#carlos oliveira

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Alright gang I’m feeling silly so I made y’all some funny quote memes

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil ada wong #re4 ada #ada wong #resident evil claire #claire redfield #luis serra #carlos oliveira #re4r luis #re4r leon #re4 leon #jill valentine #re3 jill #re3 carlos #re2 claire #re4 ashley #chris redfield #ashley graham #re6 chris #ashley graham re4 #resident evil incorrect quotes #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 3

[dumbstupidlameo]

AFTER HOURS

NSFW 18+ MDNI

ft Carlos Oliveira x Female Reader

content: [ 2.5K words, spit kink, spanking, finger sucking, pet names (babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, etc), mouth spitting, manhandling, crying, subtle humiliation, mating press, vaginal sex, semi public sex (there’s no one around) ]

The locker room was dimly lit, which created an uneasy atmosphere, and an unnatural stillness bleeding into the air, which was hard to ignore as you changed out of your UBCS uniform. You stood yourself into the soothing stream of the shower. You could feel the warm water gently caressing your skin. The sensation of the water cascading down your body washing away any lingering stress, leaving you with a sense of relief and renewal.

Facing the shower head with your eyes closed, letting the warmth splash your face, and running your fingers through your hair, you allowed your nails to run down your skin, grazing it lightly, turning around to let the water soothe your back. The shower room was steamy and damp, and the air was humid and thick, Your thoughts drifted away, leaving you with the vivid sensations of him. You've fantasized about him countless times. This was almost no different...

Your thoughts were plagued by images of him. You were attracted to his commanding, confident persona, the playful mockery he directed toward you, his big strong arms, the way the veins in his biceps pulsated. You daydreamed about what it'd be like for him to manhandle you, being pushed and thrown around like you were nothing, being held firmly into place wherever he’d want you.

Fuck, the thought of him making you cry sent thrills down your spine, you wanted him you hold you by your jawline and let his thumb smear your lipstick across your face and watch as your mascara would run down your cheeks. You imagined the pride he'd have in himself for the mess he'd make of you.

You stepped out of the shower, cool air hitting your body, sending chills down your spine as you reached for a towel and wrapped it around your still-damp physique. You walked towards the foggy mirror and wiped your palm across its surface, revealing your reflection. You gazed at yourself longingly.

You had plans tonight.

You were convinced that you and Carlos were the only ones in the building. The sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway added to the sense of anticipation and excitement that filled you. You anxiously made your way to the break room, hoping that Carlos was already there waiting for you. Taking a deep breath, you reached for the door knob, your pulse quickened with excitement and anticipation. Pushing the door open, you take a deep breath before taking that first step into the break room

The break room was illuminated only to a minimal degree, adding to its tense and brooding atmosphere.

There he sat on the sofa, hands resting on either side of his lap, and his thighs were parted in a man-spread. Playfully, he teased, "I almost thought you were a no-show." This only added to the nervousness that was sitting deep in your lower stomach, now washing over your entire body and making you feel exceptionally hot inside and out.

Sure, you were anxious, but you couldn't let him know that. Instead, you exhaled out your nose and brought a flirtatious smile to your lips that was involuntarily and nervously quivering with the anticipation that inundated you from the inside.

You watched as his gaze wandered over your physique before settling back to your eyes

Fuck, the way he looked at you made your stomach flip — if only you could see into his mind to unveil his messy entanglement of thoughts he kept of you.

It was wrong, and you really should've known better than to have a work affair, let alone to have an at work, work affair, but you needed something to captivate him, something to reel him in something risky to capture his interest in you like you had captured for him already,

You were pretty proud of yourself, to say the least.

There was a distinct feeling of guilt and remorse creeping in as well in your gut, both because it was improper and because of the potential consequences — but alas, you quickly decided this was something worth losing your job over.

Your senses are apprehended by the adrenaline rush of sneaking around with your counterpart, watching him lay back on the sofa, thighs parted and eyes gradually roaming your body —

He lightly patted his thigh; that was an invitation you thought, and you so willingly accepted.

Taking another step forward, you were stopped in your tracks by an authoritative-sounding voice -- him. "Wait," he said, stopping you cold. You looked up at him in fear, his words causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I want you to get down and crawl to me.” He said in almost a commanding tone “How does that sound, baby?" He spoke a bit softer that time and your heart skipped a beat at the thought of complying.

Your body was trembling as you got down on your hands and knees, and you reluctantly began to crawl towards him as he demanded. Your stomach was in knots as you tried to ignore the humiliation of his order and gradually moved towards him every step reminding you of who was in control.

Inching forward towards Carlos, you found yourself looking up at him from between his legs with your head tilting slightly back. You placed one of your hands playfully upon one of his knees, letting the heat transfer through the fabric of his pants through the touch. You begin to gradually inch your hands closer to his thighs, causing him to forcefully grab you by the jaw and bring your face closer to his “Not yet sweetheart” he whispered into your ear; his breath against your neck, you couldn’t see his face but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

Instead, he took a more active approach as he guided your body up where you straddled him in his lap. Both his hands rested firmly on your hips and fuck, you could feel your heartbeat pulsating in your pussy.

He took your jaw once again in his hand, this time with a sweeter touch, his thumb rubbing against your cheek until it made its way to rub over your bottom lip where it made an almost circling motion, you parted your lips just slightly enough for him to sink his thumb inside — you wrapped your lips around his thumb sucking him in slowly and tantalizingly. Your eyes fluttered shut. It all felt like slow motion with the pressure of him holding you so firm against him while he started to grind the tint in his pants up against your now throbbing pussy.

Carlos tilted your head back gently, his thumb now wet from your saliva, barely escaping as he ran it across your now plump bottom lip. Parting them a bit. He leaned closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, which were slightly ajar. He hesitated for a moment, his breath quickened with the desire of you. Finally, leaning over, he hastily spat directly between your lips and into your mouth. The feeling of his salvia dripping down your bottom lip, sliding gradually down your chin, made your pussy clench around nothing, Carlos noticing this gave him a proudful look that plastered across his face “Like that baby girl?” he asked you with that same look on his face,

“God yes” you whined to him while nodding

“That's a good girl” he smiled like he was genuinely proud of you. “Now bend over my lap? Yeah?”

Your body tensed at his words as you opened your mouth to speak, your eyes widened, your pupils dilating in anticipation of what was to come. Your breath hitched, and you choked out a broken “yes” to accept his request, bending over Carlos’ lap, arching your back just right so your ass was proudly up in the air for him. Using one hand, he grabbed along the waistband of your pants, slightly tugging on them “This good for you, sweetheart?”

“Please” you pathetically whimpered out, embarrassed by your own response. You turned your head away from him.

Carlos is practically ripping your pants off you now,

You felt every nerve in your body screaming as he took advantage of your vulnerable position by delivering a hard, sharp, sharp slap to your bare ass causing you to nearly scream out. Your breath came out in a gasp from

The sudden impact and the sensation left you numb, your body tensing as you arched your back instinctively.

Without hesitation, he immediately brought another much more harsh smack to your ass this time you felt the slap on your pussy, it stung so fucking good you felt tears welling up in your eyes and you were pretty sure the wetness from your soaked cunt was all over Carlos’ hand now.

“Please! Please, please, Carlos!” You desperately begged for him pitifully in a whining mutter. Carlos, being the gentleman he is, roughly throws you over his shoulder before practically slamming you onto the sofa he was once sitting on. Your back collided harshly with the leather material, the fall knocking the breath out of you— you felt so powerless compared to him, and it made your whole body tingle and your pussy fucking ache.

You panted desperate to get your breath back. He kneeled in between your thighs on the sofa fondling with his belt. You bit your lip, hard, your lips still tasting like Carlos’ spit. You looked up at him, pulling his belt off and tossing it to the side. As you watched him start to unbutton his pants, you felt your own hands wander down to your chest as you squeezed and played with your tits— Carlos - loving the performance you were putting on slid up your shirt using his other hand while you unclasped your bra for him pulling it off and tossing it to the side along with his belt.

Carlos’ breath hitched, looking down at your tits. Your gaze slid down his body, seeing the tint in his pants twitch, Fuck, you needed him.

With one hand he pulled his cock out, it leaked precum; the wetness glistening off of it made your insides twist and turn, with the other hand he slid up your body to play with your tits “So fucking pretty aren't you?” he uttered while stroking himself above you.

You chuckled breathlessly, smiling up at him.

Carlos, with his hands on your tits squeezing and kneading them, admiring how good they look with the way your chest is rising and falling with your quick frantic breaths.

He stroked himself, twisting his wrist as he slid his palm up and down his stiffened cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip collecting his precum to lubricate his dick as he does so.

Leaning over you, he hastily spits directly on your tits using the thumb of his other hand to rub his saliva all over your hard nipples. Using his thumb and middle finger, he flicks your nipple harshly, sending what feels like electricity through your veins, stimulating nerves you didn't know you had. You arched your hips and desperately grabbed onto the sofa.

Lightly chuckling to himself at your reaction and now possessively and firmly grabbing your hips with the hand he's not stroking himself with, he brings you close and lines your hips together “Fuck” he grunts out “I can't resist you” he mutters, his voice low and husky before taking his cock that's in his hand and rubbing the tip deliberately against your puffy clit causing you involuntarily thrust your hips towards him even more.

“Shh,” Carlos whispers gently leaning down over you, you can feel his breath against your exposed body, he presses open-mouth kisses on your neck and chest as a way to comfort you, the gesture is comforting yet undeniably intimate as he finally starts sliding himself inside between your wet folds, filling in your greedy pussy with his hard twitching with excitement cock.

“Fuck, Fuck” you pant out excitedly up at him, he returns the excitement chuckling playfully down at you smiling “Mm..” he murmurs delighted by your reactions as he begins to pump his cock in and out of your pussy that's clenching onto him for dear life,

enjoying the intimacy of being close to you, he grabs you by your legs that are on either side of him pushing them forward almost above your head, pinning you firmly into place. He leans closer to you, his chest against yours trapping you into a mating press. His face rests against your neck, and you can feel his rapid breathing against your skin as he rambles praises to you, telling you how fucking good you feel taking his cock inside your pretty pussy, “So fucking..” he strugglingly grunts out “Taking it so fucking well aren’t you baby girl?”

“Yes! god, yes, I am” you cry to him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you desperately cling your arms around Carlos’ neck.

He moves his face more forward towards you, resting his forehead against yours.

You can feel each other's hot breaths against one another. The whole scene is so intimate and affectionate, and you can feel warmness pooling in the pits of your stomach, your nerves becoming more erratic and euphoric, and you can tell by the way his hips are stuttering against yours that he's becoming closer and closer.

You can feel the sensation coursing through your veins as you involuntarily start thrusting your hips toward him, matching his rhythm as you both fuck yourselves together.

You felt your eyes fluttering shut, fuck you can't keep it up much longer, it felt as if every nerve in your body was on fire.

His hand affectionately caresses your cheek, triggering a response in you as you open your eyes to look up at him. The tension is rising between you both, dangerously close to reaching a breaking point. He leans in slowly toward you, his body pressing tightly into yours. As your faces come close together, inches from each other, he kisses you softly on your lips.

Your pussy clenched around his cock swallowing him so right sending you over the edge as you gripped your nails into his back scratching down and crying to him “Oh, Carlos, oh baby” you whimpered out pitifully as he used his free hand to rub circles around your puffy clit, you arched and practically screamed as you came hard all over his dick — he pulled out still frantically rubbing circles around your clit that was crying from the overestimation, with his cock in his hand wet from your cum he uses it to stroke himself hastily above you until he's come to his release, his cock shooting out white streaks of warm cum all over your stomach, some even shooting up to your tits — he collapses next to you, the two of you in a desperate attempt to catch your breaths.

The after moment is tinged with an atmosphere of intimacy. Laying next to you, he softly caresses your cheek, prompting you to look his way. He's still out of breath, his breathing heavily panting. "You were so beautiful," he breathes out to you, his gaze intent. It's a moment of pure intimacy, the two of you smiling and chuckling to each other as the intensity of everything finally subsides.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveria x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #carlos oliveria smut #leon kennedy #chris redfield

[larvamars]

sillies

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #emo!leon #carlos oliveira #punk!carlos #resident evil #fanart #artwork #art #resident evil 4 #resident evil 3

[homicidal-slvt]

"I could fix him"

Ok but- what if he could fix me? What if a single hug from him would make it all feel better?

#vee's random thoughts go brr #karl heisenberg #leon s kennedy #luis serra navarro #steve burnside #carlos oliveira #chris redfield #ethan winters #piers nivans #jake muller #simon riley #kyle garrick #johnny mactavish #john price #phillip graves #alex keller #nikolai cod #jason voorhees #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair

[adarku]

playing resident evil is very stressful because there are monsters and hot people everywhere

#resident evil #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #leon s kennedy #ada wong #claire redfield #chris redfield #karl heisenberg #lady dimitrescu #dimitrescu sisters #luis serra #1k

[princerevenant]

"That was all Carlos. He carried you here and he treated you himself, crazy bastard."

here is my guest piece for Remembrance zine!

#resident evil #re3 #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #valeveira #remembrance zine #re3 remake

[navstuffs]

How would Leon Kennedy and Carlos Oliveira react to a GN!Reader who gets lazy/tired while on top

author's notes: there is a meme around tumblr that says, "horse pretends to be dead every time it needs to go on a ride." so yeah, this is sorta where this idea came from.

(NSFW +18 UNDER CUT)

Leon Kennedy

Leon knows you will get tired as soon as you offer to be on top. He watches as your hips snap lazily against his, keeping a short set of pace that doesn't make his whole cock disappear inside of you. He is focused on your pleasure expression, eyes semi-open, and wrinkled forehead. You look adorable and irresistible, he thinks. Leon's hands hold lightly in your hips as yours hold into his shoulders for support.

