder the more you beg him to stop (he won’t) 

Tongue fucks you like a machine 

Zero emotion, maximum precision 

Will eat you through his mask if he’s in a rush 

Leaves you ruined and dripping 

You never hear him leave, just wake up sore and soaked

Karl Heisenberg

Greedy, feral, magneto-ahh bastard 

Uses magnet powers to hold your legs open 

Tongue is rough from years of smoking cigars 

Growls “mine” into your pussy 

Loves when you squirt, he calls it “short-circuiting” 

Bites your clit just to hear you yelp 

Fingers you without his gloves, insanely warm and perfect 

Will edge you with vibranium toys while he licks 

Laughs when you beg, he just goes harder 

Uses magnetic metals to hold your legs open when you try to close them

Talks absolutely filthy “Gonna make this pussy spark for me” 

Loves eating you on his workbench 

Beard + stubble + motor oil smell = overwhelming 

Tongue fucks you until the table shakes 

Makes you come so hard you see stars, and sparks

Will keep a vibrator on you while he licks just to be a dick 

Leaves bite marks and grease stains 

Secretly soft, kisses your thighs when you’re shaking too hard

“That's a good buttercup, now scream again” 

Ends with him grinning like a maniac, face soaked

The Merchant

“Got a special deal for ya, luv” 

Eats you like he’s appraising rare treasure 

Surprisingly gentle, knows exactly what you’re worth 

Hood stays on, glowing eyes watching you writhe 

Whispers prices between licks: “One orgasm… fifty thousand pesetas” 

Tongue is weirdly long; inhuman 

Loves when you try to barter with moans 

Fingers you with gloved hands that smell like gunpowder 

Will stop just to haggle, then dive back in 

Likes you bent over his cart 

“Payment upfront” means three orgasms minimum 

Collects your panties as “collateral” 

Slow, luxurious licks; like he has all the time in the world 

Likes when you tug the hood like you’ll reveal him (you never do)

Will eat you in the middle of a deal, doesn’t care who watches 

Uses a glowing vial as a toy while he licks 

“Interest is compounding, stranger…” 

Leaves you with a discount and shaky legs 

Always throws in something extra if you squirt 

“Pleasure doing business with ya.”

Glenn Arias

Elegant, sadistic, and almost aristocratic

Treats eating you like a five-course meal

“Scream for me, darling. Louder”

Silk tie around your wrists while he works

Tongue is precise, cruel, perfect

Loves when tears run down your face from pleasure

Will make you come until you’re speaking in tongues

Calls you “my beautiful weapon”

Uses his virus-enhanced stamina; never gets tired

Fingers you in perfect rhythm with his mouth

Likes you in lingerie he can rip with his teeth

Slow, torturous circles until you’re sobbing

Then sudden hard sucks that break you

Kisses you after so you taste your own desperation

He enjoys playing a game called "how many times before you pass out"

Leaves hickeys in perfect patterns

“You’re mine to ruin” whispered against your clit

Smiles like a predator when you shatter

Will do it on a balcony, just to remind the world you belong to him

Ends with a soft, mocking “good girl” and a final slow lick

[bretonalchemist]

When the RE men realize they’re in love

Heavily inspired by and written as a thanks to @sadgirlnamedmaria (omg i put the wrong blog at first i'm a dumbass and i am so sorry). I studied these men through her writing (i only played RE8 myself and saw youtubers play 7 & the latest remakes of 2 and 3) like i was that dude on River Monsters trying to figure out how to catch Nessie. You never did send me a prompt, but you seemed happy that I suggested I write for you, so I did it anyway :) Hope you like it <3

Characters: Leon, Chris, Albert, Ethan, Carlos, Luis, Krauser, Heisenberg.

Leon S. Kennedy

You get hurt. You get hurt and he jumps to your rescue, of course. He’s used to being the one-man action team, after all.

When the enemies/creatures have been dealt with, he treats your wounds with a furrowed brow and some sort of tic in his eye. God, he’s fucking tired.

You thank him, and you look so very sincere, but he’s used to that too. And then he checks himself for wounds – he’s always second priority – and when he looks back to the room he’s surprised you’re still here.

People leave. That’s what they do. He helps, he protects, he saves the world every tuesday, he gets thanked, and then people leave.

But you don’t. You stay, you ask if he needs help or a bandage, you thank him again. You ask what your – both of you – next move is. It gets him hesitating, maybe his fingertips even tremble with hope and fear. He’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, all alone, for so long that it’s weird and a little bit terrifying to see you stay.

You keep going together and he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to have disappeared when he turns back, or for you to take an opportunity to go your own way. And still. You don’t. You stay. You fight with him and banter with him and hurt with him.

Maybe you even call him « my hero », which gets him snorting because he doesn’t feel like a hero, more like God’s least favorite pest exterminator.

And because he is God’s least favorite pest exterminator, of course you end up getting separated by a concrete corridor crumbling on itself, only a tiny hole, about the size of your face, allowing you to see and hear each other. Already the weight of the world is back on his shoulders as you try and fail to open a passage on the other side, but when your eyes lock with his he sees desperation mixed with sadness, and he knows what’s coming.

But then you say : « I don’t want to leave you alone. » with a sincerity that he really doesn’t know how to deal with. He almost forgets to breathe. His heart is in his throat and he just nods.

You work together to find a way to regroup. You talk to him the whole time through his talkie. You keep encouraging him : « We’ve got this. » « Okay, one step closer. » « Are you alright ? Please keep talking to me. » And by the time you are finally back together, he knows you’re not going to leave.

And he sure as hell isn’t going to leave you either.

Someone please make one of these terrible github sparkly hello kitty edits of Leon with « God’s least favorite pest exterminator » written in glittery pink letter please the world needs it

Chris Redfield

To be completely honest, he’s a goner from the moment you walk in.

The way you answer him like you’re not scared of him in the slightest has him reeling and wanting you around all of the time.

He’s tired of being the responsible one, the strong one, the capable one. He’s tired of being in charge when the world around him is going to hell.

But you treat him like a normal human being, and it’s a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long. He’s just Chris with you. He loves it.

When you get in trouble he’s terrified. You have him doing stupid things that he would bark at his men for. But the way you thank him and smile at him makes it all worth it. And then you bring his squad stuff like homemade cookies to thank them, like they’re the firemen who got your cat out of a tree, like life isn’t so fucking complicated, and he swears if you weren’t here he wouldn’t care about the fate of the world quite as much.

When he has to leave for a long time and he can’t see you he gets cranky. His men have noticed. One of them even once had the balls to tell him to get one of these old-timey pendants with your picture in it, so he can stare at it while he’s gone like a WWII soldier. Chris put him back in his place swiftly, but in the privacy of his mind, he considered the idea for a moment, despite how ridiculous it is.

The men have a betting pool going on about how long it’s going to take him to ask you out. He knows it. He has thought about betting against himself because he knows he won’t ever do it. You deserve a normal life with a normal man. He’s just hoarding what little normalcy you can give him while he still has access to it.

When they come back this time, a lot of them are hurt and most of them are covered in blood, dirt, and whatever biological weapon it was this time. They get into the decontaminating showers – always too cold, and the pressure is so high it feels like the water is piercing their skin – and go through the battery of usual exams to make sure they’re clean. By the time they’re done it’s late into the night, and while some of them still insist on going home, most of them will spend the night in the rooms reserved for them at the facility.

Chris almost always sleeps there a few nights when they come back. He needs the time to adjust back. The bed is clean and the room is safe, and that’s all he needs to know.

But this time there is something on the bed, next to the pillow. It’s a teddy bear. There’s also a piece of paper with your handwriting. « Got him at the fair, he reminded me of you, so I got him for you :) Please be safe <3 »

The bear is a cheap thing, but it’s got a plushie cigarette sewn on its mouth and a serious look. It’s stupid, but it’s cute. And maybe it’s because he’s tired, but the dam breaks. He picks his jacket back up, takes the bear with him, and leaves the facility, headed to your place in the middle of the night.

He’s not going to ask you out, but he’s going to kiss you senseless, if you’ll have him.

Albert Wesker

You’re a tool. But a useful one.

And if he’s being honest with himself, a pretty one.

Probably his favorite piece on the board.

He knows positive reinforcements ensure loyalty, so he compliments you, makes sure to take notice of everything you do and that you are aware he notices. It starts out forced but it does get... easier and easier.

You respond positively each time, good, it’s working.

He starts getting closer. Drawn to you. Physically. Has trouble keeping himself from touching you. Your hair, your face, your waist.

He tells himself that developping a romantic (on your part) relationship would ensure your loyalty even more – people are stupid when it comes to love. So he does touch, more and more, gives sarcastic quips that you respond to. He loves when it comes to you easily, matching his intellect. He loves when you struggle to find words, his pretty little plaything trying oh so hard to win his favor.

He starts kissing your hands, playing the gentleman in all the right moments, just to get you hooked.

He ignores the way he wants to bite at your neck, mark you, tells himself it’s just lust provoked by all this playing around. He’ll get you there anyway.

When you try to leave – or he thinks you try to leave – it all changes. He goes nuts with anger. He’s not above playing a game of cat and mouse with you. Stalking you, hunting you. You are not allowed to leave.

He’s drunk on you, actually, drunk on something he hasn’t even had yet, but he’ll get it. You’re his. And his alone.

And when he catches you, he’ll make sure you can’t forget it ever again.

Ethan Winters

He’s been through so fucking much, died at least 3 times and was brought back through unethical experiments and the power of God’s twisted sense of humor.

Lost his wife twice. The only good thing left in his life is Rose.

When you come around, he’s wary and tired, but he accepts the help anyway, because if he stops thinking that humans are fundamentaly good he’s going to throw himself off a bridge, and it probably won’t even kill him.

And thankfully, you prove him right.

He only gets to come out of the « medical » facility they’ve got him under surveillance at when they need his abilities to... save the world ? Make it worse ? He doesn’t really know anymore.

You’re his usual companion – his guard dog, he thought bitterly at first – and you do your best to actually help him, not let him take all the risks and do all the work. You even fight for him to finally get an appartment outside of the facility, near Rose. He’s still under surveillance, and he has to attend weekly check-ups, but you’re there every time, if only to be a friendly presence.

He cannot thank you enough, really.

When he starts catching feelings for you, he beats them back into the darkness of his heart with a stick. He has loved and been loved and has had that love turned against him in the most painful ways already. He can’t go through that again.

Rose is different. Firstly because she’s his daughter, he really can’t help but love her unconditionally, and he does. Secondly, because she has powers that keep her mostly safe from all the wild conspiracy theory shit that’s happening around them, and he likely will not lose her the way he lost Mia.

But you ? You’re devastatingly human.

He also can’t bear the thought of spreading his monstrosity to you. You’re a good person, a light in the darkness really, and you deserve so much better.

So he keeps his distance. Or pines from afar like a schoolboy with a crush on the popular kid, according to Rose. Which is hard to do when you keep coming around, asking how he’s doing, being friends with Rose outside of work.

So one day, when you come to the appartment with flowers and food and a warm smile, and it’s a bad day with the mold, and you put the flowers in a vase while Rose puts the food in the fridge, when you put the vase down on the table in front of him and he brushes tired fingers against the soft petals, only to see them wilt instantly, he swallows all the anger and hate and misery and tries to hide it all behind his hands. But you are here at his side, all gentle and caring and worried for him. You lay a careful hand on his shoulder, assuring him it’s okay, you’ll just buy more, joking that hey, maybe you’ll buy plastic ones next time.

And he bursts. Send the vase and the rotten flowers flying across the room, shouting at you not to touch him. You jump and take your hand back in fear, and god, that makes him feel even worse. He slumps in his chair, tired from all of it. « I’ll just rot you, too. » he says with tears in his voice.

« Ethan Winters. » you bite after a moment of silence.

« Oh shit, full government name. » quips Rose from the kitchen.

« You are not a monster. » you continue, still looking straight into his eyes. « In fact, you are probably the best man I have ever met. »

He doesn’t see any doubt, or fear, or hint of lying in your eyes. And despite himself, he starts sobbing. In an instant, your arms are around him and you are rubbing his back and petting his hair and laying soft kisses to his temple like you can’t help yourself.

And he knows he’s fucked, he can’t do this without you. He loves you.

Carlos Oliveira

He knows he’s attracted to you fairly early. He’s got a big heart, and to be quite honest, he has been wanting to be in a relationship. So he’s been looking around for that spark and you ? Oh, you’re everything.

But the world is going to shit and there’s much to be done so he doesn’t really get the opportunity to ask you out on a date. Because, yes, he wants to date you. Take the time to know you, to have all the relationship-defining conversations and everything. He wants love, and he isn’t going to waste his time or yours.

But during and in between missions and running away from living nightmares you two are getting close. And he likes what he gets to see.

When you tell him about your hobbies and interests outside of this hell, he loves the way you can’t seem to stop. And he loves the way you can’t seem to stop listening to him when he shares his.

When you talk about the people dear to you, he sees how much affection you have in you, and really, he wants to give it back to you.

When one day the topic of clothing styles come up, and you tell him about you wish you could dress every day, he can’t help but imagine you in the outfits you describe and sometimes he remembers that conversation in the most inappropriate ways and it starts haunting the back of his mind at the most inappropriate moments

He loves your sense of humor, and more than that he loves your laugh.

Lately he’s been loving your smell, and the way you say his name.

Yeah, okay, he’s getting sappy. But he still wants to do things right, and date you first. Besides, it’s still just attraction, nothing more, nothing less.

But then you don’t get paired up. And it’s okay, it’s just one mission, he’ll see you again.

By the time he comes back, you’re gone on your own mission. It’s okay, it happens.

But this back and forth lasts a month and he’s going insane. He can’t even catch you in between missions because when you’re free, he’s gone, and when he’s free, you’re gone. And he really fucking misses you. Is that how his cat feels when he leaves ? (Carlos is a cat man and you cannot convince me otherwise) Like the sun has set and won’t seem to come back up ? At this point he’d pay to see you smile on the other side of the street.

When you finally, finally come back to him, it’s like he can breathe again. And when you see him, there’s a barely contained happy bounce in your step as you approach him, smiling so wide you’d think he was holding the key to word peace.

The conversation starts a bit awkward, « long time no see », « how are you doing ? », but then you fumble with your bag and hand him something. « I got you this ! » you say, bouncing on your feet again.

He looks down and it’s the gaudiest, ugliest, most ridiculous Raccoon City magnet.

Forget dating. He’s marrying you.

Luis Serra

He’s flirting, you’re flirting back, the banter is easy and getting easier each day. He’s having fun talking to you, getting to know you, fighting alongside you, patching each other up. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s the exact dynamic he’s always wanted to find. You’re a good friend. Right ?

You’re usually together one on one, when your paths do cross. He loves that he gets you all to himself, that he can pry you open slowly, like a treasure chest. And he loves what he finds inside. The humor and the intelligence, the caring, the kindness, the humanity. You both have seen messed up stuff and it’s a welcome reminder that the whole world does not amount to these horrors.

He has started touching you, a hand on your arm, a strand of hair brushed out of your face, an arm slung around your shoulders as he flirts harmlessly, and you’ve been smiling and letting him do it, sometimes even touching him too (a friendly slap on the arm, fingers brushing at a bullet-graze on his clothes), when you both come across another person and, naturally, he flirts with them too.

And suddenly, it all stops.

You don’t touch anymore, you don’t flirt anymore, hell, you don’t even smile at him anymore, except in this awfully polite, hypocritical way that he hates. The contrast is so brutal that it almost gives him whiplash. But he’s a smart man, and he doesn’t take him long to realize what’s going on.

« Are you jealous ? » he asks in his usual flirty, amused tone, once the other person is out of earshot.

He knows he fucked up instantly, because you clench your teeth so hard the vein on your neck starts pulsing. Your eyes are ice cold when you look at him and answer : « I am not jealous. I just realized I was wrong. »

He feels like his heart fell out of his chest and he wants to throw up. You thought- You were- Oh god. Shit. Fuck. Yeah, he flirted with you because that’s his nature, but when you flirted back he thought you were just joking, matching his energy. Honestly, he didn’t even think about it, the fact that maybe you could catch feelings for him, because usually, people don’t. He’s good for a flirt and a lay but that’s it.

Except now, he does have to think about it. Because you were the closest thing he ever got to a friend, and because he actually really liked having you flirt back, the way it boosted his ego like no one else did before. And the way those tentative touches had him lightheaded, wanting to touch more.

Oh. Oh.

He wants to swear in spanish and english and a few other languages that he can barely speak. But instead he says : « I’m an idiot. » Because he is.

You look at him like you’re waiting for him to tell you something you don’t know, and, yeah, he probably deserves that. So, slowly, as if he’s approaching a feral cat, he takes your hand in his.

« You weren’t wrong. But would you believe me if I said that I hadn’t realized it until now ? »

You close your eyes and scrunch up your face to repress a laugh, but you can’t keep a smile. « Oh my god, » you answer, rubbing at your eyes in amused disbelief, « I do. You’re such an idiot. » you add after a beat.

