could you do like a chad kaplan nsfw imagine from the first resident evil movie ? thanks !
Note: Takes place at end of first movie. Warning, seems like happy-to-be-alive sex at first then gets much darker. Contains body horror.
Imagine Kaplan licking you after you save him from the Licker.
If you hadn’t known any better, you would have assumed the injection had contained an aphrodisiac. Because why else would Kaplan be so ravenous for your approval?
He’s just so relieved to be alive.
Even with beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, his skin was nowhere as soaked as your panties, which were now hanging out casually betwixt your knees. Bent over, you could feel his perspiring brow rest on your ass. He signed blissfully, before pressing his sweaty palms against your buttocks, giving them a handful of squeezes each.
Then he got back to work. Two thumbs parted your labia, his tongue plunging into your gap instead of lapping at your clit. You thought about diddling yourself. Then decided against it, not wanting to reach ecstasy quite yet.
Alice was the one who jabbed him with the antivirus, you remembered, as Kaplan ate your pussy from the back. Your hands braced against glass. Thank God it was reinforced. The adrenaline had left your body, when you realized you were safe(r). Now it came roaring back in excitement at the soldier’s wet applications to your snatch. He should be thanking her.
Where is she, anyway? With Matt?
Shoveling your essence into his beyond eager mouth, his tongue then extended further than expected.
Chad Kaplan hadn’t done anything so juvenile as lick his lips at the sight of you. Even though he’d been very, very interested since your introduction. He was a professional. It’d been an emergency. So you were pleasantly surprised you both shared Gorlin’s sign. Not that he would’ve guessed it, seeing as you both had been modest up until when he’d taken your face in his hands, kissed your forehead, and directly asked if he could perform cunnilingus.
It was odd hearing someone who, to your knowledge, was normally so composed—even in a life or death situation—just lose himself completely.
Kaplan’s (para)military, though. Or was. For an unethical pharmaceutical company. An onslaught of monsters and mutated people couldn’t shake him.
An IT guy, you concluded, has to remain calm in emergencies.
Just as you were pondering whether to grab his hair and throw yourself backwards on his face, he stopped. Neither of you spoke. Don’t be shy now, C.K. Then he licked your thigh. Tongue feeling wider than it had inside you. You chalked that up to the fact he’d been trying to stick it up there as deep as possible. (Make out with my cervix lol, ew.) It was pressed flat. Savoring you.
A split second later you peeked down and spotted a bandaid on your left cheek.
Oh yeah, I was injected, too.
At some point.
It was hard to keep track of everything that had happened since the train ride, your mind fuzzy with lust as it was.
Your lover continued tentatively licking your thigh, like he was struggling to decide his next move. Frowning in confusion, but not reluctance, you noted his appendage was actually coiling around your leg. How freaking long is it? you thought, amazed as he dipped into your underwear. Comparing your initial discharge to the stuff he was getting straight from the source. Then he pulled your panties straight down your calves and dove in again.
You almost yelped when he finally made you sit on his face. Tongue continuously writhing inside. Putting your faith in his uncanny strength, you lifted one hand from the window to cover your mouth. When you removed it, strands of drool connected your lips and fingers. Probably how Kaplan’s fingers would look if his mouth wasn’t engulfing your gash. The idea of getting digitally fucked made you shudder. Not quite in pleasure. His nails were really digging into your hips.
Am I high?
You were basically using him as a stool. He was sturdy. Still, you figured it was only polite to bend forward, so as not to cut off his air supply. Though something told you he’d hold his breath ad hoc. It was like he’d been born for this. To become a licker.
Licker. That word brought back a memory.
“Well,” a man in a white lab coat explained, “you owe us a Licker. With interest.”
You tried to protest, but it was hard to be taken seriously restrained as you were, in stirrups and cuffs. Zero modesty. The staff seemed equally split between ignoring you and openly leering at your spread privates. And the cold, sterile room left your nipples ever hard. You couldn’t so much as shift an elbow to conceal them.
At one point another doctor (?) sauntered in and cupped your vulva without warning. When he placed a thumb on your perineum, you begged him to remove it. Wary of his intentions. Nobody had done anything to really hurt (read bruise) you yet. Aside from the IV. No telling what was in it.
You were hushed, told “you’re not getting penetrated so get your mind out of the gutter.” Then you noticed the syringe.
“‘No penetration’?!”
“No digital penetration,” he drawled. “For now.”
Umbrella Corp only hired personnel that, if not ignorant, lacked ethics. Even when it came to obstetrics.
Eyes wide, you saw what lay beyond the glass. Your rendezvous with Chad Kaplan wasn’t as consensual as you’d thought it was. He honestly liked you, though you believed he wouldn’t be doing this in front of an audience if he had a choice. In fact, if everything went according to plan, you figured, the former computer whiz would be too territorial to…
What? Let others around his nest? His mate?
Lickers didn’t generally attack each other, unless they were fighting over prey. Which you were, in a way. Though there wasn’t enough research into their mating habits.
Hence why I’m here, you shuddered as Kaplan ground his nose into your taint. Another memory from your last encounter with an Umbrella employee flitted in.
“Welcome to the Licker Breeding Program.”
Kaplan, of course, was no longer an employee. He was a test subject. Like you.
Your juices were getting everywhere. Before his tongue finally withdrew, fast as a tape measure. You tried to settle your feet flat on the floor again, hands once again braced against the window. Like you were about to be subjected to a pat down. Kaplan paused again. Why, you didn’t know.
It staved off an orgasm, though. Gave you time to ponder Alice and Matt’s location. With a sinking heart, you remembered Matt had been carted off to the Nemesis Program. Whether that was part of Umbrella’s propagation efforts, you couldn’t say. Probably something in “defense.” Hopefully he was in a far off lab. And ignorant of your degradation.
An image of an amnesiac girl being unknowingly mounted by a mutated Matt popped into your head. This infernal corporation wanted your memories intact while you were being bred. Even if they initially had to sedate you. You couldn’t say the same for Alice, a skilled combatant. Even more reason to make her birth supersoldiers.
Vaguely aware of Kaplan’s heavy breath, you actually rested your cheek against the window. Uncaring if it left a smudge. You reached down to pat his head. Then stopped when your fingers grazed his forehead. Unblinking, you slowly met his gaze. Kaplan’s forehead had begun to split.
No visible brain matter yet, but solid claws jutted out of where his fingernails should’ve lain flat. Blood beaded on your scratchmarks. It was a testament to his remaining humanity that your hip flesh hadn’t been sliced to ribbons.
You could readily imagine what he’d look like once the mutation was complete. Imagined him sniffing at his moulted skin, then quickly losing interest. Because he was already past any courtship rituals. Already well-acquainted with this mate. Who could be sedated if she wasn’t “in the mood.”
You frowned at the scientist who stood condescendingly on the other side of the glass. As your head cleared, you started to formulate revenge fantasies. If only you could interrogate him for a few minutes!
“Be thankful we found your DNA best for being an incubator, not a monster.”