You try to fasten the pace even with your legs complaining, be a good lover, and not get lazy. You got this. You are in total control and enjoying yourself as you ride your boyfriend's dick.

But you both know you need more friction, and Leon has noticed the pout forming on your lips.

"Honey? Can I move now?" Leon asks, and you are almost tempted to say no. But your sex is eager to be touched, and you know you won't be able to keep up much longer.

Poor Leon, you think, as he pleads with his eyes, begging you to allow him to take control.

When you nod, a little embarrassed of your performance, all thoughts vanish from your mind when Leon changes the angle of his legs and starts to hit a spot that makes you see stars. Again. And again.

"Feeling good?" Leon grunts, and you roll your eyes, mumbling a yes.

He doesn't stop, just snaps faster inside you, his thrusts not faltering for one moment. Leon likes to watch you melt in his arms, biting his lips as he continues hitting that delicious spot that makes you moan louder. It is with pride and possessiveness feeling on his heart that Leon knows only he gets you to feel like that. No one else.

His hands grab your asscheeks, and you have to hold tight to his shoulders, his shirt, anything, so you don't lose your mind. He leaves you a blabbering mess, with incoherent thoughts and desperate moans imploring for more, if it is even possible.

"That is it, honey. That is it" Leon whispers satisfied, your body just clay on his hands. You would let him do whatever he wants with you at this point. One of your hands goes instinctively to your sex, rubbing it, desperate to feel your release.

It doesn't take long for you to cum, Leon's whimpers of encouragement being the last straw. Your whole body shakes as you moan his name, and you feel Leon hiding his face into your neck, marking you as his as he cums.

You both remain like this until Leon licks the spot he bit, whispering close to your ear.

"My turn to be on top next."

Carlos Oliveira

Carlos's hands grip tight into your hips as you slowly sit on his cock. Your hands are on his chest, your eyes closed for better focus as you move down, his cock burying deep inside of you. Though lubricated enough, Carlos is still big. That's why he doesn't complain when you take him slowly, your hands using his chest as support. He doesn't mind, and he prefers like that until you get used to his size. The movements keep slow and torturous, and Carlos is confused if you are trying to kill him now.

"What are you doing? Are you okay?" Carlos asks, his voice expressing concern as he scans your face. "I am not hurting, am I?"

"No."

As you continue the slow pace, Carlos tests by moving his hip once, and you bite your lips. He does it again, making you moan.

"Do you want me to move?" Carlos tries because he seriously tries to let you do what you want but needs more. He needs to bury himself deeper inside you.

"Am I not doing a good job?" Your tone sounds hurt, and Carlos tries to explain himself.

"That isn't what I am mean-" That's when he realizes your big naughty grin. 

You don't answer, and Carlos wonders if that isn't exactly what you want. He pulls his legs up, bringing your body down into his chest, and thrusts his hips fast inside you, not stopping. Carlos adds more strength in every thrust. You want to move your hands for support, but Carlos uses one hand to grip your arms behind your back, and you can't move.

He keeps ramming into you, the headboard hitting the wall. Carlos likes to watch your eyes roll into your head, your leaking sex rubbing against his pubic hair, bringing him even more over the edge.

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

You can't even form a sentence to answer him, so close to your orgasm as you are. When you finally cum, screaming Carlos's name, it doesn't take long for him to follow you. He groans loudly, biting your shoulder and holding you tight in his arms, letting every drop of his seed inside you.

After taking a moment to relax, you flop to his side of the bed, gasping for air. Carlos gives you a side-eye as he wonders, curious.

"What was that?"

"Just trying to tease you," but Carlos knows there is more. He turns to your side, that face of his knowing you are hiding something. You admit, defeated. "Fine. I got lazy."

"You should have told me" Carlos brings you close to his body, kissing the top of your forehead. "I wouldn't have any problem getting on top."

You nod in answer, nuzzling into his chest happy and satisfied.

#leon kennedy x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #leon kennedy x you #carlos oliveira x you #leon kennedy smut #carlos oliveira smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #carlos oliveira #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #carlos oliveira imagine #carlos oliveira fanfic #the preparation for the ot3 slowly comes #i swear when i put those three together i will destroy them

[kaychen666]

YAY✌️ 

#leon kennedy #helena harper #ada wong #carlos oliveira #rebecca chambers #albert wesker #kay's art

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART SIX !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 12.3k.

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, gender neutral reader, smut (not involving reader), murder, death, violence/gore, suic1dal tendencies, suic1de attempt, alcoholism, weaponry, panic attacks, ptsd, hallucinations, & sleep paralysis.

leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .

clingy, heroic, & territorial

──── Leon Kennedy hates sunlight in his eyes. Yet still, he finds himself basking in the warm rays.

When the sun hits the window just right, ensnaring the room in its golden hues, he bathes in its light the same way he'd lay in a hot bath. The lulling warmth melts his muscles and eases his body. After he falls asleep in the office after another unsuccessful investigation, your sunset is there for him. When he passes out after a drunken night at the bar, your sunrise is there for him. You're looking down at him always, embracing him in splotches of sunlight.

For a while, Leon thought he knew what it meant to be alive. To touch the hands of guttural pain; to feel the jagged juts of his past nestle against him. But, after that horrid night six years ago, after the exposure to sunshine he did not know existed, he truly touched the scorching surface of rock bottom.

And it is killing him. All because of a singular person.

Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.

Leon remembers your exuberant eyes, your adorable mannerisms, the glimmer of your smile; he will never forget how you sparked the beginning of his life in Raccoon City.

He remembers the orange lights had swayed in his vision. How everything was stuck in a blistering sea of vertigo. Listening to the fire crackle and creatures groan, Leon coughs from the tickle caught in his throat. There is a weight pressed to his chest, something akin to a cushion. White. Artificial fabrics, a plastic touch. An airbag, maybe?

September 28th of 1998. The memories all return to him like a violent supercut. The yell of his name, the squeal of the brakes, the collision afterward. His precious Jeep Wrangler had now been flipped upside down and he was now caught in the savagery of the aftermath. The blood rushing to his head has the world swirling around him, lulling him into another state of unconsciousness. Leon touches the passenger seat with his red hands, terror ensnaring him upon realizing the seat was empty.

Something blurry in his trail of vision grips his attention. Through the shattered window, a figure stumbles through the brume of the flickering streetlights. Blue glares frame the dirt-stained "R.P.D" sign and the figure hastens towards its doors.

A whimper of your name is stuck on his tongue, as words get trapped in his congested throat. Don't leave me. In Leon's efforts to escape, his foot gets caught on the gear shift. He pulls with all his might, despite the twists and strains his ankle endures. Y/N, please don't. Shards of glass fall from his hair as he wrestles his way out. A few pieces manage to leave shallow nicks against his flesh. Come back to me.

Leon then plummets to the wet pavement, finally free of his demolished car. Frivolous debris and fresh corpses litter his path. His newly-purchased white sneakers (which he bought solely to show off to you) are splattered in the disgusting matter. Stumbling, he is able to persevere through all of this and he quickly trudges through the wreckage.

Leon barrels through the doors of the R.P.D. and surges through the police department. Bullets pierce through the skulls of pedestrians and coworkers roaming the building. Blood paints his body like rainfall. All while he is searching for the face that will end the torment reigning havoc through his mind.

The holding cells are inspected thoroughly while Leon's disposition is one of acute desperation. The adjacent areas are consumed with infected prisoners, all of which he promptly executes. Much to his dismay, however, the rookie does not find you sitting at a bench or clinging to the rusted bars. It is all empty, leading him to become more frantic in his search for you.

Something navy blue then captures his attention. Left on the floor of a cell is a name tag. Something small and wet with blood.

Leon takes the object into his fingers. His heart wrenches when he reads the name stamped on the plastic. The familiar "Mizoil Gas Station" is printed above "Y/N L/N".

A gasp fills the empty silence. Y/N... Where did you go? Why did you leave me?

"Hey.”

He jerks around to the intruding voice.

"Who is that?"

"Stay sharp."

Behind him is a rotting face with dead, paper-white eyes staring right through him. The zombie towers over him, growling for a bite. Leon yanks Matilda from his holster. The action is swift. Adept. Exactly the way he was trained. The echo of a gunshot permeates through the large expanse and fuses with the squelching sounds of brain matter oozing from the zombies' open skull. The corpse falls to the grimy floors with a thud and once more, silence returns.

The click of stiletto heels treads closer to Leon. On the threshold of the prison cell, a woman walks into his train of vision.

Ada Wong.

Finally, a human! Leon thinks to himself. He is quick to take advantage of the company of a normal, uninfected person. The pestering questions he has all tumble out out his mouth like an avalanche of blabbering nonsense.

"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone!"

Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.

"My name is Leon Kennedy."

He takes a breath before continuing.

"The person I'm looking for- they, um- they're about... this tall." He holds his flat hand up to demonstrate your height. "Their eyes are Y/E/C. Well, maybe not like an exact shade of Y/E/C. It's more like a softer, prettier-"

She scoffs, cutting him off from his incessant rambling. Turning her heel, Ada begins to walk away from the pathetic mess she stumbled upon.

"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”

The woman halts.

“Y/N L/N! Please, you have to help me find them!"

Body tense, her eyes peer at him through the dark barrier of her sunglasses. Her arms weaken, once sternly folded over her beige trench coat.

"They're my partner... Please..."

Ada's lips part. From them, a sharp inhale.

Leon begs her with desperate worry, encompassed in a vehement frame of mind. His plead is spoken with such clarity, Ada can only assume it as truth. And the prospect of you belonging to someone else cuts like a dull knife. It is gross, it is nauseating. Unnatural. Like worms slithering around in her stomach, trying to escape the heart-shattering effect this information has on her.

Then, there is the anger. The betrayal is like a song too loud, the resentment like sheer alcohol on her tongue. Everything manifests into a spirit so overwhelming that Ada cannot find air to breathe. This blanket of rage stirs with her sorrow like two conflicting chemicals. The reaction sparks something iniquitous.

So, in turn, she does what she does best.

Lie.

"Y/N is dead."

A silence settles in the room.

Leon stares. That is all he does.

He stares at Ada and tries to scrutinize her to find some other truth. Anything other than this.

"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."

Ada speaks with defective emotion. The words land mercilessly and hit with ruthless force.

A harsh ringing noise permeates around Leon. He covers his ears, blunt nails digging into his scalp. He shakes his head no, as though he merely disagrees with fact. It's not true. It can't be! Losing grasp on the only good thing in his life is something he will not accept. He refuses to.

You are his sun. What is existence without its warmth? What will happen to Earth without its necessity?

How can he possibly survive without you?

Ada rolls her eyes at the dramatic scene now playing out at her hand. She ignores her own hypocrisy, of course. If she had learned of your demise, only God knows what blood-curdling reaction she would have. When it comes to Leon, however, every blink of his eye and twitch of his muscle has her riddled with irritation. Does he not know how lucky he is? Ada would endure any pain if she knew she had the comfort of calling you her lover. It is a dream she would kill to make reality.

Leon soon collapses to the floor. A shot of pain courses through his knees from landing harshly on the cement. His hand clutches over his heart, absolutely gutted by the torment forced upon the organ.

Ada then leaves this lie where she puts it down. She struts out of the prison cell, thus continuing her search for wherever in Raccoon City you may be.

You do not need a boyfriend. Especially one as pathetic as Leon Kennedy.

The man in question has been rendered into a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Questions still fill the silent air. How, when, why? Why did it have to be you? The one person on this disgusting planet who did not deserve it. Why couldn't you have just stayed with him and let him devote his life to protecting the precious gem of your life? Why? Why? Why?

Leon has already lost so much, you were the very last thing keeping him afloat. You are his life preserver in the middle of the ocean. He has now succumbed to the thrashing waves, as he was always destined to be swallowed by the sea. Saltwater permeates his lungs and his limp body sways with the lulling current. As though this is what his life was always meant to be: crawling after happiness just to have it yanked away when he gets too close. In the end, his sugar-sweet delusions will always sink down to the ocean floor.

Tears do not escape Leon, no matter the weight of the pain. He does not care for anything but you. Now that you have left him, nothing else matters. Therefore, no emotion can be elicited from him anymore. He has been touched so violently by this intensity, it eradicated any surviving nerves.

His handgun had been left on the ground, a few feet away from him. Assumably falling from his grasp after his knees gave out. He takes the weapon and it shivers in his trembling grasp. It's blurry in his gaze, as his entire vision is overwhelmed with stupor. Should he? God knows he wants to. What is there left to experience in life without you there with him?

As he guides the barrel of his gun to his temple, the static ringing in his ears accelerates in volume. Somehow, though, Leon does not feel fear. He does not feel anything. No dread, no despair — just sheer, hollow nothingness. It infuses his entire body like a roaming virus, ensuring it does not leave any traceable fragments of emotion.

A quivering finger hovers over the trigger. One pull and he will be free.

Leon presses his finger down.

Click.

Nothing.

Click. Click. Click.

Nothing happens.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

"FUCK!"

Leon chucks the gun to the ground. His yell comes out guttural, a touch away from being a growl.

The clatter of Matilda's impact is not enough to appease him, as this swamped nothingness is more than he can endure. In a fit of defeat, Leon balls his fists and punches the cement floor. Agony surges through his entire hand and blood smudges his knuckles. The sound of his bones cracking still does not satisfy him in the slightest. Nothing can aid him now. Absolutely nothing.

With heavy legs, Leon stands to his feet. He holds his broken fist close to his chest and limps out of the empty prison cell. As he meanders through the station, he finds a set of car keys to a police cruiser on the corpse of his former co-worker. Despite claiming the title of "hero" when he first earned his badge, he does not intend to help anyone tonight. He couldn't save the only thing he ever loved, what kind of hero fails to do that?