« I am such an idiot, » he agrees, smiling and looking into your eyes, before bringing your hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Jack Krauser

Someone in the chain of command tells him you would be better suited for another team, providing proof with statistics and graphs and all that jazz, and all he says is : « Absolutely not. » before storming out of the room.

He looks cold and in control on the oustside but on the inside ? Oh, he wants to burn that person and their entire family, hell, their entire world alive, for even suggesting that you be under someone else’s command.

And even he knows that’s an overreaction on his part.

He hates it but he does have to wonder why. So he examines your interactions, your missions, the times you fought together, the times you fought against each other, the respect for you that grew and keeps growing still.

The way if anything were to happen to you, he would kill anyone in the room and then bring you back in fucked up RE appropriate ways, because truly, it’s not that he can’t do it without you, but he doesn’t want to.

He grits his teeth when the feeling mounts into the conscious part of his mind and when it hits, he gets so infuriated he crushes whatever is on hand. It’s not good, it’s a weakness, it’s a danger to his purpose.

But it doesn’t have to be. He could use you as added motivation. He could put you in the right place, at the right time, so that the danger posed to you will make him dangerously feral. He can use these feelings to his advantage.

Prepare to be put on the front lines a lot, girlie. And if you do get hurt, you will still be barked at, because it’s your own damn fault. He’s already weak enough for you. Don’t make him weaker.

Karl Heisenberg

He knows he’s an asshole and he knows he’s unhinged bordering on totally insane. An asshole, he always was, but he really blames the madness on Miranda and her experiments and being stuck in this goddamn valley for decades with what is basically a cult and its leaders. It’s like cabin-fever. He knows the only way he could regain sanity would be to get the fuck out, but he also knows that the winged freak would never let him, and that he would just allow her plague to grow if he ever did manage to leave, anyway. So he’s stuck here but every second makes him even madder and angrier, like a nuclear reactor getting closer and closer to explosion.

And he knows that makes him fight with you about stupid shit.

And he knew it was only a matter of time until one of those fights turned really ugly. Because he’s an asshole and he’s unhinged bordering on totally insane.

But he must have done something right because ever since he’s let you stay with him you’ve been growing more and more confident around him, and yes, that also means you’ve been butting heads more, and you haven’t been backing down. He loves that. He hates that. On good days it makes him laugh like a maniac, but on bad days, like today, it makes him absolutely enraged.

He knows he almost blew the entire factory up. He knows he almost killed all his monsters, the villagers, and you. And he knows you know it too. You saw him start turning into the real monster that’s constantly bubbling under his skin, saw his body and face contort into terrifying, inhuman shapes.

He doesn’t know if you ran away. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. Metal was already flying everywhere in a chaotic ballet and the entire factory was rumbling under the force of the power literally pushing at its walls, when he felt himself changing. He saw the panic in your eyes and caught himself, surrounded himself in a thick layer of junk, like a straight jacket, like a weighted blanket, clawed at his own face in the darkness, screamed his voice raw, and when the self-hatred finally passed, he made himself breathe to kill what was left of the rage. The only thing left now was guilt.

The claw marks had healed already, and he was back to his « human » appaearance. But he didn’t dare let his metal cocoon fall away yet. You probably had ran away, actually, a very normal reaction to mortal danger. And he probably wasn’t the same person anymore, in your eyes. Maybe he wasn’t even a person anymore. He had accepted the fact that he was a monster now long ago, and it was only a matter of time until you figured it out too.

He finally comes out of his cage and, yeah, you’re not here. A wise decision. He’s not even mad, really. Just... alone. And it hits him harder than he would have thought. And it also hits him that he fucking got attached. He thought he was too old and too fucked up to develop teenager crushes, goddammit.

He sits down on the nearest chair and lets all of the junk fall to the ground in a deafening cacophony. He used a lot of energy on his outburst and he’s so, so tired now. Thanks to Miranda’s curse, he knows he’ll be right back to his usual chaotic energy in a few hours, but right now he feels the exhaustion in his bones. He leans back on the chair and pulls his hat on his eyes to maybe take a nap, when footsteps echo outside of the room. He raises his chin just in time to see you come in, all straight back and clenched fists. He doesn’t say anything, torn between wonder at the fact that you’re still here, and wonder at the fact that you’re still alive in this valley if your survival instinct is that bad.

« Get up. » you say, your eyes wet and your jaw set. He adjusts his hat back and he does get up, because what the fuck, and you take his hands with trembling fingers and raise his arms a little and examine him like he’s a pickpocket and you’ve found your wallet missing.

But then you ask : « Are you okay ? » with a shaky voice. Oh, you’re really stupid, he thinks, because sweetheart, what are you doing, worrying for the monster who almost ate you up ? But something else stirs in the back of what’s left of his humanity, something soft and fragile, and really, he can’t bring himself to lie.

« I haven’t been okay in a long time. » he snorts derisively. And you fucking sniffle. And ask if you can hug him. He is honestly too stunned to do anything but open his arms for you, and he has to admit that when you snuggle against him, it feels nice. Human. Almost normal, even.

Your survival instinct is shit, he muses as he gives in to the tentation of hugging you back. He’ll just have to make up for it, he supposes. But he is not losing the one thing that makes him feel like less of a monster.

[wintermoonkisses]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

☆ SUMMARY: In which you decide to prank them by flinching each time they attempt to touch you.

⚠️ WARNINGS: fluff, slight angst, pettiness, paranoia, kisses, cuddles, implied nsfw, obsessive and possessive behaviour

☆ CHARACTERS: albert wesker, leon s. kennedy, chris redfield, jack krauser, carlos oliveira, luis navarro, hunk, karl heisenberg, zeno, ada wong, jill valentine, claire redfield

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

You have balls of iron to prank him like this

Wesker was not one for jokes so you were basically signing your death sentence

Out of everyone, he chose to be with you and it would definitely bother him but you just wanted to tease him to see his reaction

It didn’t help that you decided to prank him on one of his most stressful days 😱

The moment he reached out to you, your shoulders tense and you flinched away

His hand stopped midair immediately

His eyes behind his shades sharpened and he sneered

“Explain.” 

Suddenly it felt as if you were strapped in a chair within an interrogation room and Wesker held the whip 

You simply stated your skin was itchy and you pretended to scratch your back

He eyed your skin longingly and hungrily

Wesker wasn’t a fool

He continued to approach you, his hands just inches away from your skin when you would move away from him

Your body tensed and you flinched, inclining your entire existence away from him as if he was the biggest disease in the room 💀

Wesker assumed you were fooling around but it irked him deeply 

He was prepared to discipline you when work called him in

You flinched for real when he left the room as you heard him slam his fist on the other side 💔

Now you felt bad 

Wesker never showed emotions but this was something new

You hurt his feelings 🥺

Dinner came and you were having trouble reaching for the top shelf when his hand came into view and got it

Instead, he placed it even higher and he pinned you to the counter with hands on both of your sides

“Start talking.” He demanded

“It was a prank.” You admitted, “I just thought it’d be fun to tease you.”

A long silence came between you two

“So you find psychological warfare amusing?” Wesker mocked

You laughed out nervously until you gulped when he cornered you with his frame and snatched your face

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips

“Do that again…” He whispered against your mouth dangerously, “I’ll make you regret it.”

Too bad for you, his mind was already made up

That night as you were getting ready for bed, he threw you on top of the sheets and pinned you there as he kissed you roughly while taking off your pajamas

He punished you the entire night 🫣

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐒. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

Leon always thought this world was rainbows and sunshines when he joined RPD, only to be hit with reality that evil does exist

He wouldn’t allow himself to be used and manipulated again as he viewed the world in a different way

He had lost faith and hope but the moment he met you, his life suddenly became better and he could see colour once more 💘

He swears he’ll do anything to protect you

You brought out the innocent and selfless side of him because of your sweetness and he wanted to keep it

He was busy and you wanted to throw a little prank on him to destress him

Except it did the complete opposite

Leon was devastated 😭

He didn’t know what he did wrong

It happened when he reached for your shoulder and you recoiled like an animal, your hands moving in front like a shield

He froze right away and his face was stunned

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” He apologized

He backs away

He starts overthinking everything and his mind began to spiral

This poor man was trying to find out what he did wrong so the best he could do was to keep his distance, though he kept looking at you from the couch

You didn’t look at him the whole time! 

“We’re good… right?” He asked slowly after 5 hours

You didn’t answer

Leon starts getting gentle… 

And desperate

He started asking permission for everything

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Can I sit closer?”

“Is this okay?”

You didn’t reply to any of it 💀

But you were slowly dying on the inside - your heart couldn’t take it anymore! 🥺

“Leon, I’m so sorry.” You turned around, “I was playing a prank on you.”

You hugged him right away and Leon’s jaw dropped with disbelief

But he hugged you back right away, placing kisses on your head and your jawline

“Don’t do that again.” He pleaded

You nodded and you placed a kiss upon his lips

His arms tightened as for your revenge, you’re tackled with endless cuddles

Clothes start to slowly disappear from both your bodies 😚

You’re not escaping him for the rest of the night

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

Chris Redfield always took his missions seriously

He lost so many friends and comrades along the way to the point where he didn’t really care about his happiness anymore

He had been through so much that his soul was hardened and unbreakable, until you crossed paths with him

With you, he felt happier and safer as well 🥰

He was very busy these days and you were trying to get his attention until Claire suggested you to do something 

It sounded mean but very tempting at the same time

“Hey…” Chris greeted you, his hand reaching out to stroke your hair

You flinched and your face shifted to a look of discomfort

You backed away

Chris noticed right away but he was more concerned than hurt

Who on earth hurt you? 

He’ll make them pay 😤

“Woah there.” He tried to comfort you but you avoided his hand once more

He felt awful 

“Did I scare you?” He asked softly

Now you felt awful

Chris became very patient despite being a physically affectionate person towards you

He was very touched starved as he yearned to feel your warmth and hold you in his arms but he held himself back

You needed space

He focused on showing his love in other ways

He’d bring you your favourite drink and snacks

He wiped your lips with a napkin

He stayed out of range but also not too far in case you hurt yourself

He places a blanket on you when you took a nap on the couch

Protective husband mode was on at maximum level and he’d do it as many times until you felt safe with him again 🥺

You were crumbling because Chris was so sweet

You were going to get Claire back

“It was a joke.” You finally broke and he gave you a death stare, “But in my defense, Claire was the one who told me to do it.”

He was silent and you got scared for real

“...You little shits.”

He started laughing, a loud and happy laugh, as he didn’t feel amused in a long time

You squeak when he grabs you and lifts you up effortlessly before he caught you in his warm bear hug

“Can you handle this?” He squeezed you tighter

You nodded as you snuggled into it and he gave a nice slap to your ass 😋

After sexy time, he held you tightly and never let you go for the rest of the night

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑

He was probably the most terrifying one out of all of them

You might as well say bye-bye to this world 🤪

He was rough, ruthless, and he always marked you as his but at the same time, it was clear he was entirely devoted and in love with you

You made a small prayer in your head before you decided to continue with your prank

Jack was stressed and he reached out towards you, hoping for some quality time together

However, you flinched from him and jumped a few feet back away from him

He took it personally 💀

His expression hardens

“...What the fuck was that?” He asked you with venom

He chased after you but you rushed off, making sure there was a good distance between you two

He catches up easily and he reached out towards you but you slapped his hand away 🫢

Your behaviour was rubbing him the wrong way and he’s not going to be soft about it

He started thinking someone had threatened you or planted fear in your head and his protective instincts spiked up hard

The more you avoided his touch, the more visibly irritated he got - not at you, but at the situation

He didn’t like to show weakness but he had no choice

“You’re scared of me now?”

You expected him to yell at you but his voice came out quieter than expected

And that finally broke you

Because behind his strong facade and all that arrogance and intimidation, he’s genuinely hurt 😩

“Oh baby, it was just a prank.” You confessed

He blinks

He continues to blink

Then he scoffed at you

“Jackass.” He muttered underneath his breath

In a single second, he grabbed your arm and yanked you into his chest, his arms holding you so tightly

He was secretly relieved but he wanted more

“You better start apologizing.” He demanded

You giggled and peppered his cheeks with kisses, before moving to his lips

He kissed you back but he was still not satisfied

“Cheap tactic.” He mumbled against your lips

His teeth traveled down your jawline and found your neck, biting into it, causing you to yelp

His hands found your shirt and he yanked it off harshly as he shot you a hungry look

“Get down on your knees.” 😜

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀

Carlos was usually the one making you laugh and you always crumbled with his jokes

He lit up your entire world until a lightbulb lit up in your head and you wanted to tease him back

You also have game as well and you were excited to see his reaction

Carlos was SO offended

Not angry offended

Puppy offended 🐶

It happened when he made you laugh and he reached out to hold your hand, but you pulled it away before he could take it

He was confused and he tried to touch you once more but you flinched harshly, your eyes going wide to add more to the effect

He froze and made the most saddest expression you’ve ever seen 😔

Ouch

He was naturally touchy, flirty, and affectionate and being forced to hold himself back, it was painful

He was being dramatic but it still shot a dagger into your heart

“So you’re okay with a Carlos-less world?” He asked you

He started to be very awkward on keeping hands to himself

No arm around your shoulders, no playful nudges, no kisses

He even thought his hands were dirty!

This poor bloke washed his hands at least 50 times that day within two hours 💀

You were trying to keep up the act until you accidentally made eye-contact with him

He was looking at you and fidgeting around, almost as if he wants to lunge at you but is forcing himself not to

You were a terrible person 😡

“Carlos, honey…” You turned to him, “It’s just a prank. I’m only messing with you.”

The moment you said that, he gasped dramatically 

He launched himself off the couch and immediately held you

“BABY.” He called you with adoration

You laughed out loud as he kissed your entire face, before moving down to worship your body as his hair tickled your skin

“I was suffering!” He cried out, “I thought you stopped liking me!”

He kissed you deeply

“I thought you were going to dump me!”

“I wanted to cry!” 🥺

He really did

You apologized and he wrapped around your body completely and somehow became even more clingier than before

Nonstop cuddles, cheek kisses, and of course… his most favourite-

Making you his the entire night

𝐋𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎

This flirty boy was going to be the death of you the moment you decided to play this cruel prank on him

Luis’ face lit up when he saw you jump down from above and he immediately opened his arms to hold you

Except you gave him a flinch

You turned your head and backed away from him, as if he was the bane of your existence 💀

He noticed right away but didn’t think too much of it

He thought it was cute that you’re teasing him

“Ay, cariño, am I really that scary?” He wiggled his eyebrows before he tried to touch you again

You do it again

And again

The humour fades each time as the air around you two slowly turned cold 

Luis was naturally affectionate - always touching your waist when he passes by, brushing your hair out when it gets messing, and kissing your knuckles since you’re always working so hard

Having you avoid him like the plague hit him like a truck 🫠

The final time he reached for you, you flinched and he stops midair

“Oh.”

He choked out that word and you felt your heart hurt right away

How could you do this to him?

Luis tries to smile - he really does

Except his smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it lost his usual flare

His smile disappears all at once 😞

He starts to keep his distance in subtle ways - leaning against the opposite counter beside you, offering you things without touching you, and forcing his hands into his pocket so he won't accidentally reach for you

His flirtiness was finally gone

“Did I do something wrong?” He whined, “I would never hurt you, yes? Talk to me, princess.”

“I miss you.”

He sounded so sincere and you broke character

“Luis, it was simply a prank.” You told him, “I miss you too. That was too cruel.”

Luis blinks as he stared at you as he couldn’t believe it

He sighs dramatically and pulls you against him, hard

“You nearly killed me, love.” He sighed, “You are cruel, beautiful, yes… but very cruel. You’ll break a thousand men’s hearts.”

You laugh before you reach up to him and kissed him passionately

He held you tightly against him as he won’t let you escape anytime soon

Now every time you touch him, he’ll fake-gasp dramatically 🙄

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐊

This man is defined by his cold, detached, and utterly professional personality but it all came crashing down when he met you

He usually has no regard for anyone, not even his own teammates but if someone were to look at you the wrong way, he’d eliminate them

Everytime he’s around you, he lets his walls down

So it’s like a betrayal to him once you decided to prank him

His gloved hand reached for your head and instead of you leaning towards him, you backed away

A teensy bit because a part of you felt bad 😭

But he still noticed

Years of surviving impossible situations made him an excellent observer to one’s reaction, including years

The room goes silent

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

His voice was low behind his mask but there was a roughness to it 🫣

You started to panic

“It’s just a joke.” You rambled quickly, “I didn’t mean it.”

Still, Hunk was staring at you with such intensity that it made you feel pinned down in place without him even touching you

He reached up once more - this time much slower in case you’re scared 🥺

His fingers brush your cheek with care, as if you’re a fragile being despite the fact he knows you’re not

You shivered when his thumb drags lightly along your skin

“You don’t flinch around anyone else.” He notes 

He wasn’t accusing you and that somehow sounds worse

“I really am just teasing you.” You told him once more, “I shouldn’t have done it. It was stupid and ridiculous.”

