#jill beans valentine
Text
Kitten farts are the WORST oh my god
#jill's food smells so bad/strongly and it is only worse qhen she's done with it#she's hyper and rolling around on my lap like a maniac in between playing fetch#and she just gassed me. i'm dying#cats#kittens#jill the cat#jill beans valentine#jillybean
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾
PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!
WORD COUNT: 7.4K+
DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.
AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.
The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.
They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.
It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.
A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.
It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.
Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.
The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.
It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.
It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.
“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.
The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.
Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.
Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.
‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.
“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.
“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.
Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.
Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.
Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.
You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.
To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?
Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.
“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.
Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.
Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.
Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.
One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.
“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.
Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.
She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.
You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.
Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).
You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.
Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.
You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.
‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.
“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”
An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.
“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.
“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.
The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.
You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.
“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.
“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.
“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.
“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.
“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.
“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.
“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.
“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.
Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.
“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.
‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’
Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.
The ride to her apartment.
Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.
You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.
The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.
After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.
She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.
With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.
“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.
“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.
She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.
“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.
She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.
“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.
You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.
Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.
What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.
“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.
“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.
“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.
“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.
“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.
“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”
The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.
Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.
“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”
Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.
“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.
Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.
“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”
You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.
“No, I”-
Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.
“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.
She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.
Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.
“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.
You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.
“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”
The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.
The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.
Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.
“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”
But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”
And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.
With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.
Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.
Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.
Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.
“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.
She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.
“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.
You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.
“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.
“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.
She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.
“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.
A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.
Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.
“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”
“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.
“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.
But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.
“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.
“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.
You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.
“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.
Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.
“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.
Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.
“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”
She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.
“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.
The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.
A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.
“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”
As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.
Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.
“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”
Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.
Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.
The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.
“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.
“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.
#bloodcasket#resident evil smut#jill valentine smut#resident evil x reader#jill valentine x you#jill x reader#jill valentine fanfiction#jill valentine x reader#jill fanfic#lesbian
752 notes
·
View notes
Note
i love that new bubble tea fic how did u know i was craving some - what do you think leon's and rebecca's bubble tea order would be?
-🍫
⦑ 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐚 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⦒
[ part one ]
read part two here (ethan winters, jill valentine, jack krauser, claire redfield)
read the 'boba tea date' fic here (leon kennedy x gn! reader)
characters: leon kennedy, rebecca chambers, chris redfield, ashley graham, carlos oliveira & ada wong
a/n: funny you asked, because i had a convo ab this with my friend hahha! also added some other characters too ;) what other characters should i do?
content: SFW
LEON KENNEDY
Ever since that date, he sneaks off when you're not around to try all the flavours.
He would be a sweet tooth (despite how passionately he will deny this), and orders the limited edition seasaonal tea with extra foam on top! Always 100% ice and sugar.
He's a closet sweet-tooth (especially RE2 Leon, he looks like he pretends to like coffee, inspired by this)
When you find an empty cup in the bin, he will act nonchalant and say "Oh I happen to pass by for work".
But you already know he's lying when you found a membership card in the frontest pocket of his wallet - probably eligible for a few free drinks at this point.
REBECCA CHAMBERS
Caramel milk tea with pudding. Extra sugar and standard ice.
She likes sugar, and she's not afraid to admit it!
Always get the large size since she works long hours in the lab, so she sips away her drink throughout her shift.
Probably hyped up the shop to all her colleagues already, hoping to find a companion to join her.
Very close with the shop manager since she goes there daily - will chat and banter with them
CHRIS REDFIELD
He would just get plain black tea, no sugar and less ice.
To keep up with his physique and body fat percentage low, he doesn't usually drink unless you drag him there.
Raves on about the antioxidants in black tea and how it's good for you (such a health nerd)
Starts complaining 'it's too sweet' everytime he sips on any of your drinks - apparently even a hint of sugar is too much for this old man sometimes.
ASHLEY GRAHAM
Matcha with fresh milk, extra sugar, cream on top, and mini pearls!
I think she will start drinking mango fruit tea/fruity with popping pearls but eventually branches out to matcha.
She probably thought of doing a bottomless bubble tea stand for her dream wedding ceremony.
I think she would get along with Rebecca with their mutual love for bubble tea! I think they'll be such good friends if not their age differences!
CARLOS OLIVEIRA
Normally, Carlos orders a very normal coconut green tea with no modifications.