The screaming of pedestrians and desperate pleas for help fall on deaf ears. The vehicle's engine rumbles and Leon's dead eyes stare at the road ahead. He leaves Raccoon City forever in his dust.

Six years have passed since the night you were taken from him. Leon wants to die, that much is for certain. The only thing preventing him from giving in is the fact that people need him. They all fail to see that he needs you, as he always will. Besides, he’s got some last few words he wishes to tell Umbrella before he bids this life farewell.

This is his life now. And in a morbid way, he thinks it is romantic. He read somewhere that if a swan dies, their surviving mate will fly into the sky and let themselves plummet to their death. Is that you and him? Should he put the final puzzle piece in your happily-ever-after and end it all? When the sun shines through the window and he wakes up without you again, however, Leon cannot romanticize the empty shell he is trapped within. He is desperate to know why you couldn't have taken his body with you on your way to heaven. Why death couldn’t have brought him eternal peace the very second you passed.

These several years have been spent drowning in alcohol. Leon has no preference for whatever booze he consumes, either. Anything that will make him forget it all will do the trick. At the bar with concerned bartenders or in his almost-empty liquor cabinet at home — he’ll take whatever he can get his hands on.

All his nights are now spent beneath the golden lights of the local bar. Dawn is spent crying on the kitchen floor with a queasy stomach. His days are all the same, too. Saving the lives of helpless citizens, he never forgets how the glimmer of gratitude in their eyes should have been yours.

This night in particular was no different. Leon has nearly drunk the entire bar's alcohol supply in hours. He imbibes a glass of whiskey and cringes at the cheap taste. Too sweet. Poorly made. He does not mind this, however, as anything that can ease the pain is satisfactory enough. And just like any other night, Leon is thinking of you. He watches the ice cubes dance in the cup, arms lazily resting on the sticky countertop. If only things were different, then he wouldn't have to be in this shit-hole right now. He could spend all his nights with you, instead. God, he misses you.

"You look lonely."

Leon didn't have to look up from his glass to know what was happening. At a place like this, it was inevitable.

He never took to heart whenever his coworkers teased him with names such as "pretty boy" or "Leonardo DiCaprio." It seemed to be a "chick magnet," as they so called it. So, when another stranger approaches him with that familiar glint in their eye, he knows what they want from him.

"I can fix that."

Leon looks to where the woman is sitting beside him. Like he does with every courting, he searches her for any remnants of you. If he were honest with himself, these people served as a good distraction. Enough bottles and he can delude his fuzzy brain into believing it was you standing beside him instead of another stranger.

The sight is blurred from his intoxicated state, but his judgment is clear as day. Her face shape and height contrast from yours. She is an inch or two shorter. Her smirk is sensual, not as toothy and adorable as your vivacious smile. Her body is entirely different, as well. Too bony, with wonky proportions that were nothing like you. The only similarity was her eye color. Your exuberant shimmer was missing, but the collection of hues shared puny similarities.

Eh. Good enough.

"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"

The blaring sounds of heavy rock playing outside the motel room do not ease the headache Leon has, nor does the vociferous calamity of this woman. She doesn't sound anything like you. Too submissive, too goddamn insufferable. In his head, he can only imagine the dulcet sounds he could pull from your pretty lips. This woman was ruining that heavenly fantasy.

"I told you to be fucking quiet."

He uses his strength and pins her harder against the squeaking mattress. Insufferably irritating moans are muffled upon shoving that loud mouth into the pillows. Leon squeezes his eyes shut and puts all attention to the image he has painted in his mind.

You'd be different, much different. He can only imagine you beneath him like this. Harsh demands formed from your dulcet voice, commanding his every move and action. Telling your puppy dog to make you feel good with the promise of a reward — the thought alone never fails to send a shiver through his body. Leon is sure your golden voice praising him is all he needs to die happy.

"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"

The reverie shatters as quickly as it was formed. His calloused hands find the woman's hair and he forces her further into the pillows. She is not opposed to being treated roughly in the sheets, discernible in the way her moans and mindless babbles increase in volume.

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

Leon would be different, too. Much softer than this. He would handle every inch of your skin like he's unmasking an archeological masterpiece. God, he couldn't treat you roughly even if he wanted to. Ruin every orgasm of his, leave his body littered with bruises and scratches. He would be a slave to your every whim, as pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other. And in return, Leon would still touch your body with the same glass-like softness he is only ever capable of treating you with.

He buries his face into the stranger's shoulder and inhales the scent of their perfume. It is nauseating and nothing like you. Artificially sweet and too strong. Leon desperately fills the plot holes in his fantasy and imagines you dolling yourself up for him. Maybe after a tireless day at work, he would arrive home to you greeting him with a surprise. Where you got all dressed up for his eyes only and allowed him to indulge in your body again and again and again and again.

He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you call him your puppy, your husband, your good boy.

The thought sends him over the edge.

It is not a euphoric unfolding. It is sharp. Gross and weak. It is merely something to help him get by, even just barely. At least tonight Leon was able to finish inside a warm body instead of the plastic toy he keeps in his bedside drawer.

He doesn't even remember the name of this stranger. However, that doesn't matter when loud whines of your name jump out of his throat instead. The word tumbles from his mouth as though if he spoke it enough, you would materialize into this bed with him.

The unsatisfied woman does not overlook this. Another person's name shamelessly moaned by the man she thought she would have some late-night fun with, is he serious? She rolls her eyes and escapes from his sweaty hold. As she dresses herself, rehearsing how she'll tell this horror story to her friends, Leon stays on the bed. He does not try to stop her from leaving.

The afterglow is feeble, but he merely pretends it is as strong as he knows it would be with you. He wants to ensnare his body around yours and reaffirm just how deeply he loves you. He just wants to be with you again, no matter what the circumstances are. In the sheets after Earth-shattering sex with the love of his life or back in the grimy streets of Raccoon City, he will take anything if it means looking into your eyes again.

The door closes with a slam. Leon is now alone. But, then again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like, after all.

2,327 days and counting since he lost you.

If you asked him all that time ago where he thought he'd be right now, he would answer with the hope and happiness he only had then. He'd sit cozy in the little cabin in the woods you and he would occupy, he was sure of it. Summers would be spent in the sunlit lakes and Winters would be spent huddling for warmth by the fireplace. Years would pass like this. All laughter and kisses, snuggles, and healing hearts.

These fantasies haunt him like a horror-flick ghost floating around an attic, as it is what his life could have been had he not failed to protect you. He could have you in his arms this very second, but because of his God-awful driving skills, your body was left behind in the rubble of Umbrella's mistakes. It is what he devoted his entire career to now: tearing down that damned corporation. It is why he is in this motel room, to begin with, where he rots in these musty sheets and sleeps with people he can't remember the names of.

Images of you and him sharing smiles flicker through his brain and lull him. Your eyes are the last thing Leon sees before he falls asleep.

It is a light slumber. He does not dream, he is merely unconscious. When he wakes an hour later, it is like he has not slept at all. As if the short period of time passed in a sheer blink. This is what his sleeping schedule normally looks like nowadays, complemented by the heavy, storm-grey bags beneath his eyes.

The sheet draped over his waist leaves him cold. The Winter weather creeps into the room and engulfs his naked skin in goosebumps. When Leon tries to grasp more of the cheap blankets to drape himself in, he is at a loss when he finds himself unable to move. Almost as though a weight had forced him back onto the bed. He can't move even a muscle; he is wholly and utterly paralyzed.

There's a soft footstep that permeates. Leon's eyes dart around the room, but there is nothing to perceive in the dark emptiness. When he tries to open his mouth and question if that woman has returned, his jaw remains locked shut.

Another footstep. He searches for anything to defend himself from whatever monster lurks in the shadows.

Then, another step. There is no doubting someone is in this room with him. He tries to regain mobility of his body, scrambling to use his fists or to find his gun.

"Leon?"

Something blooms within him. A vibrant, healthy flower persevering through the fiery ashes.

"It's me..."

Home. That is the only word Leon could use to explain your voice. Like the swirling scent of oven-fresh cookies made by his grandmother. Like the imagination in his mother's voice when she read him a bedtime story. Like the scent of freshly mowed grass when he plays outside after school. The cadence and inflection of your words bring a sense of comfort like no other. Honey-sweet in the purest form.

Through the dust-ridden curtains, the hues of streetlight seep into one corner of the room. You step into the light, midnight shadows framing your features. You're dressed in the exact clothing he last saw you wearing, in the absence of all that blood and grime from that night. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes bore into him as you step closer. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, a smile grows on your lips and robs him of all coherent function.

Leon can't but wonder if this was it, if he had died on this disgusting motel bed and you were finally taking him back into your arms. He doesn't even mind losing all sense of mobility, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Neither his face nor his body can physically react to the rush of emotion that comes with your presence, but it is more than perceptible in his eyes. Sky-gray irises drowned in oceans of fervor. Baby blues overwhelmed with shimmering, flamboyant love.

"If only you had just heard me out, then I could actually be with you right now." Your words, as heavenly as they sound, confuse Leon.

You tuck some fallen wisps of blonde hair away from his face and he swears it is real. His heart hammers like a snare drum. This is real, it must be real, it has to be.

"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me. Then neither of us would be in this mess, would we?"

Something shifts in your gaze. That smile he loves so much is torn away and replaced with a scowl. There is now a perceptible rage in your expression, drowned in hollow emotion that clenches his heart.

"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!? Like everything we have means jack shit to you!"

No, no, no, no, no! It's not like that! She means nothing, she is nothing! He only used her as a placeholder for you! There isn't a single redeeming feature about her that compares to you. Jesus Christ, how could he want anyone else when you exist?

Leon tries to respond, he really does. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how badly he wishes he could go back six years and change it all. How many hours he has spent with his hands clasped in prayer, apologizing relentlessly to the sky and hoping you'll hear him from down here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.

You stand from the bed, hands balled into fists at your side. "You're not gonna say anything? Just lay there and look at me like I'm nothing but-!"

A figure then barrels at you from the shadows. Your infuriated rant was cut short with a gut-wrenching shout when you are knocked to the ground. Saturated flesh peeking from dead skin and groans of hunger plunging from their slack mouth — a zombie had leaped from the darkness and sunk its teeth into your shoulder. Blood spouts from your wound and cascades down your body. You plead for Leon to help you, that he not leave you behind like he did all those years ago. And so desperately, Leon tries to.

A scream is locked behind his closed mouth as he tries to wrestle his way back to you. It pries and fights to escape, as though the force of his shout would be enough to convince this brainless creature to leave you be. Eyes blown wide with dizzying panic, all he can do is watch. His toned chest, sheen with sweat, rises and falls with rapid movements. Muffled whimpers of horror escape from the subtle crease of his mouth.

With every beating second your life fades away, the more Leon latches to any vigor he can grasp. His efforts to save you are overwhelmed in sheer desperation. He cannot let this happen all over again; he cannot lose you a second time. It would kill him, he is sure of it.

Something twitches in his finger. Then his foot. And for a moment, hope flickers in his mind. He can save you and atone for what he failed to do before. When the squelching sounds of flesh torn asunder fill the silence, that hope wears thin.

Like a bag of sand, Leon is able to drag his limp body across the mattress. His jaw weakens, to where sounds of despair are granted the ability to escape in roaring fervency. Off the side of the bed with the speed of a slug, he hits the ground with a harsh thud. Hauling himself onto his stomach, a verbiage of your name leaves his mouth.

He begins to crawl helplessly to where you are, only to stop in his efforts when he finds nothing. The lights from outside still seep into the room and the racket sounds of rock music still play from a room over. But, you have vanished. Leon stares at where you had fallen, scrutinizing every detail for any resemblance of you.

Misery strikes like a gunshot through his chest. Why did he fail again? Why can't he be enough, even for just once?

Why do you always leave him in the end?

He is alone again. Sat by himself on top of the soiled motel carpet and used condom he had frivolously thrown across the room. But, once again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like. And now, it is what the rest of his life will likely be encompassed in — empty solitude and hopeless dreams of you.

Leon does not sleep for the rest of the night. He is far too restless from the stressful events, terrified of watching that scene play out all over again. The digital clock on the bedside table provided minimum light, where the vibrant red numbers tick away. All he does is lie in this mess, watching the hours drift away.

A dark blue soon ensnares the sky. Birds squawk and sing. Dawn has finally arrived and so does the sun, bathing the room in its glowing orange and pink hues.

Your sunrise welcomes him, once again. The warmth and its serenity fails to placate him, though. Sitting here, he realizes how much of a fool he was to believe it was you in some form. The very second you left, you took everything warm and bright with you. You left him cold and empty and lifeless. You nestled the sun behind your resting eyes when your life faded away.

Cuddling up with you in that imaginary cabin is the only thing that can vitalize him. Two cups of steaming tea, watching the wind sway through the trees from the porch. Oh, the things Leon would take to bring this fantasy to life. To bring you back into the warmth of his arms is all he could ever need, where you will be safe and forever alive.

6:02 AM on the clock, Leon is expected at work in the following hour. Without a morsel of energy left in his feeble body, the thought of standing on this grimy floor overwhelms him with disdain.

Despite how badly he wishes to beat all scientists involved with Umbrella to a bloody pulp, he must take a course of action that abides by legal standards. To do this, Leon must work behind the scenes, ensuring every nail and screw is fastened with flawless finesse. This slow journey toward his goal of tearing Umbrella to shreds has taken a toll on him. No punching bag to take his rage out and his anger nestles itself into his body. Once Umbrella is six feet under, only then will he grant himself permission to join you and let Earth reclaim his body.

Today, Leon is now a part of the Torrents: a Capture-Force team designated to take down Umbrella's rumored return and prosecute those working for them. He has been assigned to replace someone on the team upon their suspension for "severe mental issues,” or whatever that entails. Alcohol heavy on his breath and bags beneath his eyes, Leon arrives at work for the day. He walks through the doors of a sanctuary Umbrella was confirmed to have been located at but has since fled from.