He gave out a humourless chuckle 💀

“...You’re SO lucky I like you.”

Yeah, you really were or else you’d be laying in a puddle of your own blood now 🥴

Hunk somehow becomes more clingier, even if he denies it

Everytime you walk passed him, you’d feel his hand upon the curve of your back

He’d pull you close to his chest while sitting

He’d even tilt your chin up so you’re looking directly at him

One night, he removes his glove and his hand dived underneath your shirt, stroking your skin

You jolted at that sensation but he quickly brushed his knuckles over your cheek

“No more flinching.” He says quietly

You shivered and nodded

It was both an order and confession

𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆

This brilliant, charismatic, and sadistic engineer fell for your charm completely

You were the one person he wanted to be with forever and you were the light in his life, keeping him sane despite his deep disdain for Miranda

He was a very good lover and you were starting to regret everything

Heisenberg reached over to grab your waist and you jerked back as if you’re startled

You even stumbled and fell to the ground, your hip hitting the side of the table and you knew a new bruise was forming on your skin

Heisenberg freezes right away and he quickly went over to help you

You denied his help 💀

You still needed to be in character!

“Woah, sweetheart, you alright? What the hell was that?” He asked you worriedly

Did he upset you?

He made sure to remember all the important dates 

He also made sure to not eat the last piece of cake 👏🏻

The way you’re looking and acting towards him bothered him genuinely and his expression shifts to something serious

You could feel your act faltering

“Hey,” He says softly, “I’d never put my hands on you like that.”

Now you felt like the biggest scumbag on earth

“Oh honey, I was just pranking you.” You slowly got up, wincing.

You regretted it immensely as not only did you hurt him, you’re also going to have to deal with a bruise for a week

Serves you right 😗

Heisenberg grabs you right away and he pulled you into his chest

His hand reached to slowly massage your forming bruise, in which you let out a sweet sound

His beard brushes your forehead and you felt safe the moment his scruffy chin landed on your head

“Got me over here having a heart attack.” He muttered, “I thought I was going to have to kill someone for you, sweetheart.”

You held him tighter

His hand was rubbing circles around your skin when he suddenly pinched it, causing you to yelp

“Don’t do that again.” He whispered into your ear, his voice changing, “Or else your whole body will be covered in bruises.”

You nodded

But now he just had a new idea with what to do with you next as he threw you onto the couch and went on top of you

His hand landed on your thigh and he squeezed it, making you blush

“Now sweetheart, that’s a good look on your face.” He leaned in closer

“We’re going to have a great time together.” ♥️

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐎

Out of everyone, he reacted the quietest and it somehow makes it hit harder

Mystery was the best way to describe him and despite being in a relationship with him, there were still many things you didn’t know about him

But a part of you was curious so you thought it’d be fun to prank him since he’s always so serious

You thought wrong 💀

Zeno reached out to take your hand but you flinched away from his touch

His expression barely changes but his hand retracts immediately

He looks at you up and down, before he circled around you, trying to assess if there was anything wrong with you

He also admired your ass too- 😉

“You dislike my touch?” He asked out slowly

His voice was calm which made you felt awful right away

Zeno doesn’t take things lightly as every action calls for his utmost attention, especially when it comes from you

He knew everything about you, memorized your habits, your moods, the way your breathing changes, and how your body melts against his

So this reaction of yours unsettles him deeply

“It’s nothing.” You waved it off, but he keeps analyzing you

“You recoiled before thinking.” He blew out a smoke, “That reaction is instinctive.”

Oh no

He’s losing his mind internally

He’s losing his composure now

“It’s just a prank.” You finally confessed, feeling terrible, “It’s supposed to be funny but I guess I went too far. Forgive me.”

He goes completely still before he steps closer

One hand gently cups the side of your neck

“You enjoy provoking me.”

His thumb strokes beneath your jaw while he held your gaze, as you felt your stomach flip many times

“I do not appreciate jokes like that.” He spat

Despite his harsh voice, there’s hurt beneath it

You felt terrible as you quickly brought your arms around him

Zeno somehow becomes even more possessive after that

Every single time he’s with you, he has to make sure his hand is touching a part of your body

Fingers holding yours, hands on your thigh, arm around your waist, you leaning against his shoulder… everything 🤭

When it comes to sexy time, this man goes all out, making you know who you belong to and to put you in place 

When you curled up against him in bed, he pressed a kiss on your forehead

“Next time you want my attention, ask for it directly.” 

𝐀𝐃𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐆

Ada was an expert at playing with one’s emotions as one second, she was head heels over for you, and the next, you were some random pet she decided to toy with

You didn’t know what her true intentions were and honestly, you were getting kind of sick of it

It was payback time 😏

She was supposed to meet you tonight and of course, she’s late as always

Too bad for her you weren’t going to be too nice tonight

“I’m sorry I’m late. Work caught me.” Ada stated as she walked into the room

She sat down next to you but you made no response to answer her

“Let me make it up to you.” She whispered huskily

She reached up to hold you but you backed away

She noticed but she pretended she didn’t as she tried once more but you reacted more violently this time, flinching before standing up to walk away

She didn’t show it but her heart dropped 

She’s spiraling in endless circles 😶‍🌫️

Ada thought she wouldn’t be too emotionally invested in you but the way you recoiled from her touch hits deeper than she’d like to admit

But she didn’t break

“Silence treatment, huh?” She crossed her arms, “Fine by me.”

Though she’s watching you like a hawk

You felt terrible but Ada felt as if her entire world was breaking down

She sighed and for once, she decided to confront you about her true feelings towards you and that you were someone important to her

“Look…” She knelt down beside you, “If this is about our thing, I do take it seriously, (Name). I think of you a lot even though it doesn’t seem this way.”

“I care about you.” 🥺

She wanted to hold your hand but she knew you were processing her words

You felt more terrible

You gave in

“It’s a prank.” You told her finally, “I’m just teasing you, Ada.”

She blinked and raised one eyebrow

“You care about me?” You added another question

If this was your prank, it was a genius prank 😈

“You are so insufferable." She gave a frustrated grunt but for the first time, you saw her cheeks turning red

“I knew it was a prank.” Ada then added

She did not

But she liked the feeling of always being ten steps ahead of you

She took a finger under your chin and lifted your head

“Careful now, don’t think you’re off the hook.” She muttered softly 🤭

With that, she kissed you deeply

𝐉𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄

Jill was basically your partner in crime and you two were inseparable 

When S.T.A.R.S. fell and Chris going to Europe and Barry moving to Canada, Jill and you somehow became even closer if that was possible

She loved teasing you and you wanted to do it back to her and you finally thought of something

Jill reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched 🫢

She stopped for a second and she thought she miss-saw things

She tried again and you flinched once more, moving away from her

Jill reacted with immediate concern and her face softens

“Oh… hey, hey.” She tried to comfort you, “It’s okay.”

Jill gave you space instantly but she made it known she was still emotionally close to you, as she watched you carefully from behind

Your reactions stunned her and she couldn’t help but blame herself, as the only reason why you were acting like this was because she did something wrong

Though she didn’t openly show it

“Did something happen?” She asked softly.

You shook her head

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No response

Jill took a deep breath before she asked the question she was dreading

“Do you want me to stop touching you?”

“You want to get away from me?” 😭

Now the guilt was eating you up because Jill was so understanding and kind

Despite your silence, she'd still take care of you

Blankets, tea, snacks, and she even went out to purchase your favourite book that you were hoping to buy

You couldn’t take it anymore

“Jill, I’m so sorry. It’s only a prank.” You broke your facade and stared at her

Jill’s face goes from worried to offended in less than a second 

Her jaw dropped

“You were messing with me?”

You nodded with shame

She burst out laughing as the moment she did, her annoyance disappeared

“Thank goodness. I thought my face scared you off or something.”

She pulls you into a hug and you gladly returned it, apologizing to her over and over again

She gave you a squeeze

“You’re lucky I love you.” 🥰

Just to reassure herself, she placed a bunch of kisses on your forehead, fearing that she’d lose you for good

Don’t do that to her again 😡

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

Claire and yourself were forming a close bond faster than ever and it was only about time when one of you confessed your feeling to each other

It was a new relationship and there was so many excitement and possibilities of you two together for the future

Until you decided to play dirty 😏

Claire really wanted to kiss you since you guys have been together for some time now but the reaction she got was not the one she wanted

You flinched and gasped, making Claire stopped

She panicked right away, thinking she broke your trust and boundaries 🥺

She should’ve asked first!

“I’m so sorry - was that too sudden?” She asked you

She became very cautious afterwards, trying to not drive you away and it was killing her on the inside

You felt awful because you also wanted to kiss her but at the same time, you didn’t want this prank to stop

Claire was a very warm person and now seeing her sad face genuinely upset you

You started to reach out for her on instinct but you pulled back

She noticed

“Now you’re okay?” She asked suspiciously

You felt awful 😰

“It’s just a prank, Claire.” You assured her right away, “I didn’t mean it before. I just wanted to mess with you and I took it too far”

Claire stared at you with a betrayed expression

“You are SO mean.” She sighed

But she tackles you into a hug

“I was literally going to piss my pants.” Claire breathed into your neck

You both end up laughing and you two finally share a deep kiss

The moment she pulled away, she smirked

“You’re buying my food as emotional compensation.” She cackled

She began to list other things

“And cuddles.”

“And extra kisses.”

You couldn’t help but give in and agree as you guys went to the nearest grocery store to stack on Claire’s favourite snacks

She suffered for your amusement 💃

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

☆ Hey everyone! I wanted to post something sooner but I didn't have the chance because of my schedule. I just want to say thank you so much for over 1,000 followers! I really wanted to try this trope and I haven't made hcs for RE characters yet so here it is. Forgive me if some characters are OFC, I haven't played most of the games. The only character I know with my eyes closed is Wesker-

[arcadiawebbi]

Ooh! Stupid idea but here I am! What would be the re guys’ reaction to their gf who’s cannot control her face. The guys say a joke, they’ll know if she liked it or not. Her face is a giveaway when she lies that she didn’t eat the last slice of cake. If shes disgusted by something, without a doubt they’ll be able to see it.

How RE Men React to Having a Girlfriend Who Cannot Control Her Expressions 🤨

Characters Featured: Chris Redfield, Leon Kennedy, Luis Serra, Jack Krauser, Carlos Oliveira, Jake Muller, Albert Wesker, Warning(s)/Tags: None ;)

A/N: NO IDEAS ARE STUPID ROUND HERE, PARTNA! I had a lot of fun with this! Now if I left out a man you really wanted to see, let me know and I'll make a part two <3

-----------------

Chris Redfield

he looks like such a dork in this gif help-

Now this man with a girlfriend who absolutely, for the life of her, could not control her expressions? Oh he's a little thrown off at first

"Hey do you this this shirt looks good on me?"

"Yes."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Whole time you're looking at him like 😕

But once he gets used to it? Oh, this man is having a BLAST until he's not. You're out in public and someone next to you says something outrageous? You are side-eyeing the FUCK out of that stranger, mind you that stranger is bigger than CHRIS.

Absolutely not.

This man will have both hands on your head like "Please, I can't go to jail today for murder."

Now with other matters like trying to play detective on who ate his leftovers? That's where it gets fun again.

"Did you eat my ribs?"

"No..." yet you're looking at him like you've already been sentenced to thirty years in Pelican Bay for minor theft

Overall, Chris enjoys it <3

-----------------

Leon Kennedy

OH trust me when I say ALL versions of Leon are enjoying this little quirk of yours but let's go one by one with all the versions of him

So RE2 Leon? That man is blissfully confused when you tell him one thing but your face tells him another.

"Did you like it? I tried out a new recipe."

"I loved it..." SISTA YOU DID NOT LIKE IT

Leon raises an eyebrow, "Why do you look like you're about to file charges against me?"

"Maybe we should leave the cooking to me, my love."

"Oh 😭."

Now RE4 + Death Island Leon? They catch on quickly and they think your little expressions are adorable and hilarious to the point where they just say shit to get you to make a face

"Babe, doesn't her dress look so nice?"

Cue you side-eyeing him like be so for real, that neon green dress looks HIDEOUS.

But the moment you're in public and suddenly you're making a face at a man who could easily give Leon a hard time, it's suddenly not so funny.

"Sweetheart, honey, baby doll, love of my life, PLEASE-"

But for our older versions of Leon who are a bit more worn down by life like Vendetta, RE9, and RE6 Leon? They enjoy it but not on the same level as our other versions like at most, they huff with amusement or give you a chuckle.

"What's with the face, baby?"

"I'm not making a face."

"Yes you are."

Now if you were to happen to make a face at the wrong individual and said individual tried to fight you? Oh Leon is stepping in front of you without hesitation,

"Try it." Hand is on the gun tucked in the waistband of his pants, it does not MATTER if that individual is so horrendously offended or twice his size- he will fight.

-----------------

Luis Serra

This man is having a BLAST, he is constantly saying shit or asking stupid questions just to see you make a face like no mercy whatsoever,

Now if you happen to piss someone off with your face, Luis is definitely going to stand up for you like "Now c'mon, she can't control it."

But if the offended individual is built like Victor Gideon?? Oh hell no, Luis is FIGHTING for his life to get you to look anywhere but at that man

"Mi amor, please don't, por favor control your face, I know you cannot but TRY"

-----------------

Jack Krauser

This man will deadass look at you and say "What's wrong with your face?" because why are you looking at him like he's grown three heads just because you came home and discovered he did not in fact take the chicken out the freezer

"Jack."

"What??"

"Did you thaw out the chicken?"

"No." Blunt, efficient as usual

"Okay."

You say okay but your face is screaming that you want to cuss him out and Krauser definitely notices,

"You sure?"

"Yeah." No.

Lowkey kinda unsettles Krauser because you say one thing but your face means another ESPECIALLY if you two are arguing and you give him that bs like "Y'know what, it's fine. It's not a big deal."

He's probably the only one on this list who'd try to teach you how to school your expressions to be fair, but if someone was giving you a hard time because of it? Oh, he's throwing hands no doubt.

-----------------

Carlos Oliveira

This man's reaction is a solid mix of Luis and Chris's like he is thrown off a little at first but he gets used to it a helluva lot quickly than Chris does,

And he will say some out of pocket things just to see what faces you'd make at him.

But it's very much not funny when you two are having an argument and then you hit me with the "It's fine" when your face tells him you're obviously not.

"Coração, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Obviously it is because you're looking at me like I'm the most wanted man alive!"

Now if you were to get in trouble because of your lack of control, he'd step up for you no matter what. Someone starts yelling at you? He's already decided he can go to jail for 24 hours.

-----------------

Jake Muller

Look at those EYES, RAHHHHHHH-

Okay, now Jake? This man will see your expressions and be like "what the fuck is wrong with your face?" and once it clicks you have ZERO control over it? He's laughing because you literally out yourself with your eyes alone.

And he 100% uses it to his advantage, leftovers gone? He's going straight to you and asking if you've seen it.

You say no but have that look in your eyes?

"Babe. You literally had your own box in the fridge."

"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"

"YOUR FACE TELLS ME EVERYTHING!"

And this man will 1000% throw down if someone tries to give you shit over it because as we know he is very protective and does not hesitate to resort to violence if he feels like his loved ones are threatened

-----------------

Albert Wesker

This man is oh so very amused by your lack of control over your expressions, he sees it as a genetic anomaly or some scientific bullshit like that,

Now he doesn't pay much attention to it like the others do, it just something he'd notice and note for later like when he thinks you're lying or something like that.

"My dear, who were you just on the phone with?"

"No one."

Turns his head and sees that face, oh it was definitely someone.

"Phone. Now."

You cannot tell me this man does not run a tight ship!!

[xozoldyck]

Car Troubles? RE Men Don't Take Money as Payment

Having car troubles? Have no fear, your Resident Evil boyfriend is here! Teehee~

Just know, your partner expects a favour in return. It’s an eye for an eye, right?

​CW: Heavy NSFW content; Smut (18+), MDNI

C: fem!Reader, established relationship

Characters: Chris Redfield, The Merchant, Leon Kennedy, Jack Krauser, Piers Nivans, Luis Serra, Jake Muller, Carlos Oliveira

​--------------------------------------------------------

​Chris Redfield

He’s rolling out from under your car on his creeper, forearms lightly coated in a sheen layer of sweat. Who knew the garage could get so hot?

While making some final adjustments, the bottom of his shirt bunches up slightly, revealing a sliver of his hardened abdomen, perfectly adorned with a dark-coloured happy trail. Suddenly, the rise and fall of his chest becomes painfully apparent to you, despite his own preoccupation with your vehicle.  

“Your engines up and running again,” he’ll finally say, satisfied with his own work. He catches your eye in an escape from his body to meet him.