Until one day he decides to be really cheeky and order it with every topping the shop has to offer
Rainbow jelly, pearls, pudding, grass jelly, etc. (yes, even red beans)
So many toppings that only half of the cup is liquid and the other half is a concoction of chaos
Bobarista is terrified, but Carlos is grinning widely
Still inhales the whole drink in less than an hour anyway
ADA WONG
She will go for a warm brewed tea (thinking between oolong or earl grey), no toppings or sugar.
Don't think she enjoys iced drinks in general, rather have warm/hot drinks or just plain water.
Something in the bubble tea gives her acne breakouts so she avoids it. Plus her job is so busy that it doesn't allow her such luxuries.
Might indulge in extra sugar if she wants a treat, but suffers the consequences later.
thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose.
tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost @femnedy @emilzke (not sure people tag for headcanons? but here it is anyway xd)
© roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
#꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱#leon s kennedy#rebecca chambers#ada wong#carlos oliveira#chris redfield#ashley graham#resident evil headcanons#resident evil imagine#resident evil fluff#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#꒰💌 letters to rose ♡.꒱#carlos oliveira x reader#꒰💫 rose headcanons ♡.꒱#chris redfield x reader#꒰🍫.꒱#resident evil
216 notes
·
View notes
Note
Al! Al I did it!
I got a baby
Seriously considering naming her Jill Valentine. Or Beans.
She's wonderful. Thank you for inspiring me to adopt a new baby kitty
SHE IS SO PRECIOUSSSSS! I love her wittle pink nose. And her huge eyes that see into other worlds.
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
can’t read even 1/4 of the het ships in this tag because people put all the women into such tradwife roles it makes me want to vomit, so here are my headcanons when it comes to cooking abilities
Jill Valentine- Military rationing because it’s less time consuming. She cooks once and makes enough food to eat on for two weeks. She will eat that soup/beans&rice/chili for every other meal until she runs out. All her recipes are “throw everything in a pot and let it simmer overnight” style. Anything that has her sauteing, baking, or frying will get burned since she gets distracted doing other more important stuff.
Rebecca Chambers- Does not cook. Can not cook. Has not figured out how to cook. Take-out Queen. She can find a good restaurant or cafe in any area and this skill was honed on purpose. Hates long wait times for food though, so if she can she’ll send someone else to get her food/drinks.
Claire Redfield- Cooking level is tolerable as in she can follow easy recipes when there’s a video to watch, but may get an ingredient or measurement wrong and wonder why the dish tastes off. Anything more complicated than meatloaf or country fried steak is her nemesis.
Ada Wong- Fucking hates cooking. Can cook something decent with the littlest variety of ingredients, but hates it so much. She hates the mess during prep time, the mess during cooking, and the clean up afterwards. Hires a personal chef where she can or goes out to eat. (Before anyone disagrees saying she doesn’t trust strangers this much, consider she has a lot of money from her jobs and most people do not actually know who the fuck she is.)
Sherry Birkin- Substitution Queen. Loves to cook, and loves to experiment with food even more. If she starts cooking and finds she’s missing an ingredient, she’ll look at other recipes to see if she can replace it with something else. Will finish eating her food experiments or new recipe attempts even if they’re a little bland while constructing ideas on how to make it better next time.
Ashley Graham- Cooks college student food even into adulthood. Lactose intolerant but ignores it. Her mom couldn’t cook, and no longer having a personal chef left her in the wild to figure things out. She will put together any strange combination of food for the taste and calories. She mixes cereals together. She mixes plain yogurt into her ramen. She will lovingly add a slice of cheese on top of the most white looking piece of baked chicken before adding hot sauce and sandwiching it between 9-grain wheat bread for the sake of getting some kind of fiber in her body.
Ingrid Hunnigan- The planner. She can follow almost any recipe without too much difficulty, and always makes sure she has all the ingredients before she starts. She cannot improv or substitute ingredients to save her life.
Sheva Alomar- Teaches herself how to cook a new recipe or better a current recipe when she has the time. Has 5 go-to recipes she’s mastered which everyone loves, but no consistent recipe book. Will default to military rationing where she’ll make a big pot of something and eat on it for a few days until she gets bored of it and goes out to eat. Forgets about ingredients she purchased and only used a little of, and they go bad making her feel guilty.
Helena Harper- Frozen meals or box meals where she adds a “secret ingredient” into whatever she cooks. The secret ingredient is always cayenne pepper or bouillon powder.
Mia Winters- Can cook only the most white american food possible, but thankfully is not afraid of spices or spicy food. Hamburgers, steak, casseroles, tuna salad, and so on, she can manage pretty well. Any “foreign” food is lost on her. The first time Ethan brought home an avocado with plans to make guacamole, he caught her using a potato peeler on it.