"You're late."

Leon doesn't care to look at the voice, as he already acknowledged and dismissed the vibrant "7:39 AM" on his wristwatch. They should be grateful he was even here in the first place and not rotting in bed.

"Not exactly rooting for employee of the month. Do I look the type?"

Leon's comment causes him to let out a quick huff of laughter. This new guy is much more amusing than his previous coworker, after all.

"Tyrell. Call me 'T."

He takes his hand out for Leon to shake, which he ignores. Tyrell stuffs his hand back into his pocket upon his refusal to reciprocate. An awkward silence settles between them.

"Leon. But, you knew that already."

The blonde then walks away from his new acquaintance. He can't recall the last time he had one, no less a genuine friend. The only person he put honest effort into discerning was you. Everyone else was just painfully bleak background noise stood behind your radiant aura. There is no one in the universe he wishes to befriend anymore, not when you're gone.

Leon treads through the building in search of the office organized by the team. Working behind a desk provides him his wanted rest, but taking part in the action scene provides an acute distraction. With his hands covered in blood and his fingers reeking of gunpowder, it is the most peace he can feel. Punch after punch, shots upon shots — the thought of you is eased little by little. The memory of you still lives on, but it is ephemeral moments like this where Leon can forget it all.

Several workers walk through the halls with heavy boxes marked "EVIDENCE". Others photograph imperative scenery around them, while some are busy scribbling on their notepads. Leon passes all of them without a second thought. However, two of his coworkers in particular capture his attention.

They both guide a surviving patient through the hallway. A young man holding a file in his hands and a perceptible fear in his eyes. The man then swiftly, albeit pathetically, throws himself at Leon and the file is shoved against his chest upon impact. A few of the files' contents slip from the folder and splat against the tiled floors. Hands curled around the sheepskin hems of his jacket, the man begs Leon for his help.

"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone."

Leon's stare is harsh. Cold and empty. Any living creature would surely keel over beneath that terrifyingly vacant gaze. The man, riddled with desperation, perseveres through this fear and continues to plead.

"They're my best friend... Please..."

The guards quickly shuffle over to the scene. Their hands grip the man's shoulders, but do not apply any further pressure. They look to Leon, waiting for the demand of their superior.

And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.

"Get him out of my sight."

They do as told, nearly shoving the man to the ground in their efforts to escort him out of the building. The hopeless gleam in his eyes should have sparked some form of guilt within Leon. Looking into that man's eyes, however, he feels nothing. Leon instead shifts his gaze to the ground. There, right beneath his boot, the sight of something causes his heart to quicken. Swiftly taking it into his gloved hands, his breath is then yanked from his chest.

In the polaroid is no other than you.

Snow engulfs the ground and you’re dressed in a large coat that practically swallows you whole. Pine trees blanketed in the white matter surround you. With chunky mittens on, you form a heart with your hands. Snowflakes descend from the sky, a few landing on your shoulders and knitted hat. Behind you, a stack of plastic sleds. You're captured with that smile of perfection on your face, the very smile that could rival the sun.

How...? 

How did he have this? Leon could've sworn he had every picture of you...

He crosses the hallway in several large strides and finds him in mere seconds. With every sliver of strength in his body, Leon tears the man from the grasp of the guards and shoves him against the wall.

"Where did you get this!?" His voice has been reduced to a gruff timbre. A horrifying whisper.

Gesturing at the Polaroid, the man looks at him in bewilderment.

"W-What are you talking about-?"

Leon's forearm pushes against the base of his throat, pressing harder and arousing choked gasps from his throat.

"I won't ask you again..."

"Me! Me, I-I took it! I took the picture!" The man, wide-eyed and terrified, desperately exclaims the truth. However, his answer seemed to be the exact opposite of what his interrogator wished for.

Calloused hands clasped around his collar, Leon pulls the man back before shoving him back into the wall. A blood-curdling crack, then a grunt pervades the air. The unmistakable scent of iron diffuses from the man's skull, inevitable from the force of the hit. Leon practically snarls through his heavy breaths.

"When!? When'd you take this fucking picture!?"

The man slurs out his answer, now rendered delirious from the strike his head endured.

"Jan... January... La-Last January..."

The world then shatters around Leon.

The tumultuous clamor of everything falling apart before his eyes robs him of any coherent, proper function. These past six years play out like another nightmare. Every sip of alcohol, every aimless nightmare, every mediocre hookup — it all crumbles and joins the rubble of the destruction.

This whole time... This whole time you...

His vision blurs as the revelation settles, swimming through a void of vertigo and devastation. A sharp ringing permeates around him. It complements the sound of his hyperventilating breaths and hammering heartbeat. The firm grasp he once held on the man weakens, to where he scrambles away from Leon and his violent antics.

This whole time you were... 

Alive...?

Leon turns his feet and stumbles away. Sweat seeps down his face and then his neck, staining the musk-stained clothes he had not washed in weeks. The sheer luminosity of the white lights, white walls, and white floors do not aid him in his attempts to soothe his sorrows. There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Leon brings his hand up to the painful ache, falling in his efforts to mend his affliction, once again.

"Are you alright, sir?"

The new voice could easily be spoken from miles away. Vanished and impossible to discern. Leon tries to clutch the walls to maintain his stability, but this inevitably fails him, as the shock derived from this epiphany sends his weak body to the unforgiving ground.

"I'm dying..."

He can hardly recognize his own voice. It is now a higher, fearful pitch than he is used to. The other person speaks once more, but he cannot perceive what was said. Their words are merely a quiet boat in a thrashing ocean.

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

This feeling of realization bubbles in his chest and infiltrates every inch of his form. His chest is overwhelmed with panicked breaths. Up and down, up and down. The stranger then sprints away from Leon. Their shouts for a doctor are distorted, now an echo Leon cannot discern.

Voices from his past speak to him from all directions. As though the very walls surrounding him were taunting him. Mocking every failure of his.

"Leon- LEON-!!"

"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!?"

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him."

"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."

"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me."

His world has been torn to paper-thin shreds. Then, it all goes dark. Leon is left alone and unconscious in this vast abyss of nothingness.

Tyrell sighs in frustration. He wonders why this team has such a knack for hiring people with "severe mental issues".

A harsh cut to reality is what Leon was next met with. Inside this shoebox-sized hospital room, ragged belts are restrained around his limbs. Doctors rush in and out of the blinding-white room. A myriad of drugs course in his system, intended to ease the rampant panic pumping through his body. The aftermath of his panic attack was fresh, yet still, all Leon could think about was you.

How you, his sunshine, his sweet baby, have been alive all this time.

Leon thrashes and fights against his restraints, as though you were just outside the door, waiting for him to come scoop you in his arms and close the distance between you at once. For the umpteenth time, several nurses race into the room and sedate him. Again, he is forced into another fit of unconsciousness. This routine will go on to repeat numerous times. Knowing you are out there somewhere, alone, makes for a man inconsolable.

Several days pass before Leon is brought to a state of mediocre tranquility. His heart is still rampant, but with fear of more time wasted without taking proper action, he abides by the doctor's demands. He will do anything to get to you, after all. Kneel before God, succumb to the Devil. Face him with the most torturous, humiliating, gut-wrenching fate with the promise of your return and he will simply smile in response. Leon will lay with blood painting his teeth and purple bruises caked into his skin, unhinged with euphoria knowing you are the prize at the end of the tunnel.

Mere picoseconds had passed before he sprung into action. He is swift to return to his work. Fervently, he begins scouring through every detail Umbrella left behind to pinpoint the exact location you reside at.

The most valuable piece of evidence was security camera footage. A prominent clue that made Leon's stomach coil like a snake ensnaring itself around its prey. Outside of the window to your bedroom, the night-vision camera highlights the scene of two intruders. With careful ease, they pull your unconscious body through the room and flee to the adjacent forest with you in their arms.

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.

Or, as Leon prefers to refer to them, two names that have now been added to his lengthy list of those who will face his wrath.

The team has theorized the two have been working for Umbrella and were assigned to sneakily escort survivors to a new location. Due to this, patients still in this present location are now being sent to a hospital guarded by the Torrents. A place where they will be kept far away from Umbrella's grasp. What the team can't piece together, however, is why the two never came back to take more survivors. They had plentiful opportunities, but you, Y/N L/N, are the only missing patient. Or, as the team has now assigned your code name as, "Baby-Eagle".

Now, Leon is coursing through Spain. Guns strapped in their holster, knives out at the ready, and a reveling rage in his eyes — he counts every second spent away from you. The chilling temperatures gust against his skin like sharp teeth as he practically tears the country asunder. All that matters is finding the face that has been stamped in every dream of his for the past six years.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He still can't believe it. You are alive.

If Leon grants himself permission to revel in this fact, he will lose what little control he still possesses over himself. God knows how much he needs the slivers that still remain. These feelings, despite all, have kindled strength Leon never recognized. A new spark; a fresh, riveting chapter. Emotions which only you, some sort of sorcerer, are capable of conjuring.

A day has now passed of his relentless search. More and more does fear cradle Leon. Like a warm blanket nestled around his heart, he is horrified by the silence that ventures through the land of Los Iluminados. The mere thought of potentially stumbling across you, lifeless, is enough to evoke a gag from the back of his throat. He cannot handle that. He cannot lose you again.

The dim light of dusk irradiates the loading docks. Every rushed step Leon takes causes the decrepit surface to moan weakly from the weight. He scrutinizes every shipping container, every nook and cranny, every barrel splattered with yellow paint. He becomes increasingly more ridden with desperation as his lasting hope begins to flicker.

Leon turns a corner and finds it: the sight he has been crying every night to see for six years. His mouth speaks before his brain can emulate these soul-crushing sensations.

"Y/N...!?"

You turn your head to the intrusion. Leon is shocked he had not died right there beneath your gaze.

You, his epic, undying love, rest there as though Botticelli painted you as the focal point for 'Birth of Venus'. Sat against some paper sacks like Venus stood on her scallop shell, Leon has never seen a sight quite as perfect as this. Strikingly similar to the pearl Venus resembles, you and her are pure and exquisite as you are brought to life. In a way, it is precisely the events which take place now. Six years wrestling with the burden of your death, only for you to be reborn before his very eyes like the natural, divine God you are. Absolutely, irrevocably perfect in your stance.

Leon stands frozen in place. Staring at this work of art, this utter masterpiece mere yards away from him. He is then taken aback when he feels something wet trickle down his cheeks. What he assumes to be rainfall is actually... tears?

All these years, he has begged the universe to feel his emotions. Or to feel anything, for that matter. It will not bring you back, as he wholly prayed for every night, but it would bring temporary, weak relief. Right now, as though you had some form of superpower, Leon cries. He cries like he has never before. His face twists into an ugly scrunch; he can feel the hot tears and stringy snot seep down his skin. He listens to the gut-wrenching sobs protruding from his chest and holds his hand over his heart, overwhelmed by the intensity the organ is enduring.

Despite the tragic scene, Leon has never been happier. The journey these six years have taken him on has been rough. Irrevocably soul-crushing. Seeing you here, beautiful as you always were, makes everything worth it — utterly, indubitably, and completely.

Then, someone else interrupts.

Ada Wong, a few years older, steps into view. Guarding you from the unwelcome intruder.

The epiphany strikes like a broken heart. It is not betrayal, as he has never trusted Ada. Rather, it is a flood of humiliation. It is absolute shame, unadulterated and pure. How could he have been such a fool?

All this time, Ada had kept you with her. She was the reason he was apart from you; she was the distance that stood between two soulmates. That must be the story, right? She sunk those acrylic claws into your pretty skin and took you away from him, spewing lies about your death and granting Umbrella access to you.

Leon is hit with this epiphany. Hit with what he perceives to be the truth. And it makes him alive with rage.

"It was you, wasn't it...?"

The silence is shattered by his voice. Sewn with fury and nestled deep inside him. His attention, once solely devoted to the love of his life, has now been shifted towards someone else. The one he believes to be responsible for these six years of sheer agony.

"This whole fucking time-!"

In one swift motion, Leon storms over with his fingers clenched to his holster. You stand from the paper sacks and use your body as a shield between Ada and him. Your hand ghosts over Leon's chest to prevent any more unwanted violence. And how unaware you are of the sheer impact your physical touch has on this man.

For a moment, just a fleeting second, Leon is able to overlook the context of the circumstances. Your hand barely makes contact with his body, and from them, he can feel your warmth. The same warmth he has been chasing after; the same warmth he has killed himself over and over to try and retrieve again. It is like a gentle breeze, like tepid bath water. Somehow, your simple touch has pacified his rage as though it were merely child's play to you. Something Leon never thought was feasible.

And just like always, Ada Wong is there to shatter yet another trance.

"Have you really gone so far off the deep end, that you think you could ever amount to being their boyfriend? You truly believe you deserve that title?" Ada laughs. A deep, mocking chuckle. "Are you really that delusional or just naturally blonde?"

You look at Ada and speak for the first time.

"'Boyfriend?'"

An expression of puzzlement is plastered on your face. In return, their heads whip to stare at you, brows furrowed while searching for confirmation.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Leon was never my boyfriend...?"

Their confusion deepens. Ada questions how she could have so foolishly fallen for a fantasy this dumb boy created. Leon questions why you are telling her such lies. You've been dating for almost seven years now, what are you talking about? 

"Y/N/N, you don't have to lie to her. You know I won't let her hurt you."

Now, it is your turn to be just as perplexed as they both are. What the fuck is he talking about?

As you're busy scrutinizing him for an explanation, Ada grasps hold of your forearm. Protectively and with softness, she guides you away from the deranged antics of Leon. You lean into her touch in response, as your trust in her is stronger than whatever you feel for him. Especially after the events you and Ada have both endured today.