The mood shifts instantly when Chris doesn’t reposition his shirt when he gets up, but rather closes the distance between you two. “Quite the well rounded man you are,” you say to him teasingly.

“Seems you’re already thinking about how to repay me,” Chris responded.

It takes all but two seconds for his dick to twitch, taking his trousers from loose to form-fitting. It’s a noticeable difference, the large bulge of his groin trapped behind a zipper, quite literally pulsating against its self-inflicted pressure.

Chris is already standing next to you in negative space, his length firmly pressing against your navel. The only barrier is each of your clothes.

His hands leave grease marks on your shirt as he pulls you closer to him, all while you gently palm his dick, his head slumped over your shoulder. He’s already whispering incoherently.

He walks you backwards, compressing you against the garage wall under his large frame, the prowess of his body completely shielding yours.

Releasing him from his boxers, the weight of his cock feels heavy in your hand. But toying with the pre that fervently built over his tip quickly catches the air in his throat. You’ll easily be able to pump his full length, your hands slick from his own secretions. Instinctively, he’ll begin to thrust his hips into your palm, his grip tightening against the small of your back when he’s close.    

He finishes quickly on your shirt, his eyes completely locked with yours as he towers over you. His breath is hot as he pants fractions away from your lips.

“That’s enough payment for two car fixings, ya know?” You were just egging him on now.

The Merchant

Just looking at your car gets him thinking about how much he could sell each part for.

BUT! He did arrive to your aid, the wonderful partner he is, so he suppresses any thoughts of vulture work he may have conjured (but the shiny engine still calls his name).

He would dig around in his bottomless coat pockets for something useful, dropping a few herbs or stray bullets on your driveway. Pulling out a couple of unidentifiable metallic pieces, he lifts the hood of your vehicle and starts fiddling with the mechanics.

You’d silently hover over his shoulders behind him, watching him skillfully open certain parts of your engine that you didn’t even know came undone.

But, to your good fortune, the small distance between you and him was palpable enough that he became very aware of your existence.

“You know, you’ve been driving around bone dry here, mate,” he’d say in his raspy voice, motioning to your empty oil tank that just produced a ridiculously clean dripstick.

It was the perfect invitation to harvest something lewd out of his comment, “Bone dry? Me?” You’d say, wrapping your arms around him dangerously close to his groin, yet still daring to venture lower.

You cup his dick every so slightly, only to find he’s already pumping blood down south. You maneuver his cloak just enough to release him, his dick getting heavier in your hand by the second. His steps into you, his back compressed against your chest, while his hips buck forward.

“Ah, you’re no stranger to me, love,” he’ll breathe out with his head leaned back on your shoulder. The hood of your car acts as a perfect veil to the racy behaviour going on just behind.

As you quicken the pace, the head of his dick grows distinctly pink, accompanied by the Marchant’s deep moans. He’s loud, he’s vulgar, and he’s not going to hold himself back from letting you know that he’s having a good time. Hot ropes spurt out from his tip from convulsions so strong you could feel him pulsating in your hand.

“You got anything else in the house you want me to fix up for ya?” He hasn’t even come down from his high, yet he's itching for another bargain.

Leon Kennedy

It’s pushing 10 p.m. when you realize your car isn’t starting for your late-night ice cream run. Enter Leon S. Kennedy. He’s quick to pick up the phone and quick to arrive. “If we fix this now, it won’t be a problem in the morning, right? One less thing to worry about,” He’ll say to you with utmost sincerity and reassurance. He wants you to know you’re not exploiting him; he wants to help you (in any way).

After concluding that the blinking light in your car was actually something that needed to be looked into, Leon swept himself beneath your vehicle, leaving only his legs visible in your garage.

“I really owe you one, Leon. Truly,” you say to him, despite the fact that it seems you’re only speaking to two limbs at the moment. He brushes off your remorse, keeping his hands busy with the complexities of a car’s underbelly. But there’s something about the way his legs slightly shift when he repositions his grip. Or the way one knee gets propped up when a bolt is especially tight.  

It’s instinctive, your movement towards him. All you did was sit on his lap while his upper half was hidden beneath the car. Leon briefly pauses at the unexpected contact, but continues working, as if curious to see how bold you get.

You innocently trace your fingers against his belt buckle, toying with the lower hem of his shirt, too. You could’ve sworn you heard his breath hitch from under your car. But all suspicions were confirmed when you felt Leon’s dick grow hard beneath you. Slowly, you began working your hips, gently moving yourself forwards and backwards against him. “I’m really grateful for your service, honey, coming out here at this hour just for me?”

It was as if your voice was his final motivation, as he pushed himself out from beneath the car, revealing the rest of his body to you. In one swift motion, Leon flipped you onto your back, lining your hips up with his. “The car's going to become a morning problem, isn’t it?” Leon says, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

With great familiarity, Leon removes your pants and frees himself from his own. Two fingers press into you, squelching from how wet you are. “All this? Just from sitting on me?” Leon would coax while curling his fingers inside of you. He’s pressing perfectly against your walls, leaning down to give his tongue purpose for your pussy, too.  

His right hand automatically clamps his own dick, pumping himself while eating you out. He’s moaning into you, the vibrations tickling your skin.

When climax hits both of you, the concrete floor is darkened from the sheer amount of liquid each of you produced. “We’ll have to hose this down,” Leon says.

“In the morning~” you reply. 

Jack Krauser

Don’t think he came prancing over to your call; you got a lecture for allowing your vehicle to reach this state, and then he told you to “figure it out”. Fast forward five minutes, and he calls you back, telling you not to go anywhere so he can “manage your problems” for you.

Turns out a tire change was needed after Krauser found a nail that punctured your back wheel. After a lot of lever work and putting together bolts and nuts, your car found itself whole again with its shiny new addition.

“You owe me for that tire, princess,” He says to you. His voice is almost condescending, but his eyes tell a different story. They’re dark, completely focused on you, in parallel with a predator before it ambushes its prey.

Bravery strikes you (after all, you are dating the Jack Krauser), so you challenge the brute before you. “Owe you? Autowork is simply within your duties, Major.” Boy, have you done it now! Being in an authoritative position for so long hasn’t made bending to order an easy feat for Krauser. But somehow, the little confound is you.

Undoubtedly, he's taking you over the car hood. Your chest is pressed, rather held down, against the metal as Krauser uses his other hand to cup your sex. He’s simultaneously rubbing his hardened cock against your ass, grinding his hips against you to produce satisfying friction solely on his end.

“You got any more smart comments left in you?” He’d bark out before releasing himself from his pants. He won’t fuck you. You don’t deserve it. Rather, he’ll pull your pants down, leaving you in your underwear, and slide himself between your closed legs. You’ll be throbbing for him to fill you, but that's not on his radar.

His length furiously rubs against your clothed clit, leaving you only able to beg him for more. To feel him stretch you out. Seeing you babbling and so submissive burns a fire in him, so his compliance is not for you, but just to wreck you further.

Krauser will shift his angle instantly to fill you with his dick, collapsing his chest onto your back. His hips snap forward with utmost aggression, leaving your legs with no greater purpose than for decoration. It’s just that good.  

He’ll cum inside you. You’re left sensitive, raw, and unfinished. You didn’t forget you owed him for the car, did you?

Piers Nivans

You and Piers were out for a late summer drive one night when your engine sputtered, forcing the two of you to haul the vehicle to the side of the road. Looking under the hood, Piers quickly concluded that a couple of dirty spark plugs were blocking ignition. Nothing a little rag couldn’t temporarily fix. But provided that the car was literally just on, the engine needed to cool for a bit before handiwork could take place.

Getting back into the car, you mindlessly flipped through the radio stations, trying to find something good to pass the time. It hadn’t yet become clear to you that Piers let his eyes wander a little too far across your bare skin. The summer heat caused a light sweat to break on you, tiny beads binding your shirt to your skin.

If anything, his mind needed a good cleaning instead of your engine, as his own short circuit led him to feel hot in his groin. The gentle expansion of his dick slowly pressed against the restriction of his pants. Still, Piers didn’t look away.

“Like what you see there, Piers?” You say, breaking the silence. He chokes on his answer, trying to combat his slip in discipline. “Sorry, I just…You’re—sorry. You’re beautiful. You know that, of course.” He’s stumbling over his words as you watch his face grow red, but your eyes bring you to the bulge between his legs.  

“It’s not like we have anything better to do right now,” you say to him. Your voice is soft and velvety, leaving Piers more uncomfortable with how tight his pants were becoming. You get up from the passenger seat and make your way into his lap, straddling his waist with your legs. You slowly slide yourself up and down his hardened dick, before cupping Piers’ face in your hands. “Tell me what you want me to do,” you whisper in his ear, your tongue trailing against the lobe. Piers practically whimpers as he takes hold of your hips. He bucks himself against your pussy, both of you completely clothed.

He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue swirling against yours. Despite the physical barrier between you two, the friction Piers was producing was enough stimulation to have you moaning his name.

Piers pressed his head into your neck, licking the sweat that beaded on your skin. As his grip grew stronger against your thighs, the swelling between your legs reached its maximum, leaving your body in pulsating bursts. Piers quickly followed, driving his hips into you as if the clothing wasn’t present at all.

“The engine should be cool by now,” you say to him breathlessly.

“No, not yet.” Before you could question him, Piers relocated the two of you into the backseat, this time stripping the two of you entirely.

Sex first, car later. You guys had time to spare after all.

Luis Serra

Safe to say, he’s a doctor, not an engineer. If you entrusted your car to his hands, the initial problem would expand tenfold. What started as an engine issue would turn into improper steering alignment. Don’t ask how, Dr. Serra doesn’t know. But perhaps, secretly, he’s too vain to want grease smears on his expensive clothing. He’s got to look his best for you, of course.

“Ah, mi amor, I’ll accompany you to the autoshop. Won’t want anyone looking at you too long, eh?” And that’s exactly what Luis does. Your car spends its afternoon in auto repair, while you and Luis take a drive up to a secluded lake. “Just for the magnificent views,” Luis would tell you as if seclusion wasn’t his prime motivator.

While the water was truly beautiful, Luis’ attention was focused on you. His eyes were heavy with admiration and lust, watching the way the waves reflected light against your skin. “How are we going to pass the time, carino?” He’d say to you, his grin perfectly symmetrical.

It wouldn’t take long for you to notice the large bulge between his legs, as Luis was shifting incessantly in the driver's seat to relieve himself of some tension. “Just admire the view, honey,” you say, tauntingly. You pierce through Luis with your eyes, captivating him until he's unable to look away. “I’m admiring it,” Luis responds.  

Your hand would slowly travel up his thigh, trailing gently along his pants with your fingers. After what seemed to be an eternity to Luis, your hand presses against his hardened length, caressing his dick through his jeans. Luis’ eyes flutter for a moment before regaining his focus on you. Your eye contact is unwavering.

Unbuckling his belt, you undo his fly and pull his dick from his boxers. The tip is saturated from his pre, allowing you to take your thumb around the head with little resistance. Luis’ lips part as his breath becomes staggered. “It’s perfect, mi amor.”

It’s not long before he’s blatantly bucking his hips up into your hand, moaning confidently with strings of Spanish spilling from his throat. The sound of wet skin becomes deafening as he grips your arm before releasing himself. Hot, thick ropes coat your hand, as well as his own jeans and shirt. Not once did he break his gaze from you.

“Seems you won’t be able to come in with me to pick up my car, huh?”

“You’ll just have to take my card in with you, make sure you tell them your boyfriend is paying.” And you did just that.

Jake Muller

This is literally the epitome of Megan Fox’s car scene from “Transformers”

You called Jake over to come take a look at everything, but now he’s observing you, arms crossed over his chest as you lift the hood of your car. “Your dripstick should have a yellow cap, it's to your left,” he’ll say to you without getting up from his looming position. “Yes, Sir!” You respond sarcastically.  

After fiddling around, you quickly come to realize this was a problem you could’ve solved yourself. Maybe accompanied by a quick Google search, too. “Well, you’ve been helpful,” you say to Jake, closing the hood of your car. But turning back, he was already pitching his tent. While you concentrated on restoring life to your vehicle, Jake’s mind had wandered elsewhere. How you leaned under the hood to reach for a valve, or maybe it was the sliver of skin that was made evident when your shirt rode up from all the reaching. Whatever it was, you got his blood pumping.

For the first time, Jake got up from his spot and made his way over to you. “I have been helpful in making sure nothing blew up on you. I want my woman in one piece,” he said, spreading your legs around his waist as he propped you up onto the front of the car. The heat from his groin pressed against your sex, leaving you soaked in seconds.

Jake was quick to capture your lips against his. The kiss is sloppy, wet, and hungry. Without any hesitation, his hands slipped beneath your shirt, cupping your breasts with expertise.  

You reached your hands down to release his dick from his pants, pumping its length a few times before Jake pushed your hands away. “Pretty eager, aren’t you?” He’s condescending, as if watching you fix a car didn’t just turn him on.

Taking hold of his cock, Jake ran the tip against your now bare pussy, sliding himself through your folds so as to lubricate himself.

With his own desperation getting the better of him, he pushes himself inside you, thrusting his hips relentlessly. At first, he’s all macho, telling you to take it. But when his own orgasm draws near, he’s holding your forehead against his, moaning your name as you clench around him. He won’t admit it, but it’s your finger he’s wrapped around.  

He’ll pull out, finishing on your stomach. The sight invites him to smear his mess around on you with his dick, his face flushed from how good you made him feel. “So I fix my car and you get to cum?” Your remark is snarky; you’re challenging him. 

Jake’s eyes lock with yours as he lowers himself to his knees, that cocky smirk permanently residing on his face. He buries his nose in your pussy, lapping up everything. Everyone wins.

Carlos Oliveira

The big, muscle man was very excited that you thought of him to come fix your car. It’s almost as if he were your boyfriend…Alas.

The two of you stood confused and unsure in front of the open car hood. Despite a car manual being in hand, you guys weren’t getting anywhere. “Here’s a weird fucking engine,” he’d say to you as if he’s come across many regular engines in his lifetime.

You sigh in defeat, deciding your best bet was to take it into the autoshop where an actual professional could diagnose the vehicle. Carlos, of course, protests this. “What kind of boyfriend am I to not be able to fix your car?” The pout is practically full-blown on his face. It’s as if the president directly handed him the annual “worst partner” award. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“You’re a great boyfriend, Carlos. You came here without second thought to help me,” you say, trying to get him out of his head. You make your way over to your sad golden retriever boyfriend, who has made himself comfortable in the back seat of the car.

Seeing him laid out, arms above his head with his hands over his face, sent bolts of energy through your body. The bottom of his shirt was just slightly disconnected from his pants, exposing his happy trail to you. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch it.

Carlos shot straight up, his head nearly budding into yours. “You know, good boyfriends deserve rewards,” you say to him, your lips just a fraction apart. With your hand now resting against his groin, you could feel him expanding beneath you. “And how do you plan on rewarding me?” Carlos questions, a huge smile spreading across his face. You get into the back seat with him, positioning yourself on your knees between his legs. Carlos is completely fixated on you, his hands gently brushing hair from your face.

You unbuckle his belt, pulling down his pants to expose his dick. The weight of it causes it to fall to one side, resting over his thigh. You watch it twitch with life.

Taking him in your mouth, you gently bob your head over the tip before you take him to the root. Carlos’ mouth falls agape as he watches himself disappear and reappear with indefinite lust. His tip kisses the back of your throat, but he lets you pace yourself, never interfering with your rhythm.

His hands wander fervently across your body, reaching for any inch of exposed skin for him to touch. His moans grow louder as you feel him begin to pulsate against your tongue. Before he finishes, he pulls you off of him, guiding your mouth to his. His hand clamps around his dick as he furiously pumps his length to release himself onto your shirt and some unlucky corner of the car.

Even though Carlos couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the vehicle, cleaning it was another thing. That he could do. You can now present him with the “best partner” award.

​--------------------------------------------------------

Requests open! <3

[f41ryb0nes]

⌖ unconventional methods ⌖

USSTRATCOM was hell, and brutal training made many recruits desperate to blow off steam. For you? That resulted in earning the title of barracks bunny.

But Leon? You liked him too much to reduce him to a notch on your belt, so you avoided him as much as you could since he caught on. Easier said than done being Krauser's top two recruits.

And Krauser? Nothing got past him. He knew exactly what had you both distracted, and he knew how to fix it.

ao3 ⌖ wc: 14.5k ⌖ insp part one of three’s company

tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader/Jack Krauser, m/f/m smut, cisfem!reader, mostly leon/reader but also spitroasting, repressed feelings, p in v, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, begging, orgasm denial, cockdrunkenness, overstimulation, hair pulling, voyeurism, krauser backseat gaming from the cuck chair, krauser is a sadist, boot kink, dacryphilia, corruption?, slapping, choking, knife play, extremely dubious consent/noncon (reader enjoys/is non-resistant but the dove is in hospice, you’ve been warned)

a/n: I would like to apologize to feminism and also to god. wc is like 80% spice

Personal lives are nonexistent for the poor souls who train at USSTRATCOM; in fact, they’re outright forbidden. But the human will is a stubborn thing, and experiencing constant, extreme conditions makes many recruits willing to do extreme things to fulfill any personal desire at all. Whether it be sneaking a book to their bunk or rubbing one out in the showers, there’s only one rule: don't get caught.

But none are more stubborn than you and Leon Kennedy. It's why you’d each survived the experiences that landed you in military custody in the first place. You’re too stubborn to fail, too hard-headed to die. At least that’s what Krauser always says; that that’s how you both so quickly rose to be his two most-promising recruits

But being on Major Krauser's pedestal came with crippling pressure to keep ahold of his fickle approval. Every trainee lives under his constant scrutiny, and no slip-up is too small to go unnoticed. And his attention, good or bad, isn't something anyone wants to have. 

Krauser stated his goal explicitly on the very first day of training— "I will break you" —and he makes good on that promise every single day. Those who he sees as weak are given extra drills and rounds in the fighting ring until they puke from overexertion, and those he believes in are pushed past their limits, resulting in the exact same end.

So to say that you’re stressed would be a laughable understatement, and you blow off steam in equal measure when you can. And since you’re constantly reduced to nothing but a primal instinct to survive, your vice of choice is somewhat primal as well.

You’re a classic barracks bunny. Sue you for having needs, but there are worse things to be. Besides, all female recruits are on a steady diet of birth control, so the number of risks are relatively few.

Leon, however, didn’t exactly seem to approve. He never brought it up, but you once locked eyes with him as you snuck out of the men’s barracks, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what you’d been doing there at such a late hour. He’d never make you feel bad about it, and you hardly had time to dwell on it in the scarce minutes of the day not spent training or sleeping, but you were sure you caught a sour look of disapproval in his eyes. 

You and Leon were once as close to friends as anyone could be in a hellscape like USSTRATCOM, so if you’re being honest, yeah, you’re a bit embarrassed that he’d caught you like that, and you haven’t been able to fight off the pangs of guilt you feel in his presence now. So although the topic has gone untouched, it's been a little tense between you ever since; just enough to notice but not enough to address. 

Besides, the kind of tension is the only thing that’s new between you and Leon. Tension sprouted within the very first days of group training and had grown ever since, and other people noticed, too. They all chalked it up to being competitive rivals, but it was anything but that. 

You have the fattest, most hopeless crush on him ever. Hell, you’re one bad day or BOW incident away from admitting that you’re in love.

That’s what makes you feel so guilty about the subtle glint of disappointment you keep finding in Leon's gaze now. Wondering what he thinks about you makes you beyond anxious, and you doubt you'll ever have the time or courage to find out.

There’s a reason you sneak off into nearly everyone's barracks but his, after all: you like him far too much to seek him out for a quick and dirty indulgence. Leon means far more to you than a notch on your belt, and you wouldn’t be able to stand it if you put yourself in a position where he categorized you as a hookup and nothing more.

But what cuts the most? Assuming he feels disappointed in you might be wishful thinking. He most likely thinks you’re a whore, that you’re reckless and irresponsible, probably shares all the typical judgments you know get whispered behind your back. 

Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hates you with how he’s been acting cold. 

So despite how much you want him and how often you imagine his face while someone else is balls-deep inside, you’ll never invite yourself into his room, much less admit your feelings for him. Plus, it’s kind of comforting to pretend sleeping around will help you get over your crush.

But your vice of choice has more consequences than those of emotional repression. You have to sacrifice a non-insignificant amount of your already scarce sleep hours to sneak around— and today, the exhaustion has finally caught up to you.

Your aim isn't as sharp, you don't anticipate the most obvious counterattacks, and you’re all-around slower on your feet. Careless mistakes that are totally unlike you, big and small. And no matter how hard you try to muster your strength and focus, dammit, you just can’t stop fucking up.

And none of it got past Major Krauser. That results in him keeping you late for after-hours training, but he isn't one to make a recruit suffer alone. Knowing you’ve dragged someone else into it is a part of the punishment in itself. 

So naturally, being the top two recruits, he chose Leon to join you. Just your fucking luck. 

That's how you find yourself here in the indoor ring somewhere after 23:00 hours, the air pushed from your lungs as you crash back-first onto the floor with a knife against your throat for the umpteenth time in a row. 

Krauser is seriously a sick bastard for making you spar with sharpened weapons, by the way, but that isn't breaking news. Just another "privilege" that comes with being his top recruits.

Leon never goes easy on you, either, but this feels different. Like he really does hate you and is taking his frustrations out with each painful blow to your body. The idea doesn't help you focus, and it isn't long before another miscalculation sends you back against the ground, staring at your tired eyes in the reflection of a knife that would've gouged them out in anyone else's hands. 

"You're tired. It’s pathetic. You think the enemy will care that you didn’t get your beauty sleep?”

“No, sir,” you reply through a wheeze as you try to recover your breathing. 

“Again.”

Despite your screaming muscles and the tiredness clouding your head, you stand up at once. You make yourself small as you shift your weight between your feet, poised to move wherever you’ll need to. As your combat knife shines in the gymnasium lights where you hold it in front of you, raised within your fist, you look Leon dead in the eyes and gear up for yet another fight. 

“Go!”

Leon beats you to the opening move. You dodge to the side. For some reason you put your fucking hand out to block him, and it does nothing to stop his knee from reeling straight into your gut. 

You cough and sputter but remain on your feet, stepping back to create a touch of distance to calculate your next move. But you’re more tired than ever now, and your body can’t keep up with your brain. 

As riled up as Leon is, the late hours are getting to him, too.

In a second, he came at you again with a strong left hook. Too stong for an opening blow, especially with a fist instead of his weapon. At last, you see an opening for attack. 

You use his momentum against him, pulling him through by the wrist. He twists sideways to stay upright, and needing to adjust your own balance, you send a sharp kick onto his back. Your eyes widen with adrenaline as it lands just as harshly as you intended; the upper hand finally seems within your reach. 

Or not. He hooks an arm around the back of your knee while your other leg is still mid-kick, and with nothing more than a shove to your chest, you’re on the ground again, pinned in the exact same position as before. 

“Absolutely disgraceful,” Krauser barks. “You’re distracted, rookie.”

You blink once at Leon who’s looking down at you with a similarly confused expression. Although you both fit the title, ‘rookie’ has long since been exclusively reserved for Leon. But you were the one who was called here tonight to be punished; why was Krauser drilling him?

Your knit brows turn to widened eyes as Leon attempts to rise but is stopped by a boot on his back. 

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy?”

It’s clearly a trap question, and the pet name is laced with anything but admiration. Leon purses his lips and opens them as he attempts to think of an acceptable answer, but he’s obviously at a loss. You wonder what sadistic plan Krauser has in store as he awaits Leon’s response, and you grow somewhat fearful for the younger man.

Though he speaks with a sure tone, Leon only manages a single word, like he thinks he can get around it by gathering more information first.

“Sir?”

Krauser adding weight to his stance on Leon’s back is all it takes to know it didn’t work.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No, sir,” you and Leon say in unison. 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Krauser spat in your direction. 

“Then tell me,” Krauser continued, his attention returning solely to Leon, “why you’re face-to-face with what’s distracting you, and you can’t tell me what it is. Do you think I haven’t noticed?” 

You get halfway through the thought of “noticed what?” before Krauser pushes Leon down further, so close that the wispy ends of his bangs brush against your cheekbones. You gulp against the knife that still hovers over your neck, but the sharpened edge doesn’t make you feel nearly as nervous as whatever the fuck is happening right now.

You’re used to being in close proximity with Leon in training, but this is entirely different. It’s intimate. Uncomfortably so. It makes your head spin too fast to think about what Krauser just implied.

Instead, your attention is preoccupied with avoiding Leon’s eyes like you’ve been doing for weeks now, but with him this close-range, he’s everywhere, so close that your eyes threaten to cross. You can see every pore on his nose, the moles that constellate his neck, the lines in his forehead where he’ll have wrinkles in ten or so years. 

God, he even looks good this up close and personal. Every detail makes your heart skip and your ears get hot, even in a nerve-racking situation like this. Even when you look away from his stupidly beautiful face, all you can see are his biceps straining as he holds himself over you, flexing against his shirt as he holds himself up against Krauser’s unyielding boot. 

Your adolescent anguish is cut short by Krauser’s attention returning to you.

“That’s why you’re so tired today, isn’t it? From being in this position?”

Oh. Oh no.

A cold wave shoots through you as you realize what all of this is really about. Of course word got around about your late-night escapades; you just didn’t think it’d find its way to Krauser unless he caught you in the act. You now know what a fool you were for ever thinking that.

Krauser and Leon are by far the last people you're ready to address it with, and Krauser just had to bring it up while he keeps you pinned inches beneath the latter. 

It has to be some kind of divine punishment. This is the absolute worst-case scenario. Far worse than you ever could've imagined. The only place to hide is behind the refuge of your eyelids, so you squeeze them tightly shut.

Krauser keeps on twisting the metaphorical knife with a devious laugh that rumbles in his chest.

“You’re awful quiet, rookie. Not gonna defend your lady’s honor? Or, don’t tell me… are you the only one she hasn’t fucked?” 

Your heartbeat turns into a war drum that threatens to beat through your ribs. You're sure Leon can feel it thrum in the air between you. You pray to god in all his mercy to open the ground and swallow you whole, but no such thing will happen.

Leon, however, is praying to a wrathful god to smite Krauser where he stands. He can’t handle it. The humiliation, the intentional offensiveness. The stunning accuracy. Being confronted with it in such a demeaning way. He could maybe take it on the chin if it'd only been about himself, but Leon has long since become protective of you, and he carries your degradation as if it's his own. It's the perfect setup to make him seethe, and Krauser pushes him further with every syllable.

“I asked you a question. Have you fucked her or not?”

Leon’s chest becomes thick with heat as his rage dials up to a fever pitch, nostrils flaring and knuckles whitening around the combat knife. It's hardly at your neck anymore, but you're keenly aware of it.

You're beyond uneasy, but you can’t do anything. You can’t move except to squirm, you don’t have a white flag to raise, and you don’t dare speak out of turn. Anything you say right now won’t be helpful anyway; you’re ultimately the reason you three are here, and any attempt to deescalate would absolutely be thrown right back in your face.

You scream internally to Leon as you see his anger dial up to ten, hoping he’s close enough that if your thoughts are simply loud enough they’ll be able to reach him.

Don’t put yourself on the line for me, you think over and over. But telepathy doesn’t happen to be a weapon in your arsenal, and Leon seldom possesses the ability to bite his tongue. So however reckless it might be, he tries to change the subject by steering it towards an argument.

“Go fuck yourself, sir.”

You wince as you prepare for Krauser to skin him alive, but to your surprise, he doesn’t take the bait. Leon avoiding the question is answer enough, so Krauser coolly clicks his tongue, and his level-headedness makes the situation all the more terrifying.

“Just as I thought. Is that why you threw all those haymakers? Want to keep pinning her down just to get a taste? You know damn well that won’t work on the field.”

It’s insane, the way Krauser can tie anything back to training, but his words hit right where he aimed them, and it’s Leon’s turn to be unable to face you as he tries to keep his cool. Tough work, since Krauser’s on a roll.

“She’s obviously easy; why haven’t you just asked her, Kennedy?”

Leon’s jaw sets tighter. 

“Afraid that she’d reject you?” 

Krauser hits a bullseye. It’s all too clear now that humiliation is Krauser’s goal, and neither of you can leave without it being shoved down your throats. Watching Leon reel between emotions is giving you secondhand whiplash, but it’s only a few seconds before he grits his teeth and lets go of his dignity. 

“Because I—” he swallows hard, “I like her, sir.”

The confession hits you like a battering ram, and for a moment, the room is so quiet your ears ring. 

He doesn’t hate you. He likes you. A part of you could cry you were so happy, but with the situation at hand, how could you possibly be content? It brings on a wave of emotions that surfaces all the ones you’d been shoving down for months.

Feelings like that are impossible to foster in a hellhole like this. Sleeping around is one thing, but romance? What could even come of it being mutual? For those reasons and many more, you’d accepted it being hopeless a long time ago. And now that Krauser knew— and had apparently set this all up because he’d known for a while— you were now sure that he’d brought you here just to murder your dreams in cold blood. 

So there you and Leon lay on top of each other, no warmth or sweetness about it, faced with each other as symbols of your failures to cope. All you can do is wait for Krauser to rip your hearts out and incinerate them so they’ll never distract you again.

“What a goddamn sweetheart,” Krauser tuts, shaking his head. “You’re too soft. And you’re letting it get in the way instead of taking the clear fucking solution.”

The air goes still as you brace for whatever twisted “solution” he might have in mind, mentally preparing to run drills until sunrise or engage in some sick psychological simulation where you’d come to hate each other. Either would be perfectly up Krauser’s alley.

You were once again a fool to think you could predict him. You never would have expected what happened next. 

He crushes his boot into Leon's lower back until his navel is fixed solidly against your center. Hissing at the sudden contact, Leon swiftly pushes away as much as he can, but it isn’t much; although you aren’t quite face-to-face anymore, the Major’s full bodyweight keeps Leon’s lower half trapped flush against you. 

Startled astonishment washes over your face as you realize what exactly it is you feel pressed against you: at some point during tonight’s training, Leon got hard. You hadn’t noticed, but Krauser apparently did. 

Oh my god you feel like an idiot. You were too distracted by your fucking feelings to notice that he was hard. What the actual fuck.

You’re trying not to panic. You’re exactly where you want to be, but it’s in the least conceivable scenario possible. You scan Leon’s face wildly to find some sort of confidence in him that you can hold onto, a muscle memory of the looks you’ve often exchanged to get through training, but he’s just as frantic as you are as he tries to stay still, to not move an inch against you. 

Leon is very keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t ask for this, haven’t said that it’s okay, and the shame he feels at his exposed arousal sits like a death grip around his neck. He has no reason to think you were even interested in him; you hadn’t said anything since whatever the fuck this is began— and if you didn’t want it, what could you even do about it? It felt like a noose around his neck, and Krauser kept dragging him by it, tightening the rope with each syllable he spoke. 

“Close encounters really do it for you, huh? You like holding a pretty girl down, feeling her struggle against your cock? Maybe you’re not such a boy scout; you’re more like me than you think.”

Any thoughts you had about his statement went in one ear and out the other as Krauser moves his heel to rut Leon back and forth against you, grinding his cock smoothly and firmly against your clothed cunt. You nearly choke at the electric current it sends rushing through your core.

Even though Leon isn’t moving on his own accord, even if the inner war he’s waging against himself is written all over his face, he’s pressed so staunchly against you that you feel every twitch of his cock as it grows harder. 

It shouldn’t send a rush of thrill through you, but it does.

You bite your lip as another ebb of downward pressure increases the friction and makes the feeling too bright to ignore. Just as Leon can’t help his body reacting to yours, you’re resistless to the way you unconsciously arch into him. 

“Don’t be so shy. Look at her, she likes it.”

That makes Leon finally look at you head-on, and your face floods with a blush so hot it burns, because it’s undeniably true. You did like it. It felt good. A mental hell alongside physical heaven, but heaven nonetheless.

His hips grind into your core again—shaky, but this time of his own volition— before he raggedly whispers, "Do you…? Do you want me?”

You struggle to keep the intensity of his gaze, but you know what he’s really asking for: the truth. You try to show as much surety as you can as you nod your head against the padded ground, sharing it like a lifeline.

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

Krauser interjects with an eye roll and his trademark condescension. “You’re still too goddamn soft. You still have a knife in your hand, for god’s sake, that’s all the permission you need.”

Twisted fucking bastard, Leon thinks, his grip tightening around the hilt of the blade where he holds it beside your head. He stares straight into your eyes with an intensity that says he isn’t readying it for you. Your gut churns all the same. 

Luckily for you both, the major moves on from it. His boot leaves Leon’s back and he shudders in relief, exhaling deeply as he’s able to part his body from yours. 

It’s a short-lived reprieve as a broad shadow falls from overhead. Krauser looms from above with menacing casualness, thumbs hooked in his belt loops as he cocks his head in amusement.

"Go on, then. Kiss her."

You freeze in place and watch Leon as you remain stuck under him, breathlessly waiting to see if he takes the opportunity, heart pounding as you wonder if he should. 

Leon hardly pauses. An order is an order, and he’s getting used to that, as unconventional as they may be. He huffs, leans in halfway, and then retracts another inch; knits his brows together and shakes his head, either deciding against it or shaking off his last bits of resistance. You couldn’t tell which, at least not until he suddenly closes the distance.

It's the gentlest kiss you've ever received. His plush and impassioned lips skim lightly over yours as he still struggles to take what he so clearly wants. And god, you want him too, and you lift your chin in an attempt to press your mouths closer together, but it’s no use; he retreats just enough to leave you attached by the cupid's bow and a brushing of noses.