The man in question, however, does not favor this action. With a swiftness that makes you dizzy, Leon shoves her off of you. Ada falls to the ground from the force of his strength but gracefully springs to her feet. Eyes narrowed and hunting knife in hand, she is ready for battle.

A shriek then falls from your mouth when Leon takes his pistol from its holster but is replaced with shocked silence when Ada kicks the gun from his grasp with her stiletto heel. A stab towards his chest is easily blocked by his meaty forearm, but she still manages to retaliate and surges a punch across his jaw.

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible for you to keep up with the speed of it all. When Ada drops to her feet, encasing her leg around Leon's ankles and sending him to the floor, the loud clamor of his harsh landing takes you back to a few days ago. That bang! is all too familiar. The fire of gunshots out of Jill's gun and the pounding of their fists against flesh — these memories return more harshly than before. Your heart hammers with dread and adrenaline, as though the same inner turmoil has returned yet again.

Once again, who do I choose? The clingy customer at Mizoil, the overly affectionate Superwoman, or myself?

In a state of pure instinct, you do what you predominantly fail at the most. Run.

You don't anticipate how close they may be behind, or if two of your past lovers may be waiting somewhere in the forest. You do not pay these thoughts any attention, for that matter. Focused entirely on the path ahead, you run like you never have before. And if it weren't for the rampant adrenaline coursing through your system, you could say you've become familiar with this forest. It is almost ridiculous how much you have raced past all these trees. Burning lungs, numb legs and all — oh, this is really getting old.

When a sudden force knocks you to your feet, you can feel yourself begin to succumb to lethargy. The relentless sprint and post-laser-induced pains have become too much for your body to endure. Shifting your gaze up, however, you are met with a burst of energy when you see that you have collided with... A person?

Thick gear is strapped to his strong body. Glasses are rested upon the bridge of his nose. This is the first stranger you have seen in months and you do not know how to handle it.

"Oh, shit. It's really you..." His concerned gaze peers at you through his foggy eyewear.

When his fingers ghost over your arm, you flinch away from him. You do not mean to do this, but your body, riddled with turmoil and trauma, reacts before your brain can.

"It's alright, it's alright..." His voice goes softer. "My name is Tyrell. I'm here to help you."

He reaches a cautious hand out to you, as though you were a feeble, terrified animal backed into a corner. Your trust has been worn thin, but whatever fight left in your system has entirely perished. You cannot run anymore; you cannot defend yourself. If this is death, then you will welcome it with open arms. At least you can say you've made it this far.

Lifting a shaky hand up, you let out a gentle gasp when you make physical contact with him. With tender encouragement, Tyrell brings you to your feet. Your tired legs wobble as though you were a baby fawn. Touch that does not inevitably follow with romantic expectations is something foreign to you. This level of kindness has almost become a stranger. Although you would never verbalize it, his touch feels good. It is a comfort; a softness.

Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut. Your body fails you and you collapse into Tyrell's arms. Now, unconsciousness comes as a solace, instead of that familiar trepidation.

And so engrossed in their own feral need for dominance, neither Ada nor Leon had taken notice of your sudden disappearance.

Fresh bruises and blood splatters permeate their bodies. What neither of them realizes about the other is that Leon fights hard, yes, but Ada doesn't fight fair. In a matter of several seconds, she takes the man to the metal floors, once again.

Leather heels pressed to his neck, she points his own pistol to his face.

"Now stay down."

Leon has never been one to back down. Even with death staring directly into his eyes, never once has he begged. However, with you here, alive, he can't bear to be torn from you again.

"Don't... Please, I-I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't take me away from them. Not again..."

Ada is nearly struck dumbfounded by this new side of him. Leon Kennedy, the savior of the president's daughter, one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, is begging for his life? What has she done to this man? Or, above all, what have you done to him?

"Tell me what Umbrella wants with Y/N."

Leon's eyes trail off behind her, seemingly searching for something with frantic movements. Her words had merely gone through one ear and out the other. His silence is only met with frustration.

"I've kept you away from them for this long." Her finger moves to hover over the trigger. "I can easily turn those six years into forever."

"Where did Y/N go?" Leon cuts her off.

Ada nearly snaps her neck with how fast she turns around. Dark eyes scanning the loading docks, her stomach sinks into a sea of dread when she cannot find you. Leon scrambles to his feet and searches alongside his nemesis. Shouts of your name echo into the gloomy skies; their hammering hearts could rival a war drum.

From here, yet another search for you begins. And between them, there is now an unspoken agreement, a newfound alliance. Although their plans rarely come to fruition, they have both found a conclusion together. The two are now wholly focused on the scheme they will achieve or die striving for.

Find you, ensure your safety, and keep you forever in their arms.

A warm, wet rag pressed against your forehead is what you awaken to next. The sudden shift into consciousness causes you to jerk back. Your eyes burst wide, scrutinizing as much of your environment as you can.

You're finally out of that dark forest. Now, you've been rested upon a dilapidated couch. Damp clothes are still stuck to your body, but a thick comforter has been draped upon you. The golden lamplight highlights Tyrell, who sits on the coffee table beside you. With a bowl of water and a rag in his hand, he looks at you with a concerned gleam in his gaze.

You are brought to a mild sense of ease once you comprehend your surroundings. You do not have it within you to trust anyone, but for some reason, this man has brought tranquility you cannot explain. Safety has become a rarity. And you gobble every breadcrumb of it you are able to garner.

"Welcome back." He jokes. His tone is still quiet, as it has been. Careful.

Your throat aches, but you still speak.

"Where am I?" You nearly cringe at how scratchy, how pathetic your voice is.

"My house." This does not calm you. Tyrell notices.

"Hey, no one can get you in here. You are safe, I swear it." His assurances help ease you. He, once again, takes notice of this before continuing.

"I'm sure you have a 'lotta questions for me, huh? I got some for you, too."

"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"

"That's a good question because I don't know either. It's what we're trying to figure out." You furrow your brow, to which he answers to your confusion. "I work with a team called the Torrents. We've been tasked with locating Umbrella and finding any survivors. You were top of our list, 'Baby-Eagle'. Now that you're safe and sound, my teammates can finally get some sleep."

Your smile grows at that nickname. God, when was the last time someone elicited a genuine smile from you?

"We think they may have been testing on some of the patients they have. Do you happen to know anything about that?"

Then, the dread settles with the realization. Jill and Carlos were right this whole time. When you would travel to the ends of the Earth to defend that corporation, it was all for a lie in the end. When Jill and Carlos saved you from them, you paid them back with cruelty and distrust. You left them both in the dust when all they wished to do was save you. Should you have ever left them?

"What about Carlos Oliveira? Jill Valentine? We know they had, um... taken you. If you're willing to talk about them, I'm all ears. 'Got all night, anyways."

There Tyrell goes again. The voice of reason in a bubble of incoherent regret.

"All I-um... All I remember is being at the sanct- er, Umbrella. I drank some tea and then I woke up in Jill and Carlos' house. The next several months, they-uh, they convinced me we were in a... relationship, of some sort. Matt- or Umbrella, found us in the end. They all hurt each other. Real bad. Then, I ended up here." Your words are quiet and broken, but Tyrell manages to pick up every cracked piece of your voice.

"Okay. I see..." He nods. "Do you think Jill and Carlos could have possibly been working for Umbrella?"

This question leaves you taken aback, evident in your dramatic reaction and scrunched face.

"God, no! They despised Umbrella. And I... I defended Umbrella. I thought they helped me, I thought they were the good guys. Every time Jill and Carlos talked shit about them, I would get so-" You interrupt yourself with a coughing fit.

Reaching to his side, Tyrell holds a plastic bottle of water in his large hands. The prospect of drugs floating through the liquid fills you with apprehension. However, with your throat on fire, you eagerly take the bottle and nearly down the entire beverage. Tyrell is one of the good ones, he wouldn't do that to you. You're sure of it.

"It's alright. You don't have to answer any more of my stupid questions, don't worry. All you 'gotta do is rest."

If you were more conscious and without the weight of fresh trauma, you'd make a joke of how he should be a voice actor with such a soothing voice like his. Tyrell's hand finds your shoulder and softly guides you back down to the couch. You ignore the unfamiliar, teenage-love-like bolt of electricity that flows from his touch and you follow his lead. When your head hits the rough fabric of the pillow, you let your heavy eyes fall.

When a door down the hallway bursts open, you cannot tell if you had been asleep for hours or if you had slept at all. Without Tyrell's presence, that all-too-familiar sense of terror returns. When you are barely able to discern his muffled voice through the walls, that terror is slightly diluted with ease. The context is what lies outside this room still has you riddled with fear.

Then, like every cheesy romance film you've ever seen, Leon Kennedy stands on the threshold of the living room entrance.

You are barely allowed a mere second to process his presence before he is barreling for you. His arms, thick and warm, ensnare around your waist. He exhales your name with a breathless tremor, burying his head further into the crevice of your neck. And you melt into him. After everything you've been through, a hug is something you are in dire need of. Leon croons in response, latching onto you tighter. Nestling himself closer against you like a touch-starved, needy puppy-dog.

"Oh, sunlight... I was so worried...!" Although this man has suffered drastic changes in the six years you've been without him, he never seems to have let go of that saccharine tone. Unbeknownst to you, you are the only one capable of summoning that side of Leon.

Although you feel safe in the comfort of Tyrell's home, there is still that stagnant terror fizzing in your stomach. A myriad of questions overwhelm your brain. What has happened? How much time has passed? Where is Ada?

You weaken your hold on him. He does not like that. "Leon. Please, I need to know-"

"Shh..." He interrupts, his hands trailing up your form until they grasp hold of your face. His grip on you, tighter than ever, shifts so he can gaze into your eyes.

"Just let me look at you..."

And that he does. Seconds, then minutes pass. All Leon does is stare directly into you. As though every inch of your irises were being studied to memory by him. As though he was pulling the depths of your soul to the surface of your eye, all for him to gawk and goggle at. It should make you blush and avert your gaze, as the characters normally do in those romance movies. However, you can't bring yourself to. You feel uncomfortable and scrutinized. As though you are restrained to a metal table for strangers and doctors to poke and prod at.

The doorbell then rings and the echo roams through the halls. You are broken from this entrance with Leon, but he is not. God, how could he?

With you here, all the cruelty he has been faced with is now wrapped together in a pretty bow. It was all a present, he now realizes. Everything that has happened led him to the personification of utmost, perpetual happiness. So, you must forgive him if he finds himself staring for too long (not that he even realizes, for that matter). It is impossible to fathom the flood of euphoria rushing through him, hence the dumbfounded, love-struck expression stamped on his face.

"Y/N..." He exhales, honey dripping from his voice.

Although he does not wish to close his eyes, Leon cannot imagine a better time to kiss you. Where the music swells, the candles glimmer, the moon gleams. It is what he has been dreaming about for six years, after all.

Just as Leon leans in, his intentions are cut short. Someone else, once again, interrupts.

Tyrell avoids the death glare from Leon and focuses on you, oblivious to how this action is the root of Leon's fury.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone was just here for you, Y/N."

Carlos and Jill are the first people who enter your mind, here to take you back to the affection-ridden toxicity of their humble abode. When Tyrell holds his hands out and displays what this stranger left, however, you're taken aback.

"She claimed to be your wife...?"

Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.

"And she left this."

What he then gives to you is a plushie, one you remember all too well. It is an opossum, the very same opossum you cuddled with every night during your time at the sanctuary. You've missed him very much whilst you were stuck with Jill and Carlos. Despite your expressed wishes, they never made the effort to retrieve your darling opossum. Why cuddle some measly fabric and cotton when you can cuddle them instead?

You let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it is not those two at the door.

The only striking difference in your fuzzy friend is the blood-red ribbon tied around the opossum's neck. Wedged between the silk and faux fur is a folded piece of paper. Both Tyrell and Leon watch as you open the letter, digesting the contents written on the surface.

In red ink, "Wait for me, petal..." is written with flawless, cursive handwriting. Beneath, a dandelion is drawn. The pappus drifts through the wind and scatters across the paper.

Ada?

Why is she here? Where has she been?

Or, more importantly, how the hell did she find your opossum?

A rough, sharp gasp sprouts from Jill's throat when she awakens.

A flickering light sways above her, the sight blurred in her tired gaze. Her body aches from the awkward position she was unconscious in. Lifting her weakened body up, Jill discerns several bodies, painted in blood and grime, that had been splayed in a frivolous mess. There are miscellaneous documents scattered amongst this violent disarray. Shifting her distorted gaze, she finds two metal doors that had been sprung open. How the hell did she get inside of a truck? What caused it to crash in the first place?

Using the dented walls for support, she stumbles forward. Black dots dance in Jill's vision for a moment, before returning to a hazy blur as she staggers out of the vehicle. With an abrupt grunt, she collapses into the mud. Her hands, stained with dirt, hold her ribs in an attempt to ease the stagnant pain.

For this simple moment, Jill is alone in the world. When the most important thing in her life finally flashes through her mind, the pumping of her heart accelerates.

Y/N... Where did you go?

Memories of her last encounter with you return, as well. It harbors terror like no other. She speaks your name and it sprouts from her throat in a desperate call.

Jill's breath quickens when she discerns a voice. The indubitable sound of someone crying for help echoes through the forest. She turns to the source with hope and worry shimmering in her eyes. Oh, it's her baby, her butterfly! You need her help!

"Y/N...! I'm coming..." Her voice is weak, but her attempts are the entire opposite.

Jill limps through the forest, clambering over wreckage with frantic effort. Averting her blurred gaze to the sound of cries, her face drops when she finds something entirely different.

That doctor you are evidently so infatuated with is stuck beneath a pile of rubble. His face appears as though it had been sunken in. Drowned in a mess of gore.

And sitting on top of the doctor is no other than Carlos Oliveira, whose fists are painted in that same gore.