Krauser is less than impressed by the soft display. Gripping Leon by the crown of his hair, he admonishes, "I said kiss her, rookie," and all but crushes his face into yours.

You inhale sharply as Leon's lips fuse together intensely with your own. He twitches in surprise, grinding into you again inadvertently. The friction evokes a needy rasp from him, lips parting from the sound just enough for your tongues to meet— fleetingly at first, then reckless and deep as passion wins out against restraint. 

Leon grinds again, this time with intention as you start to melt into each other, having nowhere to go but further into each other’s bodies. Krauser's hand leaves Leon's scalp as he becomes pleased, finally, with his energy. He circles like a shark as he keeps a watchful eye.

Leon becomes more intense as he gains full room to move on his own, like the levee broke for his desire to surge violently and freely, a desire that’d been held back for months of anguish. 

The knife he’d held became forgotten on the ground as his hands grasped for you without instruction, shakily at first, then fervently all around you. His calloused fingertips run across your jawline and down your neck before roaming to your breast, but he doesn't squeeze, not until you arch to push into him yourself. 

It instantly gives him permission to squeeze your flesh firmly, and every movement suddenly becomes urgent. Your tongues clash sloppily, his stiff bulge ruts back and forth against your core, and you can’t help but clamor for him in turn— your thighs hook tight around his waist to pull him further in, to help you relieve the growing pressure between your legs as your head becomes thick with need. 

You nearly forgot Krauser was there at all until he speaks again with a gruff and low tone you've never heard from him before.

"Good. Keep going.”

You can't deny that someone else being in the room turns your brain somewhat mushy. In fact, it turns you on. You're adventurous, sure, but that's a shocking revelation even for you.

More shocking than that, the third party is your major, and he's telling Leon what to do as if he's giving normal orders. Those are ideas you'd laugh yourself sick at half an hour ago, but now here you are, and you feel your underwear slicken with each directive word and the ache to be permitted more.

But unbeknownst to you, that's the first of many things Krauser will awaken in you tonight. Right now, you don't even know how far he plans to take this. But you've spent months being primed to do whatever insane things he demands, and what you do know is that you'd do just about anything to earn more of the young man on top of you. So ever the good soldier, you let your commander lead you wherever he sees fit, and Leon does just the same.

“Take her top off.”

The cool gymnasium air contrasts with Leon's warm hand as it drags your shirt up your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake as you shuffle to allow him to lift it over your head, lips parting only as long as they need to. Your top becomes discarded somewhere on the floor, forgotten before it lands. 

You tremble under Leon's touch as he roams the soft curves of your stomach, gliding upward until he traces the top hem of your sports bra. He hooks his fingertips under the hem and pauses with trepidation, resting his forehead against yours as he bucks into you. By the look on his face, his trousers are becoming a painful confinement.

Leon waits for permission or to have the rug pulled from under him and be told this is all a sick joke, until Krauser gives the former. Just not before making him sweat first.

“You wanna fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Leon shudders while looking down at you, relishing the slightest touch he currently has on your body.

“That’s ‘yes, sir.’ How many times have you jerked off thinking about it?”

Leon gulps before answering, feeling every ounce as humiliated as Krauser intended him to. 

“T-too many to count, sir.”

“Then take it off.”

It crosses your mind that no one’s asked if you’re fine with being stripped in front of an audience of two, but you’re not exactly apt to complain about Leon getting you naked.

Leon fumbles briefly with the tight elastic band before it’s whisked over your head and added to the growing collection of forgotten garments on the floor mat. You turn your head to the side, shying away as Leon takes in a full view of your nipples as they pebble in the cool air. But when you look to the side, your gaze lands on Krauser. 

“Mistake” is your first thought. “Was it?” is the immediate second. All you know is that he’s leaned coolly against the edge of the arena rubbing his thick bulge through his pants as he watches intently. The sight makes you feel like you’ve caught on fire, and you quickly look away.

You have no more time to dwell on it as Leon pinches your nipple between his index finger and his thumb, rolling it between them with a reverent sigh at your reaction, then pulling it up and letting it drop. He repeats it on the other side, and your thighs clench around his hips as the stimulation goes straight to your core. 

You can barely stand the teasing, and your hands find their way underneath Leon’s shirt. The feeling of his taut abs does nothing to quell you, though. It only drives home that the current sensations you’re being afforded aren't anywhere near enough. But right as you feel like you’re going mad, it all comes to a stop.

“Sit up, rookie.”

You whine as Leon does as he’s told, your hands leaving the heat of his stomach as he sits back on his haunches, , still with the exception of the labored rise and fall of his chest, his hands clasped behind his back, and your spit still wet on his lower lip. You’re left deprived of all touch, breathless and exposed, brows twisted up with neediness as you wait.

Krauser’s heavy and measured footsteps towards you are menacing. You don’t dare to look until he comes into view on his own, and from the steep angle up that you have, the large tent in his pants is imposing. It nearly obstructs his face as he stands directly over you. 

“Pretty…” He hums as he appraises the skin that’s been exposed on you so far, and it’s perhaps the first kind thing he’s ever said to you. It sounds foreign in his voice, but then he goes right back to his usual demands. “Strip down, all of it.”

You hesitate for a brief moment before sitting up and unlacing your boots with shaky hands, all too aware of the eyes on you as you discard them and lay back down to fumble with your belt and zipper. It feels all the more exposing to be undressing yourself as opposed to it being done for you somehow, and you try to push away the feeling of awkwardness as you raise your hips and push your bottoms down in one go. You keep your knees together as much as you can as you foot them off of your ankles and kick them away beside you, and rest back down, now totally bare.

The cold air is nothing against the heat of their gazes as you lie there totally bare, awaiting the first touch. It comes from the rubber of Krauser’s boot as he parts your legs with it.

If Leon weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them right then and there. He practically salivates as your pussy is revealed before him, and every nervous twitch of yours makes your wetness glisten in the fluorescent lights. His hands flex where they’re clasped behind him, and his throat tightens as his cock becomes painfully hard within his pants. Still fully clothed, he feels hot, far too hot, as the first traces of sweat begin to form on his skin from the sheer effort it takes not to dive into you.

Krauser hums at the sight of you and takes the toe of his boot to the soft crease where thigh meets ass, and lets the rubber press onto your flesh to pull your cunt open to them. You whine as you feel your slick pool out as your opening flutters for touch. 

“Look at that,” Krauser muses. “No wonder everyone wants a taste. A pussy like that is just begging to be ruined. Isn’t it, Kennedy?”

What is Leon supposed to do here? Say he doesn’t want to ruin you for anyone else? It’d be a bold-faced lie, and he’d agree with just about anything Krauser says right now if it lets him get what’s being dangled right in front of him.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Your cock even big enough to ruin her? Or is that why you haven’t gotten with her?” 

For perhaps the first time in Leon’s life, he suddenly feels unsure. He’s never been insecure about his size before, never had a reason to be. He knows he’s well-endowed. But the major always has impossibly high standards. What if this is no different? What will happen if he doesn’t meet them now?

Leon gulps before answering with a shaky breath, although he tries to sound more sure. “Yes, sir.”

“Let’s see it then.”

Leon nearly gets cold feet, but seeing you spread before him is enough to throw his modesty to the wind. His fingers are clumsy in their quickness as he undoes his pants just enough to get his cock free, and he hisses at the contact of his fingers pulling it out by the base. He can’t stop himself from pumping it once between his fingers, but it takes nothing more than a disapproving glance from Krauser for him to put his hands back at his sides.

His fists become white-knuckled as his hardness hangs obstinately in the air. It’s framed by his still-on t-shirt falling over his navel, the waistband of his briefs sitting snugly under his balls, and his cock springing free between his parted zipper; not much skin is showing, really, but it’s all the more lewd a sight for it.

“Oh, shit,” is all you manage to breathe out.

Short, dark blond hairs silhouette the base, and his tip is an angry pink as it begins to shine with the emergence of a clear bead of precum. It hangs heavily in the air, jolting up once as he bites his lip in arousal, and you catch sight of the coursing vein that runs up the side. He’s long and so thick in girth, and your toes curl at the thought of him trying to fit it all inside of you.

God, what a fool you’ve been for jumping between barracks for sex that was often unsatisfactory and only a means to an end. All this time, you could’ve had Leon instead.

It’s an undeniably captivating sight, even for Krauser, who inhales through his teeth as he too takes it in with his eyes. But still, he isn’t one to give his praise so easily.

“Not bad. Let’s hope you know how to use it.”

You whine in surprise as Krauser suddenly fixes the toe of his boot into you and slowly circles around your clit, and Leon grimaces as he tastes copper from how hard he bites down on his lip.

“Because if you don’t,” Krauser taunts, “I’ll have to take over.”

Your pulse soars at the prospect, fear and arousal intertangling into one. Whether or not that’d happen lies entirely with Leon, but it could very well be a trap; the same as being told that training could end early if you do well enough, but no one can ever do well enough for Krauser. He gets too much sick pleasure in dangling hope over your head, fully knowing you’ll never reach it and enjoying watching you struggle to anyway, and this situation is no different.

A moan leaves your parted lips as Krauser presses his boot more firmly into your clit and rubs it left to right. He chuckles thinly at your response.

“She really is easy, soaking just from my boot. Fucking filthy.” He glides it up and down to literally rub it in, making your legs twitch as he presses into your clit, then looks at you and nods towards Leon. “You like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you nod needily through pursed lips as you tremble under the crude ministrations against your pussy your eyes still fixed on Leon’s increasingly leaking cock.

He lands a soft kick to your clit, nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough to feel the threat and a sharp jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

“Yes, sir,” you correct yourself breathlessly.

He spreads your slick a little more, purely playing with it now as he addresses Leon again.

“Don’t let it go to your head. How many cocks have been in here just since training started…? Bet this whore could cum just from my goddamn boot.” 

Krauser finally steps back, leaving you shaking and untouched yet again, your lips pressed into a thin line as you pray the question remains rhetorical. It does, at least for you.

“But you don’t mind, do you, Kennedy? You like her enough that you’re alright with sloppy seconds? Thirds? Twentieths maybe..?”

Leon's chest flares. Your body count has never once factored into his envy. He just wants you— evidently, by any means necessary. And you being degraded like that? It stokes his anger all over again, and he once again fails to bite his tongue, the contempt clear in his tone as he speaks through a snarl. 

“She’s the whore? You’re the one treating your recruits like a harem, sir.”

Krauser seizes Leon by the bangs, making the younger man yelp as he’s yanked forward by the hair until he’s on all fours in front of you, his face inches away from your cunt. Leon hisses as thick fingers pull viciously at his roots and shake his head in front of your center like a cruel owner admonishing a dog.

“Shut your goddamn mouth— put it to good use before I fuck her and make you watch.”

With no precursor at all, Leon is shoved face-first between your legs. You gasp in shock at the suddenness; with no prior warning for him to begin with any sort of finesse, he lands against you with panting, parted lips, his nose is squished down from the position, pressed just beside your clit.

It takes Leon a second to collect himself, though he does so as quickly as possible once he wraps his mind around his position, nose deep in the part of you he’s been starving for the most. 

Krauser continues to hold him there harshly even as he begins to lap frantically. 

“Where’s all that snark now, huh?”

Leon doesn’t answer— Krauser doesn’t pull him back for him to be able to— instead he moans hard at the taste of your cunt.

Your folds wetten with Leon’s spit as his face collects your arousal, and you whine continuously as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. Being constantly pushed into you makes each stroke of his tongue press firmly wherever it lands around and within the whole of your cunt. It drags up and down, drawing quick and sloppy circles around the expanse of your vulva and the soft skin between your lower lips, flicking over your clit at the top and darting fully into your hole at the bottom.

It’s so vulgar and divine, but it’s too intense too suddenly, and your thighs clamp down around Leon’s head. Krauser just presses him in even further and Leon sucks your clit in compliance, flicking his tongue against the bud inside the vacuum of his mouth, and you yelp and tense your legs harder around his face. But Krauser still has one hand free, and he uses it to hold you open by the knee nearest to him, and despite your whining efforts, his grip is far too strong to budge free of.

You groan in relief as Leon moves on from his onslaught of your clit and dig your nails into the padded floor as he assaults the whole of your core instead, all while Krauser keeps your legs spread wide for him.

The wet sounds of his tongue along with frantic moans from you both fill the room as you reel towards your seventh heaven, and Krauser can tell— of course he can. It’d be obvious to anyone that you’re on the brink from the way you increasingly arch against the floor. But the absolute sight of you isn’t the only thing that makes it obvious; you’re finding it increasingly difficult to muzzle yourself and you mumble pathetically between labored breaths.

“I– ah, ahhh, Leon fuck— oh-hh…”

And it’s borderline petulant the way you whine when Leon’s mouth leaves you all at once. Your head shoots up in shock at the loss, looking to see what caused your release to be denied, but nothing had happened except for Krauser’s cruel whim.

You’re equally shocked to see the look on Leon’s face. Still on all fours and held back by his hair, his mouth is swollen, pink, and shining with slick from the bridge of his nose to the cleft of his chin. His moans are light as if he’s breaking fever and his eyes are half-lidded like he’s drunk. His cock hangs neglected between his legs with a thick string of glossy precum connected from the head to where it’s dripped down to the floor. But the most shocking of all is the faint smile that pulls at the corners of his puffy mouth as Krauser pulls his hair a little tighter.

‘How’s she taste, huh?”

“Incredible, sir.”

“Yeah? You taste any cock still in there?”

Leon’s nostrils flare and his mouth opens into a snarl, but before he can spit whatever insult he has in mind, Krauser yanks his head back painfully and growls.

“Better watch that mouth, kid, or you’ll be eating my cum out of her next.”

Krauser sends him back on his knees with a shove to the head and then rises to stand again, jostling his hard-on thickly through his pants as yet another threat. “Or maybe I’ll shut you up another way, eh?”

The silent grimace on Leon’s face is much to Krauser’s amusement as he berates him with a smile, still stroking his bulge.

“That’s what I thought. Fucking ungrateful. I let you eat her out and you’re acting like a damn brat. You think I should let you fuck her? Huh?”

Swallowing his pride, Leon answers. “Please, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Beg.”

That’s a demand Leon is a touch too stubborn to easily do. He clenches his eyes and grinds his teeth, still reeling from the lack of touch, and twitches restlessly as the words struggle to come.

But Krauser is impatient. He expresses it through a dull backhand to Leon’s cheek.

“That’s an order, Kennedy.”

Although the slap is ultimately harmless (and could even be considered kind compared to the many blows you’ve both received from the major throughout training), a sense of fear shoots through you. You suddenly realize just how badly this could end if it goes south. You’re still keenly aware that this began by sparring with real knives, a testament to how insane your instructor truly is.

But your wires are well and truly crossed, and although you tremble on the floor, it all feels thrilling just the same. You’re just as sick as Krauser, maybe, the way you ache for Leon to submit so he can give you what you need. Luckily for your throbbing heat and unluckily for Leon’s dignity, he complies.

“Please,” he begins through his teeth, “let me fuck her, sir.”

“You can do better than that. You’ve wanted this for how long…? Let her hear it.”

Your breath hitches at the thought that Krauser has seen what you couldn’t all this time. It’s reinforced by the way Leon hangs his head and his brows change from being knit with anger to upturning in a pained plea as he speaks straight into you.

“Please let me fuck her, sir. Wanted to for so damn long, I—” His cock twitches in the air as if to attest to it being true. “Wanna show her why she doesn’t need to sleep around, that I’d treat her better than all of them, that I am better. Tasted so good, she’s so— I just— fuck, I’d do just about anything, major, please.”

Leon looks up to search for a sign it’s good enough while you do a double take at such lewd words coming from his lips.

In a change of tone, Krauser speaks low and deliberately to the young man.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say. And I mean exactly. If not, I'll take over. You won't get to cum and I’ll make sure she never sneaks off into your bed. Understood?”

Leon nods rapidly and whispers the affirmative under his breath. Krauser nods once and turns around as he gives his first command.

“Take your shirt off and pull your pants down enough to do the job.”

As Krauser strides away, you and Leon shoot a look at each other behind his back. It’s perhaps your first unobserved moment of eye contact the entire day, you realize, and the brief moment seems to expand into something big and desperate and warm, like something that’s just yours. Then Krauser’s heavy steps land in the room and urge Leon’s hands to move.

Your eyes float down over his cut figure as his clothing finally joins yours on the floor. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, sure, but never with the opportunity to stare, and certainly never with his pants around his thighs.

Your knees subconsciously part ever so slightly at the whole of him; his ashen hair unkempt and askew from Krauser’s disrespect to it, the valleys and peaks of each muscle on his whole torso and arms, and the kind of cock you thought only exists in porn you have to pay for—all of it flushed pink with pent-up desire for you and you alone.