His clenched fists plunge into Matt's face over and over and over again. His teeth are barred and bloodied like some sort of animal. His voice is several octaves lower than ever before, all guttural growls and grunts like some sort of rabid creature. It is something Jill has never seen before. Not in Raccoon City, not when they took you from the sanctuary, not even when she took you out for a ride on her motorcycle. He is now a monster in its absolute form.

However, Carlos is not something she is concerned with at the moment. She hurls herself over to the two and shoves Carlos off of Matt. He falls to the ground with a loud thump and a harsh curse. Jill ignores his dramatic reaction, before climbing atop of Matt and ensnaring her hands around his red-stained neck. Jill then proceeds to interrogate him of your whereabouts.

"What did you do to them? Where the fuck did you take them!?" Jill does not recognize herself, either. Her voice has morphed into a low, violent tone, an inflection she never knew she was capable of producing.

Matt does not respond to her pressuring questions. He chokes and gurgles on chunks of blood, teeth, and spit. His eyes, now puffy and swollen from the relentless blows they have endured, gape at her in confused terror. However, not that Matt could even be given the chance to respond. Jill glances at the sudden movement in her peripheral and is met with Carlos' fist striking her cheek. The force of the punch sends her to the dirt.

"This is all your fucking fault, Jill!" Her ears almost ring from the sheer volume of his shout.

Once again, it is a side of Carlos she has never seen before. She can take a punch, that's for damn sure. God knows she's handled worse. But fuck, is he out for blood right now.

"If you had never taken Y/N outside, they never would've wanted to leave in the fucking first place!" The tremble in the back of Carlos' throat jeopardizes his intimidation factor. Of course, he is crying, Jill sighs to herself.

Her lanky fingers press into the damp ground to stabilize herself. Before she can bring herself back to her feet, however, something catches her eye. A single document among the millions. She takes the closest one into her grasp and reads through the classified contents. With that damned Umbrella logo in the corner, Jill is fully aware of what evil, corrupt plans await her in the following passage.

As Carlos sobs like a child behind her, whimpers of "my baby" and "come back to me" filling the silent air, she scours through the information printed on the page. Three names are stamped in bold: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, and Y/N L/N. More survivors collected from Raccoon City, they claim. There are reports of your physicality and state of being, accompanied by their predictions on how you'll react to their new testing. "Las Plagas" is what they refer to it as.

At the very bottom of the document, most imperatively, is a series of coordinates to their new location.

With this newfound, fruitful information, Jill trudges over to Carlos for additional aid. When she finds him practically tucked into a ball, sobbing his lungs out, she cannot restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"Get up. Get up, pussy, come on-!" When she tugs on his arm, he pushes her harshly away from him.

"You don't understand!” Brown eyes, overwhelmed with tears, glare at her in accusation. “I can't live without them..."

Jill is swift to counter back. "Neither can-fucking-I! And we will never see 'em again unless you man-up and fuckin’ listen to me!"

This grabs his attention.

"So, are you just gonna sit there and fuckin' whine about it or are you gonna help me?"

With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.

"Good. Now get your shit together and find me a goddamn map."

Jill does not waste another second before springing into action. She begins with a thorough scrutinization of the scene of the crash, searching for any specific landmarks that will inform them of their current whereabouts. When all she finds is a street sign made of decaying wood that reads "Los Iluminados," she knows her luck is wearing thin.

When Carlos announces with a cracked voice his discovery, Jill limps with urgency to him. Nestled beneath the passenger seat is a map, crumbled and stained with filth. Jill yanks the paper from his hands and searches for the street they are currently stuck on, while also discerning the coordinates Umbrella had disclosed in their document.

Meanwhile, Carlos chokes out demands left and right. Asking her what all of this is for, and how this will help him in his efforts to reunite with his sweet bumblebee. Despite his irritating questions, she does not respond to him. She is too engrossed in her own head, manipulating her detective skills.

"There." Jill finally breaks her fit of silence.

Presenting the map to Carlos, she points to where the coordinates line up.

"That's where Y/N is."

A beat passes as Carlos, too, inspects the contents before him. Then, he snatches the map from Jill's hands. He storms off in the direction she advised with a desperate vengeance in his disposition.

When Jill takes a step to follow him, something clutches around her ankles. With a sharp gasp, she looks down to identify the sudden matter. When the hopeful fraction of her mind told her it could be you, she was met with disappointment when she finds Matt. Whining and pleading for her help, blood still oozing from his butchered head and seeping into the mud below.

Jill stares at the man with absolutely nothing in her eyes. She, instead, snatches a loose, sharp twig from the mess of detritus scattered around. Before Matt can obtrude another helpless plead, she drives the stuck directly into his eye. Blood squirts from the fresh wound like a fizzy soda. One last gurgle for air and his body finally goes limp.

She spits on his corpse. Then, Jill turns back to follow Carlos on his trail.

Wherever you may be, she will find you. Even if it kills her.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,

BUT I'M THINKING OF THE WAY IT WAS . . . ❞

long wait but we back again babyyyyy

gif creds :: leon.

#moonfairy #resident evil #leon kennedy #ada wong #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong x reader #jill valentine x reader #carlos oliveria x reader #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #ada wong imagine #jill valentine imagine #carlos oliveira imagine #yandere resident evil #yandere leon kennedy #yandere ada wong #yandere jill valentine #yandere carlos oliveira #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Spotify

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʙᴇʀʀʏ ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni - nasty sex. angry sex.

carlos oliveira, ellie williams, sim ghost riley, joel miller, leon kennedy, levi ackerman and will herondale.

this is for you guys helping me reach 400+ followers :)

ᴄᴀʀʟᴏꜱ ᴏʟɪᴠᴇɪʀᴀ

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks as your face had been pressed against the soft mattress, his large hand had been entangled within your locks while the rough thrusting of his hips had aided you into an eternal pleasurable tunnel, your whines mixed and embedded with his soft grunts as he angrily fucked his cock inside your tight cunt, his width twitching between your hearth while mumbling strong words of affront.

“I’m sorry,” you grumbled, your chin wet with your own shameful saliva, yourself incapable of keeping your mouth shut in response to his lewd roughness, eyes blurred with gratifying tears while the thumb of his free hand found way to the tightness of your second hole, your legs spreading further apart in sensual apathy while your boyfriend continued to rip you apart.

Finding the strength to grip your fingers into the bed sheets you had clenched your sex around his size. “I---I can’t take it!” You cried out, “Too big!”

“Shouldn’t have tried to make me jealous, princess,” he sneered, nearing his lips to your ear, “Want me to stop?” He whispered, dragging the hand that had been tied with your hair to your waist, the heaviness of his chest pressing against your back and with desperacy you had shook your head. “Just as I thought, like the slut you are,” he gritted, the thrusts of his length deepening against the softness of your pussy driving you into a delirious ecstasy.

“Yes! Yes!” You chanted, crazed feeling your orgasm heat and peak around your cunt you had moved your hand to the swollen pearl of your sex, desperately rubbing and circling your digits around your bud while you had frantically moaned against your bed sheets, your tears slowly drying against your cheeks as you respired all the animalistic thrusts your partner contacted you with, your eyes twisted shut as your high pushed through your entire body, your juices leaking on outsides of your thighs as your figure inconsistently twitched.

Over-stimulated by the quickness of his pushes, you had allowed Carlos to take care of your body, milking his warm cum against the slickness of your back. “There, there,” he whispered as your body slumped against the mattress, you felt his lips go close to your face once more. “Now, you won’t do that again?” He questioned, his voice laced with cunningness that had caused you to throw a certain look his way.

“Maybe.”

POSITIONS REFERENCE.

ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ

You knew you couldn’t stay angry at each forever, and you knew Ellie would give into you once you met her with bright deer-like eyes; she’d drag you into her small cabin and begin to kiss you, though you had still felt the irritation that had vibrated through her body, but what she hadn’t realised is that you had just been as angry as her or even more

Once your clothes had met the floor, the two of you had continued to re-discover each other’s bodies, your fingers slipping and circling places that would cause her figure to jerk, and the second you had found yourself on top of her, your swollen bud had pressed against her eager pearl, your body circling and thrusting against her slim but muscled figure, your paw finding way to wrap around her neck as your once slow motion had carried into a stronger and competitive rhythm.

“Fuck,” Ellie whined, her back deeply pressed against her mattress as she had wrapped one leg around your waist, possessively and greedily twirling her body with yours as her coloured eyes rolled to the back of her head, her body shivering in pleasure as your juices mixed with each other, the friction sending her into a crazed edge as she held back her cum, embarrassed with how quick you had made her ride to her climax. “Don’t stop!” She cried out and cocky, you had smirked at her, your other hand finding way around her neck as both of your buds humped each other.

“Not stopping anytime soon,” you lustfully smiled, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth you breathed out a moan as you gently bounced against her swollen pearl, finding yourself wanting to squirt against her cunt you allowed yourself to orgasm against her sex, combining and fusing your nectar with her natural wetness, the view of the whiteness of your ambrosia stirred Ellie into an soaring climax, both of your cunts pulsing against each other as you both resumed to grind in sync, both faces red and covered with love-tears as you had mutually sent each other into a second climax.

With a loud sigh, you had pressed your forehead against Ellie’s, with the both of you exhausted you had rolled your body off her physique and landed beside her. “You looked so pretty fucking me like that,” Ellie worded out and confident, you had sat up with your arms, an encouraging smile embedded on your face.

“Do you still have your strap?” You asked and with a faux-offended look on her face, Ellie clicked her tongue.

“Of course, I do.”

POSITION REFERENCE

ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ 'ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ' ʀɪʟᴇʏ

“You love pissing me off, don’t you doll,” he flared, tightly wrapping his hand around the back of your knee, your arm wrapped around the back of his neck to aid you to be roughly fucked by the tall man who had possessively held you against him, you had a playful smile on your face, content on sending your husband over the edge, your eyes currently doe to his dignity and grace while your cunt had hungrily pulsed around his shaft, your lips snugged behind your teeth as you had loudly whimpered and moaned to his rough and coarse fuck.

Easily drunk off his sex, you had leaned your head backwards, your cheeks rosy and flushed with erotica as your spouse continued to pound his cock so deeply inside your tight cunt. Your closeness sending him into a beastly bawdy lust as he continued to thrust his length upwards, he commenced to tuck his lips against the skin of your neck and shoulders. “You drive me crazy,” he moaned, his dark eyes laced with romantic madness as you aided your fingers to the bud of your pussy, rotating your digits around your clit while your pussy had sweetly soaked his size.

“I love driving you insane,” you whispered before pushing yourself to his lick his tongue, both you hungrily moving towards each other, latching against each other as your mouths had quickly melded with one another, the roughness of the curve of his tip poking and licking the soft texture of your sex while he ardently guided his dick deeper your vagina whilst the heat of his impending climax heated his body, his cock twitching tightly inside of your cunt while your nectar graspingly coated his length.

“Y’know I’d do anything for you, luvie,” he whispered, his eyes potent with anger mixed with thirst. “You know I’d kill for you,” he moaned, his legs then twitching and shivering as he heavily cummed inside your cunt, his balmy semen seeping and coating against your cervix, careful to push as much of his load inside of you, the man had continued to thrust his hips upwards, your toes curling in response as your eyes watered with sex and intimacy. “You love driving me to that point.”

“I don’t know if I should hate that,” he moaned while tightening his grip around you. “Playing with my feelings like this---oh fuck!” He loudly moaned, his second orgasm pushing through, his cum filling your tight area while the bulge of his cock lightly imprinted your stomach.

Moved, you had licked your lower lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gently moved your body with his. Your competitive tastes obsessed with driving you insane, the thought of him handling others in your name had lifted you, while the friction of your fingers guided you to your peeking orgasm, you had pushed your lips against him once more. “I love you,” you moaned, your nectar sheeting around his width, mixing with his juices while you continued to squirt and cum around his cock.

“Shit—I love you too, doll,” he moaned while pulling his length out of your body, you had quickly held onto the table he had fucked you near. Dizzy with the tight and intense orgasm he had put you through, you had sneery smiled at him as you had watched him get to his knees. “Now let me lick my cum out of you.”

POSITIONS REFERENCE

ᴊᴏᴇʟ ᴍɪʟʟᴇʀ

The drop-off had went to shit, Tess had been missing and within your thoughts you had believed she had committed herself to another side-quest while pushing both you and Joel to stay in the current crappy apartment you had all currently inhabited; and due to this, you could tell Joel was pissed.

Well pissed off was an understatement to how the man had currently felt but you had understood that your man had wanted a relief, thus you had your second hole roughly ripped open by his girth, your anus wet with your saliva that had once coated his cock after the intense dick-sucking you had gifted the bearded man which had sent Joel to an acute orgasm.

Though, Joel was a man of stamina, he had wanted more, and now he had wrapped his arms around the back of your legs, pressing your back against his chest while fucking you ruthlessly. “Take it like the good girl you are,” he groaned, “Good girl,” he repeated and with your moans over-lapping his comments, you had thorwn your head backwards, mouth opened with un-swallowed saliva as you had attempted to live through his passionate plows.

“Fuck, you’re being so rough on me,” you cried out, snaking your hand towards your untouched pussy, the dew ample and sultry enough for you to easily slip in three fingers, the heavy over-stimulations forcing you to roll your eyes backwards as your walls gripped and twitched around your fingers and his cock.

“Keep doing that imma cum,” he gritted, his voice hoarse as his length began to throb inside your anus while he continued to aid you to bounce on his dick, you could feel your cunt want to spit with your juices.

“More,” you had whined, “I want to feel your hot cum inside of me,” you whimpered while bucking your hips forwards in autopilot. “I want it!” You moaned and satisfied by Joel’s quick turning point, the heat of his load painted and capped your walls just in time before Tess’s knocks echoed on the front door. “Shit,” you had muttered ere slipping yourself off his length, you could then hear Joel scramble onto his feet to pick up his thrown garments.

POSITIONS REFERENCE

ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ

As much as you had been stubborn, you had known you always became somewhat of a tramp of Leon’s whenever he had wanted you, you the woman who had loved playing games and as much as you had told each other you were just co-workers, every second away from each other he had lusted for you, yearned for your wetness and touch

Though, as much as he had told himself he wasn’t a jealous man, the view of you being touched by someone else had driven him crazy to the point that, he had set up a faux meeting that had involved just the two of you, you on the other hand had thought you’d meet the rest of the members so when you had entered the meeting room to be met with an upset, Leon, you had taken the imitative to wonder what he had up his sleeve, and what had been the commodity up the fabric had involved the two of you naked.

Carried by his strong arms as he aided you to bounce up and down his thick and long shaft, involved you moaning shamelessly against his ear while your wet hearth had squeezed and throbbed around his size whilst his fingers gripped into the skin of your buttocks, you had felt the curve of his thick tip lick and press the softness of your cunt. “That’s it, baby!” You moaned, the high erotic sting pushing you into a lustful end while you had felt his soft lips press against the skin of your neck.

“Like that?” He reassured biting his lips. “Feel so good, so fucking wet---uh!” He moaned out, his size endlessly throbbing and solid between your warmth, “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking early!” He cried out, his legs weakly shaking as he could feel his cum want to spill and seep and paint the inside of your walls, but just as adamant as you, he had kept in his semen while roughly handling your cunt with his length, the curve of his cock brushing against your heat and pulling you into an obsessive cock-drunk state.

“Yes! Yes!” You moaned, your ambrosia reaching and peeking to its end and sheeting and finishing around his size that had resumed to buck upwards, greedy and hasty to find its own climax, Leon’s eyes dark with lust, he clenched his teeth, finding his strength to bounce your body upwards as he began to milk his cum inside of your body.

Relieved, he had pressed your body against the wall, lifting your figure off his dick as he watched the mixed liquid of both yours and his cum fall out of your body. “So beautiful,” he hummed before taking your mouth with his, deepening the dual passionate affection the two you both proudly and stubbornly shared for each other.

POSITION REFERENCE

ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ

With the vibrating of the toy that he had pushed inside your cunt working its way within you, Levi had lost himself with fucking his cock deep inside your anus, his thick size hastily humping backwards and forwards while the Ackerman had possessively wrapped his firm hands around your waist. With your mouth opened, you had looked back at him, your mouth wide as he continued to fuck you into his bed.

With the sounds of the slapping off his balls hitting your ass, you had watched his steel-like eyes examine how intoxicated you had looked by the help of his length. Teasingly, you had squeezed your hole around his dick, over-stimulated with the buzzing off the toy that hummed against your pearl, instigating you to roll your eyes back whilst you had felt his other hand snake around your throat, possessively pulling you closer against him. “Don’t hold it in---I want everyone to know you’re being fucked by me,” he growled and with his permission your mouth had opened wider, your high-pitched moans vibrating off the walls as the pounding sounds of the bedframe had continued to hit against the wooden walls.

“Oh—Captain!” You wailed, “you’re so deep inside of me, feel so---good---ah!” You moaned, feeling a wave of orgasm wash through you, the bustling of the small toy hopping harder against your overwhelmed clit, your body falling numb within his grasp as he continued to pummel his cock down your ass, his swollen sac pelting against the skin off your ass cheeks while the wetness of both of your sweats continued to meld with each other.

“Moan for me like that, brat---let them know!” He grumbled, “ass so fucking tight around me---brat---oh fuck!” He sobbed, his body shaking as his cock began to shoot out his load, his warm semen piling and filling inside of you, helping him move his body faster between you, his fingers leaving bruises against your skin as he had trouble with pulling his cock out, and when he did the rest of his load spilt against your back, leaving you shaking against the bed.

Your ass still up, you could feel Levi press his lips against your anus before giving it a long lick, cleaning up his mess, sucking and whipping your ass with his mouth and tongue before moving it down your clit, helping your toy send you through another intense and addictive orgasm.

POSITION REFERENCE ONE

POSITION REFERENCE TWO

ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇʀᴏɴᴅᴀʟᴇ

It must’ve been another run in by Gabriel Lightwood, Will was usually someone who won over his disputes, but this time, the Lightwood must’ve hit a sore spot which had Will knocking on your door when everyone was asleep, he was in one of his rare moments, silent, but there had been a look on his face that had granted him access to your room.

He must’ve taken a walk, a walk in the rain in fact, his dark curly hair had been stuck against his skin such as his shirt had clung against his body, without an utter, the boy had already been unbuttoning his shirt while you had closed the door behind the two of you, though, you had not wanted to do anything with him, not without having him speaking first, so you had leaned against your wall. Arms crossed and eyes with slight judgement. “What happened?” You asked as you had watched him peel off his white garment.

With a quick glance you had watched him throw his shirt against the floor, in thought that you would follow after but you hadn’t. Earning a short piercing look from his ocean eyes and as you had returned with a darker glare, you had tightened your grip around yourself. “I’m not going to take off my clothes and lay with you because you want to.”

“You normally do.”

With your eyebrows furrowed you had ended up clicking your tongue in disapproval. “You’re such a dick.”

“I just need you,” he breathed out. “Gabriel---he…he spoke about you---” without allowing him to say another word, you had grasped his face, melding your lips with his while tucking your hand beneath his trousers.

“This will be the last time you come into my room expecting me to fuck you this easily, understand?” You questioned and with a soft nod, the both of you had continued to passionately embrace each other, mouth tight and swollen by your heated combination, while the two of you aided each other to take off each other’s clothes, naked under the long moonlight that had gently seeped through the curtains.

Will, strong and fast had pushed you against the bed, using you to get into the position he had wanted you to be in the second he had left the drawing room he had once shared with Gabriel, his eyes currently furious with lust, the stiff cock of his had gently stroked against the skin of your cunt, the wetness of your hearth easily welcoming him inside of you, the soft yet fiery friction had commenced a moan from both of your mouths, thus you had abruptly squeezed around him as his arm had welcomed around the back of your knee, aiding himself to dive and thrust deeper inside of your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” Will moaned, “fit so well for me,” he moaned as he quickened his pace with his thrusts, each plow filled with anger and erotica and each thrust quicker and rougher than before, leaning your head back in auto-pilot while your moans resumed to sing in his room, aware to feel the embarrassment and walk of shame that would occur the next day, you helped yourself to grind your body against, the tip of his cock circling and embracing the softness of your sex while your juices heavily capped and painted his shaft, his length then slipping in and out carrying him to his orgasm. “Oh [Y/N]!” He cried in adoration, his swollen sac releasing his climax inside of you, his grunts mixing with your high-pitched moans as he continued to move his body forwards.

Your body ridden stiff as you could sense your own climax attempt to spill against your mattress, your eyes locked with his, signalling your turning point, lustful to his encouraging look that had influenced the peak to your capstone, and thus you had relieved yourself, your amrita glazing and layering around his girth and once you had been done, you had rested your body against Will’s, an embarrassed and breathy laughed emitting from the back of your throat as you could feel Will leave your body.

“Charlotte is so going to be mad tomorrow,” you laughed.

POSITION REFERENCE

masterlist

♆

#carlos oliveria smut #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #will herondale #will herondale smut #will herondale x reader

[turtle-and-bug]

got tired of reddit comments saying "new Jill cusses too much" if anything new Jill isn't vulgar enough, I want capcom to lean HARD into crude Jill, I want to see Chris BLUSH in the inevitable RE5 remake

#resident evil #rebecca chambers #albert wesker #chris redfield #claire redfield #leon kennedy #ada wong #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #jimmy kimmel

[bitbugbites-re]

𝙻𝚊𝚙 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 | 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

Headcanons on how different RE men would give you their lap as a pillow (and vice versa!)

tumblr exclusive!

characters: Albert Wesker, Carlos Oliveira, Chris Redfield, Ethan Winters, Leon S. Kennedy

gender: gn! reader

cw: FLUFF, (slight) NSFW // lap pillow // ktober

a/n: there are THREE vers. of leon in this post because they give that boy WAY too many damn personalities (re3r, re4r, re6)

𝕬𝖑𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖙 𝖂𝖊𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖗 (any rendition)

Giving you his lap:

Doesn't typically invite you to lay on his lap, you usually are the one to just wiggle your way onto him

Once he picks up on you liking it though, he'd probably offer when you were sad or upset about something

&

The dude has got rock-hard thighs because of his genetic mutations

It starts to get uncomfy pretty quick, so you gotta grab a pillow for yourself to place under your head (never back down, never WHAT?!)

Sometimes he grabs the pillow for you absent-mindedly because he knows you're gonna ask/get up for it

& NSFW

Usually never leads to anything nsfw, especially so if he's working while you're on his lap

I really only ever see it leading to nsfw stuff in the event that you approach him with the intention of seducing him (in which case it'll be you servicing him -- only sometimes it'll lead to full-on sex, as long as you're forward about wanting it)

Using your lap:

He doesn't automatically lay on your lap -- you're the one who offers it to him and he usually turns it down

It's not that he doesn't like it, he just isn't someone who is too big on physical touch

he also feels embarrassed laying in such a position

&

When he does lay on your lap, it's usually because you put him there against his will (typically when he's sad)

he secretly likes it

You like to stare into his eyes since they're such a unique color. he claims to hate it (he doesn't, he's just prideful and won't admit he likes cheesy lovey-dovey things)

Gets mad at you if you mess up his hair (doesn't physically stop you though, just grumbles and complains about it half-heartedly)

Can't fall asleep no matter how comfortable your legs are. he's just very particular in the way he falls asleep (and everything else, too)

If he doesn't have anything else to do, he'll usually just lay there and wait for you to fall asleep. If you do, he'll get up and carry you to the bedroom, covering you up before going back to work

& NSFW

Doesn't usually lead to anything nsfw in this scenario either

You gotta lay it on thick if you want him. he's a smart man and he can pick up on social cues -- he just isn't the type to have a high enough sex drive that causes him to jump at every opportunity available

𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖔𝖘 𝕺𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖎𝖗𝖆 (re3r)

Giving you his lap:

Will both offer and/or just randomly place you on his lap 24/7

If you get on his lap first without him saying anything, he gets really excited. The "my-cat-fell-asleep-on-me" kind of excited

&

He's got substantially thick legs. Can be pretty comfortable to lay on when his legs are relaxed -- although sometimes he tenses his legs unconsciously and you have to ask him to unflex them

Has a little bit of trouble staying still for a prolonged period of time. He'll start out pretty still, but if you're having a conversation or he gets too into it, he'll make a lot of movements with his arms and/or upper body

Constantly in awe of you. Trying to look at your face, trying to pet your hair or rub your legs, etc. Just can't get enough of you.

He likes talking to you as you lay on him, too. Not very silent unless you fall asleep on him, in which case, he often glances down to look at your face. Will take pictures of you if you're okay with it, too.

& NSFW

Leads to nsfw things pretty often. In this scenario, you're the one to initiate it most of the time since you're the one by his package

Gets an almost immediate boner every time. Dude's got a high sex-drive and it doesn't take much from you to work him up

If you do end up playing with him in some way, he'll either want to pay you back or have full-on sex

Using your lap:

Literally just throws himself down on you. Most of the time you don't even have to ask if he wants to use your lap. He just does

&

Makes you pet his hair. Rub his facial scruff. Touch his arms. Dude is needy af

If you're eating something while he's on your lap, he'll just let you feed him. Seriously, you just stick stuff in his mouth and he eats it without saying anything

If your legs start to fall asleep and you ask him to get off, he'll just swap positions with you and put you on his lap instead

Will make you take selfies together while he's on your lap. Then proceeds to send them to his friends (usually Tyrell) as a way to brag about how he has a cool partner

Falls asleep on you really easily and snores loud as FUCK

& NSFW

Will start to get extra touchy if he wants to initiate sex. He'll reach up and cup your face, wrap his arms around your midriff and snuggle his head into you, etc.

Starts by giving you oral and it's usually the gentle, slow, loving kind.

If it leads to normal sex, it's probably going to take place on the same surface where he was lying on your lap (i.e. -- couch, bed, floor, etc.)

𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 (re: death island)

Giving you his lap:

Occasionally offers his lap to you. Doesn't do it too much because he's not always thinking about it

Most of the time his offers are either because you're sad or because you're watching something together

&

His thighs are a mix between hard and soft. He's pretty muscular, so at first you'd be expecting more of a solid feeling, but it's not as bad as you'd have guessed. It's a just-right type of deal. (could be due to the fact that he's getting older...)

Isn't super touchy. He'll rest his arm along your body, maybe, but other than that he doesn't do anything too extra. The two of you kinda just enjoy the idle comfort from one another

Very chill kind of lover. Wouldn't get mad if you started getting a bit squirmy or tried readjusting your head's position every 3 seconds

If you have a bowl of popcorn, he's reaching in a grabbing handfuls for himself -- doesn't notice he's eating most of your snack either. (he'll apologize and get up to make another bowl for the both of you, though. And then he'll eat most of that, too)

& NSFW

I don't see him initiating anything out of the blue, or even if he's turned on in this scenario. I do think though that if he got a boner, he'd kinda just awkwardly wait for it to go down. In that case, you'd be the initiator, offering to help him out

Would be fine stopping after reaching his orgasm. Might offer to play with you using his hands. He'd be open to sex if you suggested it.