The abrasive whir of a zipper steals your attention. Your eyes flick to the side and you see the major lean against the wall at the edge of the combat ring, pulling his own cock free as he settles in to watch. You feel like you see something you shouldn’t have for some reason, even though you hardly see his dick at all— and you yourself are naked and dripping on the floor, how can you still be embarrassed? Still, you immediately look away with your heart hammering in your chest.

“Kneel between her legs. Don’t touch yourself.”

You part your legs to make room and the flush spreads up from Leon’s chest to his cheeks as he shuffles forward on his knees. He winces as the head of his cock grazes hot against your folds, but he doesn’t dare to do anything about it.

“Slap it with your cock.”

Leon shudders as he holds the base and brings his head down onto your plump clit twice, pauses briefly, and then does it again and again at Krauser’s encouragement. Wet plap plap’s fill the room along with the sound of you sputtering at the teasing.

You fight the urge to curl your hips to get him to push it in; you know he won’t and can’t until he’s given the go-ahead. But it’s torture for you both as Krauser gives him no further instruction for minutes. Only when you both strain and cry out like you’ll break does he give his next demand.

“Stop.”

Not the one you want. Leon’s hands claw into his thighs to keep them fixed away from himself, and you feel hot all over as the head of his tip rests heavily on top of your clit.

Tense and restrained, you push your luck and start grinding against it, careful not to move to much to avoid detection. But if nothing else, Leon’s whine gives it away. Krauser doesn’t seem to mind.

“What a cock-whore,” he says through a devilish smile as he strokes himself leisurely. “She’s just dying for it. You still sure you can satisfy her?”

Leon can only moan and nod in response, and for once, the lack of formalities is accepted.

“Put it in. Stop when you bottom out. Let’s see how much she can take.”

As sadistic and unorthodox as Krauser’s methods are, the results of them are undeniable in the way Leon follows his orders at once.

He rests a hand against your thigh, his thumb rubbing up and down on the soft skin soothingly, as his other guides his shaft towards your entrance. You hold your breath as it notches there, and he wastes no time before he steadily sinks in with a hiss.

“Good god, you’re tight,” Leon chokes out as the head slips past your entrance.

You nearly wheeze as it does, your nerves on fire as they’re delivered the feeling they’ve endured all the torturous teasing for. The long shaft of his cock is hot against your walls and heavy as each new inch settles in, his girth burning the tight tissues of your entrance as they try to accommodate it. Despite the struggle, you keen into him, all to eager to take more, totally forgetting that when he gets to the hilt, he’ll stop.

Three long, tempered drags of his cock and he’s finally flush inside of you. His eyes roll back as he stills there, breathing harder than ever as he fights against thrusting instinctually. Your legs twitch as you sit with the feeling of his fat tip flush against your cervix, your walls hardly accommodating the whole of his dick, at least not yet, and Leon squeezes your parted knees with a frayed and empathetic look.

“Oh, oh f-fuck…”

Leon wants—needs— more just as much as you, if not more than, but he tries to focus on enjoying what he's presently afforded, and tries not to so much as think about how close he feels to cumming entirely too early.

“Enough sniveling— fuck her hard.”

Leon feels a pang of regret. He'd thought of this moment so many times before, ran through it like a waking dream on lonely nights spent lying awake in his cot. He’d always imagined starting slow, making you cum on his tongue and fingers before he entered you gently to hear your pretty breathless moans; to cradle you in his arms as he rocks into your perfect cunt, to hold you tight and kiss you all over—

—But that never happened, and while he dreamed of making love to you, you were busy getting railed in another recruit's room. Sometimes within earshot.

It’s an easy command to follow; he'll take what he can get.

Leon withdraws almost entirely before snapping in to the hilt. You cry out as he crashes powerfully against your cervix and fills every sweet spot all at once, acute pain sitting right alongside the overwhelming pleasure as your cunt stretches to its limits around him.

“Oh f-fuck, Leon—"

You cry out as he does it again with even more force this time, crashing into you so brutally that you slide back on the mat, but he just grips your hips to pull you back to him to continue.

With each new punishing thrust his navel smacks loudly against your center, and you desperately grasp at his wrists to hold on as you take it, moaning feverishly until your body adjusts to accommodate the brute impacts he delivers. When you do, it leaves only a fierce and overwhelming pleasure, and you arch off the mat like an animal in heat, writhing into and away from the intensity simultaneously.

He develops a rapid-fire rhythm he grunts in time to. It takes so much effort to take that you quickly become covered in a thin sheen of sweat that has you sliding back on the mat all over again.

“Grab her wrists and pin her down.”

Leon does it instantly, nailing you in place with an iron grip, your wrists fixed on either side of your head. It brings a new angle that has his cock beating mercilessly against your inner sweet spot, and with your ability to move being limited, you moan shamelessly as you take the bombardment.

He can’t keep himself quiet either, though he tries— he babbles through wet lips and grinding teeth as his eyes roll back in his head.

“Oh fuck, baby. Your pussy’s so perfect, god…”

Every time you twist in pleasure he hits a new spot that makes you see stars, and when you push against his hands, the fact that he so easily cages you in makes it all the better. But sweeter than anything, him pinning you down makes you face-to-face with him again.

The faces he makes are plucked straight from euro porn, full of lust as his expression contorts with every wanton moan. His full lips are a plump and rosy pink, occasionally being wetted by his tongue flicking over them mindlessly as he works; his blown pupils making his eyes a darker, oceanic shade of blue that you ache to drown in.

You tip your chin up to try and kiss him. God, how you want to kiss him again. And you're so close together, if you could just—

He looks at your lips and slowly closes the difference, and then—

Krauser barks your name, and you're yanked right out of your immersion.

“Look at me.”

You hesitantly turn your head away from Leon and towards your major. Your throat feels thick as you do, and your mouth goes dry as you see what, in the back of your mind, you knew Krauser has been doing the whole time.

At some point he's taken his shirt off and he stands bare-chested some five feet away, leaning against the edge of the fighting ring with a wide stance, his posture emphasizing the sheer broadness of his build. He's pulled undone his pants enough to pull himself out and nothing more, and now you know that truly every inch of him is imposing as he strokes his large cock with a strong, persistent grip.

Even sheathed in his big hands, it looks fucking huge. Perhaps equal in length to Leon, maybe an inch shorter, but absolutely formidable in girth and decorated in thick, bulging veins. Your breath hitches as you watch him tug hard up the length of it, squeezing out a bead of precum before smearing it slowly back down his length.

Your eyes flit between Krauser’s face and his cock, each one too imposing to settle on. He smirks like he knows the look in your eyes, like many people before have cowered in fear at his size, like he enjoys the terror that flashes in your gaze.

“Tell me what you think,” he tells you, holding his cock up by the base as if he’s arrogantly raising a weapon.

You struggle to speak with Leon holding your jaw tight in his hands and his cock striking the deepest parts of you— I mean jesus, it’s hard to even think coherently with how he’s rearranging your guts. But you don’t want him to be stopped more than you feel queasy, so you attempt it.

“I-I… you’re– oh– uh, ahh, big, and—”

Mercifully, perhaps, Krauser interjects with a ragged chuckle. “Cock-drunk already, huh? Try again. Come on.”

You completely and totally are, and it becomes twice as difficult to speak as Leon puts more weight into his hips, forcing your legs wider and barraging his cock at an even deeper angle in, like fucking you harder is all he can offer to distract you in the event you're watching something you didn’t want to see.

Do you want to see it…? You really don't know. You'd never looked at your instructor through this kind of lens before, and only were now because you were being forced to. 

You try again, blubbering through the drool that trickles down the corner of your mouth and onto Leon’s fingers.

“You’re… it’s… oh—” 

The air is pushed from your lungs as Leon sends his next thrust into you with aggressive force, sending your head tipping back as your eyes roll and a loud, wet smack echoes off the gymnasium walls. 

“So fucking useless…” Krauser grumbles. “Can’t take a little hard fucking without turning stupid? Choke her out, Kennedy; give ‘er a reason she can’t speak.”

With a grunt, Leon wraps a hand around the whole of your neck. Not enough to hurt, just enough to press you into the floor by it. Still, his ragged breath shakes in surprise at his own lack of hesitation. 

He’s even more surprised that he doesn’t hate it and that you don’t seem to either. He tests the waters and squeezes a little tighter, drawing a strangled moan from you that clearly isn’t from pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he hisses in time with each thrust, swearing more at himself than anything. 

He feels like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. He shouldn’t think this is so hot. He could actually hurt you here. 

Your cunt clamps down on him as you gasp, and something new washes over him. He grits his teeth and squeezes hard.

You sputter silently as your airway becomes constricted and something daunting builds in your core. Your pulse pounds in your skull as the oxygen in your brain grows stale and dies, you feel your muscles locking up, and you know you’d be moaning if you could make any noun at all. 

Your vision slowly darkens around the edges, obscuring the vicious look on Leon’s face that sits in your periphery. In the center of the vignette stands the sight of Krauser’s hand working himself faster. Leon’s hold on your throat and the constant torrent against your inner walls are equally violent, and your pleasure grows violently in response. But all you can do is weakly keen into Leon’s cock as your body becomes completely flooded with unadulterated sensation.

“Slap her pretty face,” Krauser grunts.

Leon does. You’re barely cognizant enough to flinch and can hardly move enough to anyway, but it lands dully; not even enough to sting.

“Oh, don’t fucking insult me. Slap her.”

This time, your cheekbone blooms with heat in the wake of the rough calluses of his palm snapping against you.

“Harder.”

His hand crashes into your face and the whole room starts spinning. 

You’ve taken countless blows to the face before, and many from Leon himself; you knew all too well how hard he could hit. Hell, you’d already have bruises tomorrow from the training session that led you here. But that blow landed utterly uniquely from any other you’d endured. No pain had ever caused this kind of disorientation. 

Vision fixed on the voyeur and your cunt skewered on Leon’s cock, decreasing thoughts as your face tingles and your neck aches under a ruthless grip, lungs burning behind your ribs— clit swollen and oversensitive from each smack of Leon’s navel against it. Your eyes are bulging and body’s locking up, making your cunt grip around him tighter, pushing out a new surge of wetness around him—

Your vision darkens until all that’s left is the brute force of how good it all feels. Every ounce of pleasure and pain compounds into blindingly bright sensation, like white-hot lightning running through your every nerve, growing stronger and stronger as your faculties weaken. 

Your face feels hot as you try in vain to gasp for air, hips working sloppily to try to meet Leon’s pace as he thrusts into your sweet spots over and over. Krauser speaks, but you don’t grasp the words until Leon’s free hand frantically connects with your clit.

“Look at that, she fucking loves it. Go on, make her cum on your cock.”

The grip on your neck lessens just enough to seize a rough gasp of new air as your orgasm rallies. Your back arches so acutely, you feel like Leon’s hold is the only thing stopping you from levitating. Krauser’s mumbling between barks of orders as you tear at the seams—

“That’s it, give her what she needs. Keep her eyes on me.”

Leon captures you by the cheeks to turn your face back towards Krauser. You breathe desperately and watch him while your hands reach haplessly for Leon, nails dragging everywhere they land as you steal ragged breaths through the nose. It’s all so good, so much, and god the mindfuck of it all— your eyes glued to Krauser jerking himself off while another man pistons his cock inside of you, like they're both being cucked somehow as your physical and mental attention is divvied between them. 

It’s all just so insane— the fact that Krauser is getting off to you being split in half and manhandled by your opponent, telling him how and when to fuck you— like Krauser is the director and you and Leon are the stars of his own personal brand of violent pornography.

And it’s a role Leon plays well. He’s grown to be barbaric in his own right, a part of him no one including himself knew existed until now. 

Krauser had that effect on his recruits, and apparently this was no exception: he’d made the rookie into exactly what he needed to be to rise to the occasion. And the result is animalistic, further evidenced as Leon licks a flat-tongued stripe up your jugular and bites down before growling into your hair through sharp teeth.

“Fucking feel me.”

His voice pulls the pin on the live grenade of your arousal, and in seconds flat, you combust.

Your orgasm hits you like a devastating blow to the core, tearing through your body as if somewhere within your center an atom had split in half. You writhe like you’re dying, and high-pitched moans flood out of your pursed lips that are still squeezed taut in Leon’s grip. He has to hold you even tighter just to keep you from falling away, and he puts a hand on your stomach with weight that lets you both feel each time he bulges through your stomach. 

The cracking sounds of his hips connecting with your cunt become wetter and more crude as you gush around him with each shockwave of seizing bliss. Leon starts falling apart himself, moaning wildly as you tighten around him like a vice. He looks down to see the base of his cock covered in the creamy white slick of your cum, and that's enough to make him see stars.

“Oh fuck, jesus fucking christ I’m—“

Cruel as ever, Krauser makes his next command.

“Stop.”

Leon is in a full breakdown as he tries to; he lets go of you to claw his nails into the ground, pained sounds ripping from his chest as he struggles to keep still, but he can’t keep his hips from twitching forward to save his life. He was so close to cumming and he has to force himself not to as he keeps himself bottomed out again, a guttingly difficult task as your walls continue to pulse around his cock as you come down from your high. 

The stakes heighten as Krauser approaches with heavy boot steps, and Leon’s whole body strains as he fights to comply before he gets there. Leon swears under his breath as the tendons in his neck clench and small veins begin to pop against his temple, grabbing your weak body by the hips to fix you on his cock instead of fighting the involuntary jolts of his hips.

“Fuckfuckfuck, m’sorry, I’m t-trying, ahh…”

Krauser stands over you again, pumping his sturdy dick in a firm but leisurely grip at the absolute sight of you two. You can only imagine how obscene you must look lying numb and weak on the ground— you’re still panting as you come down from your high, your wild hair sticking to your sweaty neck and forehead, fucked-out and used with Leon’s cock still stuffing you full while you let your major jerk off above you.

But as downright shameful as you look and feel, Krauser takes his sweet time soaking it in, enjoying the unfiltered vulgarity of it as he pumps himself a hair faster. 

You’re grateful for the time to catch your breath, sure, but the longer you’re there, the more his attention burns. As seconds roll by, your sweat cools uncomfortably on your skin, you regain enough feeling in your body to feel a small amount of what it’s been through, but most of all, you become more aware of where you and Leon connect.

Your orgasm made you twice as sensitive, and the lack of motion is as maddening to you as it is for Leon as he throbs inside your walls. You can’t help but to squirm around for relief, and you can’t help but to moan as the movement drags the head of his cock against your g-spot. 

“Jesus, you still want more? Is one cock not enough? Should’ve fucking known,” Krauser tuts, twisting his fist around the wide base of his dick. “You’ve always been tough. Shoulda known you wouldn’t break so easily. Always making me get my hands dirty…”

He pushes Leon to lean back and out of the way for a thick droplet of spit to fall from Krauser’s lips all the way down to your clit. You jolt at the sensation of it landing, but it doesn’t compare to when Krauser drops to one knee and rubs it in with two firm fingertips.

He massages his spit into your clit with rough fingerpads that move in tight and steady circles, building you towards another bout of sensory overload with calculated precision. You look rapidly between Krauser and Leon and your own body through wet lashes, frantically trying and failing to get a grip. 

It’s all too much, but somehow, it isn’t enough. You need Leon to move like you need air to breathe.

“Nnhg, m-major…” you moan hesitantly

“What?” he says dryly, as if he isn’t causing your undoing. You only manage a throaty whine in response, and he chides you by increasing his speed on your clit. “Speak.”

You try, but your words are bracketed by thick heaving breaths. “Hhha, I… oh, ahh…. p-please…”

Krauser leaves his weighty cock to hang in the air as he adds his other hand to your body, staring at you intently as a high pitched shriek gets caught in the back of your throat. He pinches your nipples one by one before flicking them each sharply, matching his rhythm on your clit, stimulating every part of you continuously. He just smirks as your brain melts in your skull, your mouth falling open with nothing comprehensible coming out of it.

“Please what?” 

You squirm in an attempt to lessen the overwhelming feeling, but he doesn’t falter once, only leaving your clit to dip his fingers around either side of Leon’s shaft to gather your wetness to slicken your sore nub. Leon sputters at the brief yet unexpected feeling and he bucks into you so deep you both choke. 

“F-fuck, I… I need… ahhh,” you whine hard, your head flying back on the ground.

“You can take it. If you’re not gonna use your words, then be quiet.”

You really do try and stay quiet at that, biting your lip so hard you think you might taste blood, but you just can’t.

You can still feel Leon pulsating inside of you, can still hear the sweet sounds of his agonized grunts as you’re brought back to the brink. Leon holds your hips tight for his own sake so he doesn’t cum before he’s allowed, his fingers pressing deeply into your soft flesh to keep you from bucking into him more than you already are, and the dull pain where his short fingernails dig in just add to it all. You’re trembling severely, the meat of your thighs shaking uncontrollably, and it all just feels too good.

All at once, Krauser pinches a nipple painfully and strums you so quickly his hand blurs, and you all but fucking scream.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Krauser snarls and removes his touch altogether.