Using your lap:

Never lays in your lap on his own. Often turns you down when you offer him to lay in your lap

I feel like he likes being in more dominant positions, if that makes sense? He likes being the big-spoon, while you're the little spoon

&

In the rare occurrence that you do get him on your lap, it's just kinda awkward. He just lies there with his arms crossed

Tries to get comfortable, but can't. He's a big guy, so it's a little tricky for him

Tries his best to stay on your lap if that's what you want, but eventually gives up. Offers for you to either lay on his lap or lay against his chest instead

& NSFW

Not much, if any nsfw things result from this scenario

Maybe if you started running your hands along his arms or touching on his chest, something would happen. He'd probably make a flirty joke about you feeling him up, and then things would go on from there

𝕰𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 (re7, re8)

Giving you his lap:

Offers his lap whenever he's trying to be romantic or considerate of you. Really only offers because he thinks you like it

Not to say that he doesn't like it -- he'll take any kind of touch from you -- he just doesn't have any kind of preference. Touch is touch

&

He's got soft thighs. He's not built, but he's not in bad shape either -- he's got a very average build, so his legs are pretty comfortable to lay on.

A lot of the time, he plans to ask you if you want to lay on his lap beforehand. He'll make snacks and lay them out on the coffee table, or he'll light some candles in the bedroom -- it all feels very loving and soft

He likes to place his arm under yours and hold your hand while you watch something. He does the circular thumb movement, too

If you have a baby together, and it starts to cry, he'll grab a pillow and put it down under your head before going to check on the child

& NSFW

Honestly, you're the one jumping him most of the time, and it's not because he doesn't take initiative -- it's because the way he cares for you turns you on

Usually starts once you lean up to kiss him...and keep kissing him

If you're in the living room, he takes you to the bedroom to have sex. It's the kind that's very gentle, slow, and passionate

He gives great aftercare, too. Cleans you both up, and carries you to the shower if you want to take one

Using your lap:

He'll lay in your lap if you suggest it to him, although he doesn't do it on his own very much.

Thinks it's cute when you ask him, and he cracks jokes as he goes to lie down

&

Makes sure to be very still. Tries not to readjust his head too much, thinking he might annoy you with it

Usually keeps his arms crossed when his head's on your lap. Again, tries not to move too frequently

If you have a kid, they'll try to take your other leg, and Ethan thinks it's funny that you've got two people on your lap

Your kid will request that you pet their head, and Ethan will follow along teasingly. You end up running your hands through both of their hair

& NSFW

If he starts rubbing your knee or the area above it, you know he's trying to start something up

You often say something along the lines of, "I know what you're trying to do," and he laughs and admits it

He'll lean up and kiss you, and then the two of you will take things to the bedroom. Again, you have very gentle, slow sex -- plus good aftercare

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re2r)

Giving you his lap:

Will offer you his lap sometimes -- he can be a little absent-minded, so it's pretty much an occasional thing unless he notices you frequently putting yourself in his lap

He's a little shy about you laying on his legs, but he likes it a lot

&

He's got really comfortable thighs to lay on. They've got a slight bit of muscle to them, but not too much

He's a little awkward when it comes to knowing what to do with his hands. He'll pet your head, but he does so with a strange rhythm -- or accidentally yank a little bit of your hair. He then apologizes profusely and pulls his hand away. If you want him to keep touching you in some way, you have to guide his arm/hand down and place it where you want it

The first few times you lay on his lap, he's pretty stiff. As your relationship continues, however, he gets used to it

Will quietly fall asleep after a while and you won't even know it until you try saying something, noticing that he isn't responding

Occasionally mumbles stupid stuff in his sleep. Sometimes you can hold a conversation with him and he won't even remember it

& NSFW

You're the one who initiates it most of the time. He'll get a boner and you'll tease him -- he'll flirtatiously tease back, and you'll end up servicing him where you're sitting

If you're in the living room he worries about staining the couch, but will let you continue if you tell him to not worry about it

Passionate, fairly vanilla sex. He doesn't really like being too rough with you because he worries he might be hurting you

Decent aftercare -- he cleans you up first, and once you're both cleaned up, he asks if you want to go back to lying on his lap

Using your lap:

Only occasionally he will put himself on your lap of his own volition. Usually, you're the one to ask him if he wants to use your legs as a pillow, and agree

Very rarely turns you down, if at all. It makes him really happy when you offer your lap up to him

&

Tells you almost every time how comfortable your thighs feel.

He likes it a lot when you touch him. Leon likes you petting his hair, rubbing his arm, but his favorite out of every option is when you take his hand and hold it. It feels like a very tender moment to him

Likes to talk to you while he's on you. Whether it be about the show you're watching, his day, your day -- he's talking

Sometimes he will spell things out on your leg using his finger and make you guess what it says. It's usually something random like "cactus," or "pizza"

& NSFW

The two of you will tease and flirt with one another, and that's what leads to things heating up. He'll sit up and start to kiss you, and that's typically the cue that the two of you will be having sex

Sometimes he starts with oral in this kind of scenario, sometimes it just leads straight to a little bit of foreplay then sex

Again, very vanilla, but loving and caring sex. He gives good aftercare here, too

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re4r)

Giving you his lap:

Knows when you could use his lap, and offers it accordingly. He has a good sense of what you need, and when -- even when you're not upset

Feels very comforted when you accept, and likes the feeling of your weight on him

&

He has really nice legs, and they're fairly soft. They aren't as cushiony as when he was younger (re2r), but still comfortable to lie on

No longer awkward with his hands, knows exactly what to do with them. He's got very smooth, rhythmic movements as well

Doesn't fall asleep with you in his lap as much as he used to, but it'll happen occasionally. He tries his best to stay awake, wanting to spend time with you -- even though it's hard for him because he doesn't get as much sleep anymore and he gets really relaxed with you around him

If you feel him up, he'll laugh and tease you about it. He thinks it's funny when you poke into the fatty-muscled part of his arms and legs

& NSFW

Using him as a lap pillow leads to nsfw things quite a lot. Sometimes it's started by you touching him up, sometimes it's started by back-and-forth teasing, sometimes it's started by him asking for a kiss

The sex has gotten a little less vanilla over time -- nothing too crazy, but the two of you have definitely explored many more positions, kinks, etc. as time went on

He's got a routine down for aftercare as well -- the two of you know what the other likes, meaning that you're both left feeling pretty satisfied after the deed is done

Using your lap:

Doesn't really put himself on your lap randomly anymore. Over time, he's realized he prefers having you on his legs instead -- but he's not against laying on your thighs

If he does put himself on you, it's usually for good-times sake

&

He still compliments you on how soft your legs are

Leon falls asleep much more on your lap than when you're on his. Sometimes it knocks him out right away -- he just can't help it

Loves when you move his bangs out of his eyes, especially if the two of you are watching something

He now automatically takes your hand in his, holding it. He doesn't let it go, either, even if he falls asleep in your lap. There's no getting it back until the two of you separate

Doesn't make conversation as much as he used too -- as he got more comfortable over time, he didn't always feel the need to fill in the silent gaps. He does make quite a few quippy one-liners if you're watching something, though

Leon still plays the word-drawing game with his finger on your body, except now he chooses harder words like "potassium," or "armadillo" (though, sometimes, he misspells them and the two of you laugh about it)

& NSFW

His new cue for initiating sex is by squeezing and playing with your leg -- although flirting and teasing still leads to sex between the two of you a lot, also.

The sex ranges from slow and gentle, to fast and passionate. It just depends on what kind of mood the two of you are in

Again, the two of you have a pretty good aftercare routine going, and you're usually very cuddly with one another once you've both finished

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re6)

Giving you his lap:

Even years later, he's still really good at predicting when you want to use his lap. He offers it at all the right times

Thinks it's cute that the two of you have this years-long tradition going on. He jokes that someday, you'll be in the retirement home together trying to get onto his lap haphazardly

&

His legs got a lot more hard as time went on. You joke around, telling him that he's hard as a brick now -- but you secretly still enjoy resting on his lap as much as you used to when his thighs were softer

Falls asleep a lot like he did in the beginning -- he's getting old and more tired as time goes on. However, he is good at staying awake if the two of you are watching something

If you like to watch reality TV, he shits all over it/the people in it (He secretly likes it though; his favorite is The Bachelor)

You've started joking around with him, telling him to take his shirt off when you're in his lap -- you tell him that you don't know how many years left you'll have to look at his abs, and that you need to enjoy them thoroughly before they're gone (he only laughs and tells you he'll have them forever, 'till the day he dies)

& NSFW

Still leads to nsfw things, although not as much as when the two of you were younger

You're not as wild, doing crazy positions -- but you do try different, smaller things to spice it up in the bedroom occasionally

Aftercare is still the same, although sometimes you're the one cleaning him up now -- for some reason, despite his job, sex seems to take the life out of him

Using your lap:

Started putting his head back onto your lap more. He does it in a joking manner, but it became special to him overtime due to your guys' history of doing it

If you have a kid, and they like putting their head on your lap, he uses them as an excuse. He'll make some silly joke, telling you that he needs attention, too

&

Instead of complimenting your legs, he now presses kisses to them randomly. He knows that over time you became a little more conscious of your body, so he started doing this to ensure you he still thinks you're beautiful

Both him and your kid will fall asleep on your lap. Sometimes one of them will snore really loud and wake the other up --you try to stifle a laugh every time it happens

Lets you or your kid tie his bangs up so that he can see the TV without them getting in his eyes. He thinks it's funny

Still makes you put your arm around him, holding onto his hand. Over time, he's started kissing it every once in a while, as well. He's very affectionate with you

The finger word-drawing game has reached a new height. He has started googling impossibly long and difficult words. You can't even beat him anymore -- and you can never tell if he's actually spelling the words right

& NSFW

Leon still squeezes your leg to signal that he wants you -- although he's a little less playful with it, as he's conscious that you're a little more sensitive about your body nowadays

Again, pretty normal sex-life for your ages -- if not a little more frequent than others like your peers

Your aftercare is still the same as well. You and Leon have no complaints, and the two of you will likely continue your routine until you can't anymore

For the official and original Kinktober 23 prompts, check here. Credits to @kinktober2023 for the ideas!

#albert wesker x reader #albert wesker smut #albert wesker #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira smut #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos resident evil #carlos oliveira fluff #chris redfield smut #chris redfield #chris resident evil #ethan winters #leon resident evil #leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon re2 #leon re4r #leon re6 #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #re headcanons #leon headcanons #resident evil headcanons

[larvamars]

boys

#leon kennedy #carlos oliveira #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #re4 fanart #re3 carlos #re3 remake #resident evil 3 #art #digital art #artwork #fan art #fanart

[cheesesoda]

resident evil men as parents!

a/n: i had this idea randomly so i wanted to write some headcanons 💪 lmk if you wanna see the girls as parents! (i might edit these headcanons and add more later too)

cw: slight mention of smoking and alcohol

genre: fluff, headcanons/blurb

______________________________________________

leon kennedy

leon is a girl dad!

cried when she was born

from when she was born until age 1 he would just go into her room at night and watch her sleep

he spoils her fr

youll come home late from work (well past her bedtime)

there they are making ice cream sundaes in the kitchen

he participates in tea parties and he enjoys it

he tells even MORE dad jokes now

very protective

tries to drink less after his daughter is born

chris redfield

chris is a girl and boy dad!

i think he has 1 boy (older) and 1 girl (younger)

like him and claire

was in awe when his kids were born

“oh my god she/he’s so small”

auntie claire babysits all the time

teaches his son to play football

honestly i think he’d be protective of his daughter but not as much as the others because he would teach her self defense from a young age

ethan winters

ethan is a girl dad! (which we already knew)

we already know what hes like as a dad but i’ll still write a bit for him

100% cried so hard when his daughter was born

best husband and father

definitely bought every brand of diapers because he didnt know what to get

hes very affectionate and caring to his daughter

i don’t see him as the type of dad to kill any guy who speaks to her once shes older

if someone breaks her heart tho mans just might kill

albert wesker

wesker is a boy dad!

very calm when he was born

not very affectionate

he does care he just doesn’t show it very well

luis sera

luis is a girl and boy dad!

i think he’d have 2 or 3 kids

if he had 2 kids, he’d have 1 girl (older) and 1 boy (younger)

if he had 3 kids, he’d have 2 girls (oldest & youngest) and 1 boy (middle)

definitely sets a very high bar for how his daughter/s should be treated

teaches his son to be a gentleman definitely

loves all his kids so much

smokes less after his kids are born and would rather die than expose them to cigarette smoke especially when they’re babies

carlos oliveira

carlos is a girl and boy dad!

you cannot tell me this man does not want a village of children

he would probably have 4 kids

i think he’d have 3 boys and 1 girl

has the biggest soft spot for his kids

he’s very non-toxic masculine with his sons

he always tells them he loves them, hugs them, etc.

he also has tea parties with his daughter

#resident evil #leon kennedy #chris redfield #ethan winters #luis sera #carlos oliveira #albert wesker #leon kennedy x reader #ethan winters x reader #chris redfield x reader #luis sera x reader #carlos oliveria x reader #albert wesker x reader #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy

[mrswint3rs]

will you do the porn links thing for resident evil characters?

-🌂

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 (fem viewer)

Includes links for the following ^ + Heisenberg (couldn’t fit him in the pic)

I’ll do the girls next if y’all want!!

cw- some daddy kink stuff, belly bulge, overstimulation, face fucking, and pussy slapping 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Leon [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7] [Link 8]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Luis [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Chris [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Carlos [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Wesker [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Ethan [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

Heisenberg [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] [Link 4] [Link 5]

[Link 6] [Link 7]

#resident evil #resident evil links #leon s kennedy #leon #leon links #carlos oliveira #chris redfield #karl heisenberg #albert wesker #wesker #luis sera #luis sera navarro #ethan winters #twitter links #re links #resident evil 4 #resident evil village #resident evil 5 #resident evil 7 #resident evil 3 #resident evil 8 #🌂anon #anon ask #leon twitter links

[eerizon]

carlos and jill in my resident evil: figure skating!au :D

+ a doodle of claire and sherry

#resident evil #resident evil 1 #resident evil 3 #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #claire redfield #sherry birkin #digital art #fanart #art #re: figure skating!au