It’s easier to swallow your sounds as the sensation fades, but the damage has already been done. Your vision swims as Krauser grabs the since-forgotten combat knife and tosses it to Leon before kneeling beside your head. 

Leon catches it on pure instinct and stares dumbfoundedly at it in his hands.

Krauser frames your face with his thighs and his cock becomes inches away from your face. Close enough to see every short wheat colored hair on his navel, every vein that courses up his substantial width; close enough to smell the salt on his skin, even. 

He guides it to stroke the length of it overtop your plush, drool-covered lips.

It’s fucking denigrating, the way he does it, dragging his cock over your face with a gruff hum as he holds you in place by the crown of your hair. The shocked face of shame you wear only makes him leak with pre.

Krauser hooks his fingers behind your bottom teeth and pulls your mouth open to slap his tip against your tongue, and you shudder at the sweet taste of his precum. Then he lets go and notches the tip between your puffy lips.

Leon watches with the knife still in his hands, a quiet horrification in his tone as he speaks.

“Sir…”

“Hold it against her neck,” Krauser answers like it’s nothing, “or I’ll do it.”

Krauser plugs your mouth with his cock at the same time that cold steel meets your neck.

Leon watches the sight wide-eyed and disturbed. This is going too far, he thinks— but he’s gone too far to stop himself, too. 

Krauser is clearly getting off to the sight of you being borderline assaulted, and Leon is a partner to it. He’s the one holding the flat of a blade to your jugular while your superior sodomizes you, the one who’s still struggling not to cum and wishing he could fuck you fully again. He’s already an accomplice, or more accurately at this point, a willing participant. 

He thinks now that Krauser might’ve actually been right, that in these ways they’re alike. It horrifies him and shatters his self-image, but his cock aches with need regardless.

You’re mindless to it all as you start to suck Krauser off. Your lips struggle to stretch around his girth, your whines are muffled as you take more and more, and you feel so fucking dirty that you rock into Leon without thinking. 

Fuck, you’re actually enjoying this. A lot. 

‘Maybe I am a whore’, you think as your toes curl against Leon’s calves— but how could you possibly care about that right now? You don’t, and you can’t— all you can think about is making Krauser fit inside your mouth so he’ll let Leon keep going. 

Leon is harder than he’s ever been in his life, another fact that has him dumbstruck with himself. He even envies the man for getting to stuff his fat dick past your pretty lips, for being the one who’s making your face twist up like it is.

But the final nail in his moral coffin? The sight of you slowly being face-fucked, struggling to suck such a big dick with enthusiasm, while he holds a knife to your neck… it brings him right back to the edge of release. Not in spite of it— because of it. 

So when Krauser tells Leon to fuck you again with a reminder not to cum until he’s given permission, he does it without a hint of hesitation.

When he does, you’re no longer on planet earth; you’re floating somewhere above it, your senses more overloaded than ever. It takes focus you barely have to keep Krauser’s girth from hitting your teeth as he picks up speed to roughly fuck your face.

Krauser alternates between striking the back of your throat and holding your chin down to push it against the inside of your cheeks, watching his head bulge out your face before continuing his assault on your throat, using your mouth like exactly the kind of whore he’d made you out to be. All while Leon delivers blunt thrusts, each one thumping against the most electric spots inside your cunt, and each harsh snap of his hips cracks in the room like lightning. 

And every few seconds you feel the flat of the blade bump against your neck, a chilling reminder of the control you’re under.

Krauser truly is a goddamn psychopath. That’s never been more evident than now. But it fills you with a certain thrill to be at the mercy of a certified killing machine and his most promising rookie. Both of them are more than capable of causing you serious injury right now, but all their brawn and might is being utilized to ruin you in a way that feels good, and it’s the best, most exhilarating experience you’ve ever had.

Maybe you’re all psychopaths. Maybe Krauser’s promise on the first day of training held a particular purpose for you and Leon. Perhaps the training broke you long ago, and at some point you couldn’t place, he’d reassembled your bleeding hearts into corrupted, submissive subjects, ones perfectly crafted for him to play with, to even enjoy his sadistic demands.

Tears prick at your eyes as Krauser presses himself as far as he can go into your mouth and you choke around him. He’s too thick to take so deeply, and your throat seizes up in rejection. He slaps your cheek just enough to feel it sting as he forces you to keep trying. 

“That’s it, choke on it, bitch.”

And choke on it you do, with horrible sounds emanating from your throat as he likely bruises it. Your hands grasp for nothing at the overwhelm and Krauser pins the arm nearest to him under his knee, and Leon holds the other down by the bicep before Krauser even looks at him.

“There you go, now you’re fucking behaving,” Krauser pants at you both. “My two most obedient soldiers… hah.”

A thick string of spit connects your lips to Krauser’s tip as he pulls out suddenly, giving you a chance to gasp for air. He slaps its weight against the red welts in the shape of Leon’s hand on your cheek, making the sore skin shine with spit. Your tongue lolls out on its own and he goes right back to skull fucking you, holding you firmly by the sides of your head to keep you at the right angle. 

You moan as his cock vein drags up and down your wet, flat tongue as he thrusts in and out decisively, and your eyes roll back as he starts working your nipples again, catching them in his fingertips as they recoil with Leon’s thrusts.

Leon can’t help it; he can’t stop watching. It brings him closer than ever to breaking. His orgasm has been denied so many times when he’s right there on the edge, and the thought of holding it back again is devastating. So all on his own, he begs.

“Krauser, please, let me… let me cum, sir. I need to, I need—“

And Krauser is all too aware of his staring.

“You like watching me use her mouth that much? Gonna get off to it while you have a knife to her neck? You’re a sick fuck, kid.”

Leon chokes out a sob at the fact and that his plea went totally ignored. But looking between you, Krauser falters too, and he pounds your moaning mouth more wildly.

“Fuck, you’re both crying. You two are so damn dirty.”

Krauser grunts, and nearing his own edge, he makes sure to bring you with him. He reaches over to wedge his hand between you and Leon’s bodies to rub your sopping clit again.

You try to writhe, but you’re too pinned down, and too big of a movement sends your jugular dangerously close to the knife. All you can do is take it, teary eyed and pliant, trembling like an earthquake as you near another peak.

Leon whines as Krauser dips his fingers down to your cunt, but this time, they don’t pass there just to collect your slick. He keeps them fixed around Leon’s cock while he cups your pussy, and each time Leon thrusts, his shaft passes through the tight friction of his fingers. 

He braves a glance down at where you all connect and god, it is dirty, just like Krauser said— and Leon is weak to it. His gut twists as your cunt and the major’s fingers both grip around him, warm and velvety wet and threatening to milk him dry.

Ever the coach, Krauser starts encouraging you both, his steady tone in stark contrast to Leon’s as the younger man starts begging again.

“That’s it, take it. Cum for us so he can get his.”

“Please, oh fuck she’s so tight, m’not gonna make it sir, I—”

“Just a little more, Kennedy, don’t quit on me now. Where’s all that endurance?”

“I can’t sir I can’t, needta cum so bad, oh god it fucking hurts.”

Krauser’s own cracks finally show through, the grumbling under his breath the first sign he has any weakness at all as you suck him off with urgency, trying to catch him up to your contemporary.

“Shit, yeah, suck my cock just like that. Sound so good when you beg for me, rookie, jesus.”

A pathetic sound comes from Leon as his thrusts grow sloppy, and he leans over you on his forearm as his muscles begin to buckle. It makes you feel even more caged in, traps Krauser’s palm against your clit, forces your legs a little farther apart— and suddenly, you snap.

You convulse completely as you cum, and the rough sounds the two men make in response only bring you higher until the pleasure is blinding. Your ears ring and mute the strings of profanities they’re chanting as they feel it soar through you and gush around them, and you’re putty in Krauser’s hands as he pulls out and keeps your slack jaw open.

“That’s it, shit, cum for her, Kennedy, fuck.”

“Where, where—?”

"In her, fill her fucking cunt— ahh, fuck—”

You flinch in surprise at the first hot rope of cum that falls onto your tongue. While Krauser paints your open mouth white, Leon collapses over you, and you thread weak fingers into his sweaty hair as he cries out into the crook of your neck.

His words are only for you.

“Oh god, I’m cumming, I’m– oh, ohh fuck—”

He devolves into a mindless stream of consciousness as he pumps you full of it.

“Shit, you feel s’fucking good, fucking take me.”

And when he remembers the knife in his hand:

“Oh god, I’m so damn sorry.”

You can’t think enough to even wonder what he’s sorry for as you swallow your mouthful of cum, shuddering at the mild tang before suckling the last drops from the head of Krauser’s dick.

All the while, you feel every single drop that Leon buries inside of you, warm in the depths of your cunt and slightly stinging the sore skin at your entrance as tickles escape around his base. It seems like his orgasm will never end; there must be so much of it, and even when you no longer feel new ropes of his cum pooling into you, he ruts it shallowly into your cervix as he shakes with aftershocks. 

It takes a long time for you both to settle, and for lengthy minutes, you just lie there together, eyes closed and adrift. Your whole body is abuzz as you run your hands up and down his back, feeling it rise and fall with his staggered breathing as he lies flush against you, a drunken smile on your face as you come down for good. You sink heavily into the floor, no thoughts whatsoever in your head, and nothing behind your eyes but stars.

Leon too is perfectly exhausted from the way he’s been thoroughly drained, and he’s more than happy to join you in your empty-headed daze. So lie there you do, long enough to be overtaken by fatigue as your blown minds weigh down with sleep, even long enough to forget about what Krauser might be doing. 

Leon rolls off of you, knife clattering to the ground as it slips from his limp fingers, and you open your blurry eyes to see the cause: Krauser’s boot.

Krauser doesn’t look angry at all, more so inconvenienced. He shakes his head at the way Leon’s dead weight falls beside you, too tired to even react to his soft dick slipping out of your sopping cunt.

“Good god…” Krauser mutters under his breath, scoffing at the soft display of you and Leon in a puddle on the ground— an understandably dissonant sight after what you’ve all just done. But it doesn’t cut through your euphoric afterglow at all; Krauser’s disapproval is too familiar to blink twice at even now; if anything, it’s casual coming from him. You even weakly smile until he speaks again with a touch more bitterness in his tone.

“You two look just pathetic.”

Blinking away the stale tears that cling to your eyelashes, Krauser sharpens into view. He’s collected himself completely in the time you’ve been drifting away.

And there you are in stark contrast, completely naked on the floor, your limp limbs in a tangled heap wherever gravity took them, your hair a mess of sweat and frizz— and the most indecent sight of all, the cum drying on the corners of your mouth and leaking out of your swollen folds. 

Leon lies beside you in an equally tragic state: his hair is a disaster, his trousers are loose around his knees, and a final drop of cum leaks from the tip of his sore cock.

No wonder Krauser’s displeased. There’s truly no world where he’d be glad to see his top recruits looking half dead in front of him, especially when he somehow managed to be so unaffected himself.

“Get up before you stain the mat.”

You and Leon are all creaks and groans as you pull yourselves to your knees, not yet daring to try your feet and instead crawling to find your clothes. You fight against your lightheadedness as you sit upright to redress, trying to do it quickly before Leon’s cum spills out of you and onto the floor. You can feel how much there is, and you don’t know if you’ll have the strength to clean it up, which you’d surely be made to if it did.

But in the minutes you have somewhat to yourself, your throat feels tight all over again. You feel like you’re back at the beginning in the exact same predicament as before: How the hell are you supposed to look Leon in the eyes? 

When you’re finally dressed, you stumble to your feet, and you hardly look at him at all before you both shy away. But as you stand in the room on wobbly legs, you find a new predicament, too: What the hell happens now?

You’ve stumbled into completely uncharted territory, and you have only your major to guide you. So on pure routine, you both look to your superior to tell you what to do next. 

It has to be the most hilariously pathetic attempt at standing in formation ever, the way he looks incredulously at the two of you as he shrugs on his olive green overshirt, pausing at the sight.

“You’re both so fucking clueless” he grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hit the showers and go to bed.”

You stumble shame-faced through yes sir’s and turn heel to the gymnasium door, and your mouth goes dry with each new step. 

That’s it then..? You have to pretend it never happened without so much as an acknowledgment? You half wish Krauser had shaken you by the shoulders and told you what to think as usual, for him to set right your spinning head.

“Hey,” Krauser calls just before you reach the door. You both look back and wait, your hearts beating in your chest, but he only looks at you. “I don’t like rumors. I better not hear any more. Understood?”

He stares you down sharply with a lift in his brow. You inhale deeply as you catch his drift. “Y-yeah. Understood, sir.”

Krauser calms and nods once, then turns away. You take the opportunity to slip out of the door.

The walk back to the barracks is painfully quiet; neither of you know what to say. Your bootsteps are the only sound echoing in the dim halls, and your heartbeat is the only thing in your ears.

It isn’t a long walk before you reach the fork between the male and female barrack halls. Your steps slow until they reach a halt and Leon lingers behind you. You turn halfway to face him, but nothing comes of it; you both can only stand there with open mouths that don’t say anything.

You stiffly turn away, but then Leon speaks your name quietly and brokenly, and everything unspoken is left in the ellipses. He gulps once and feels his dry tongue cling to the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, and a shaky voice comes out that echoes your very same need.

“Tell me it’s okay.”

You turn around and finally manage to look at him, and it cracks your heart wide open. He looks so much like he did when you’d both arrived here, a scared young man who arrived fresh from the horrors he’d witnessed, who’d do anything to keep everything in one piece despite how much he himself needs saving. 

It’s the face you’d first fallen for and fell for all over again as it sharpened into the fierceness he had now. The same face that held you impossibly close just moments ago. 

You fall all over again and crash into his chest at terminal velocity, clinging to him with all the energy you have left in you to give.

“It’s okay.”

You hold each other there in the hall for a long time. Neither of you know what you’ll wake up to in the morning or how the hell you’ll pretend everything is normal, but right now, you don’t need to. You just need to hold each other long enough to know that the other one is there.

When you slowly pull away, your fingertips linger over each other’s before you finally break apart. And with one last breathless look into his blown blue eyes, you head towards the women’s showers.

You squint in the fluorescents and avoid your reflection. You step into the shower while it’s still running cold and let the tension wash away in the water as it grows to a calming steam.

You wash yourself with purpose— it’s well past one in the morning and you don’t have sleep to spare— but your fingers linger between your legs as you clean where you feel the most dirty. Feeling the slick slip of cum against your sore, swollen lips as it commingles with the suds, you smile.

⌖⌖⌖

The next morning, everything seems to scream. The wake alarm. Your muscles. Your head from three fleeting hours of sleep. Your thoughts as you remember the source of your freshly aching body.

The very beginnings of bruises bloom in greens and purples under your skin: on your wrists, your hips, and the distinct shape of fingers on your bicep. Your neck is sore and your cheek is tender, nevermind your throat and between your legs. As nervous as the evidence of last night being visible makes you, there's no cause to worry about the curious glances your comrades give you. It really does just look like you got your ass beat in combat, which is... true enough, you suppose.

Still, you can hardly look anyone in the eyes without your blood feeling hot about the new secret that you're keeping, but you don’t have many chances to.

First formation comes in place of breakfast. You’ve never stood so straight in your life; it wouldn’t be a good day to have Krauser pick on you. Definitely not.

Every time the major’s eyes glance over you, goosebumps prick your skin. You have no idea what he thinks about last night’s events, and so you dread his reprimands more than ever.

And when your eyes catch against Leon's, although you catch a hundred different things in his gaze, disappointment isn't one of them, and it's comforting somehow to know that he's feeling the same dizzying mix of emotions as you without having to ask.

But somehow, despite your cloudy thoughts, your aching body, and the ever-present signs of sleep deprivation, you excel.

And so the day goes on without incident as far as USSTRATCOM goes. You’re well ready for sleep by the time you’re relieved for the night, but you stay awake until you know everyone is asleep.

You take your time standing up from your cot, careful not to make it creak or shuffle the cheap blankets noisily. You watch your bunk mate snore as you tip-toe to the door in your socks. Boots would sound too heavy, and besides, you aren’t going far.

Your heart races as you scamper to the men’s wing and look for the right door, but you can’t seem to find it. Maybe it’s farther down than you thought? You turn back down the hall with knit brows to check the room numbers again. No dice. Maybe you passed it already.

You turn again and freeze as a doors opens and none other than Leon walks out.

There’s still no disappointment in his face, though. This is full-on despair. His face drops and his shoulders sink before he stammers and looks away, ducking back inside his room like he’s the one who shouldn’t be here.

“I’m, uh… sorry, I’ll just—“

“Leon, wait...!"

You cross the distance in seconds flat and catch his wrist just as he’s halfway enveloped back in the dark of his room.

“I… I came here to see you.”

end notes: pls infer that you and leon made sweet, comforting love all night long :) or that he violently fucked your brains out without krauser there to make him hold back. whichever