Let me know if you’d like a similar list with the men of RE.
#resident evil#re#headcanons#might make that list of the men anyway#jill vallentine#rebecca chambers#claire redfield#ada wong#sherry birkin#sheva alomar#ingrid hunnigan#ashley graham#helena harper#mia winters
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little butterfly
Albert wesker x reader , part 2
Smut minors DNI , angst
Tw: dubcon borderline noncon
The soft hand stroking your quivering body as his eyes bored into your exhausted form. Brain mushed from your previous orgasms , your hazy eyes watched him get out. All the bliss you felt before has left your body in an instant as he started dressing up in a hurry. His back turned towards you as he walked to the door silently. Your lips trembled as you bit them down furiously.
Walking after was always hard , you enjoyed the slight leftover pain. Thinking of it as his mark inside you. Proof that you meant more to him than others in his life, more than her. The bathroom was sparkling clean as usual and the cold water didn’t help the fire like pain in your chest. A sob stuck in your throat as you tried to hold yourself together. Being left alone always makes you feel unclean , filthy , tainted.
‘Clean up and leave’ repeated in your mind like a chantra as you scrubbed yourself raw. Eyes glossy with unshed tears , throat sore from the lump stuck inside it , and body burning from the constant cleanly. You were almost done when your knees buckled. This made you let out the bitterness seep through with a frustrated scream. Your scream turned into a full blown breakdown as he leaned over the outside door listening.
Make sure nobody sees you leave
Hood over your head, keep your eyes down
Tell your friends you're out for a run
You'll be flushed when you return
When did it all start ? Your first day at work has been a bit awkward with all the new faces but they were nice enough. An intern at the Raccoon City Police department. The eyes were on you as you tried your best not to mess up.
“Hey , newbie”
Your body straightened up instantly as you turned toward the playful voice. His uniform had S.T.A.R.S written on it and it was all you needed to see for your nerves to flair again.
“Calm down rookie , no one will eat you alive.”
He laughed as he patted your shoulder slightly. You giggled like a fangirl as your eyes settled at him. Chris Redfiled was popular between the staff and you recognized him thanks to them. He looked as friendly as he sounded.
“Are you sure ? I’m very tasty !”
He blinked at you trying to register what he heard before he started laughing hard.
“It’s official , I like you”
Your ginned at him and replied back
“Oh my I’m a lucky girl”
An annoyed snarl came from behind, cutting your conversion short.
“Stop wasting your time and get to work”
You whipped your neck so fast it almost broke as it landed on his back. He didn’t even bother looking back at you , just scolded his subordinate and left. Why does he always give you his back ? Why do you always have to watch him walk away ?
Take the road less traveled by
Tell yourself you can always stop
What started in beautiful rooms
Ends with meetings in parking lots
He always wore that damned ring , everyday you watched him work with it in his finger. No one knows who the lucky madam is , he’s too overprotective to drag her around. A man of many enemies wanted to keep his woman hidden only for himself. Away from anyone that would dare harm her. The same man who orders dozens of flowers every valentine and leaves early with his head held high.
He caught you staring once more and you looked down with an embarrassed blush. His lips turned up with a smirk before resuming his work. The heat traveled from your cheeks to your neck and ears , the way you acted like a high schooler with a crush towards your superior was shameful but you couldn’t help yourself.
Jill’s voice interrupted your self pity party as she shook her empty coffee mug. You straightened up and headed to the kitchen , as the internet was your job. You helped with official business every once and a while but it’s mostly coffee and food runs. Filling the pot became a routine you enjoyed as coffee was your guilty pleasure.
The fact that the department would allow you to buy the expensive beans you love dearly and adding them to the budget was a dream come true. The fresh smell of fresh brew reached your noise as you took it off and headed to do your rounds. This type was a rare treat for you , until you brought it once to work and it became a must for everyone else.
You tried to hide the proud smile as gloomy faces brightened up at the look of the hot pot in your hand. Starting with Wesker's and Marini’s desks. The latter gave you a grateful smile and his usual flirty comment.
“You’re our Angel , you know that right ?”
Giggling in response you turned to Chris who was the closest to you and poured him as well.
“He’s right , I can’t start my morning without you”
“If you like me that much , why don’t you take me to lunch?”
You raised your eyebrows at him slyly and he rubbed his neck as his usual nervous tic.
“Are you free today ? I know a good plac…”
“Redfield ! Where is Marcus file’s ?”
The barking voice of the alpha’s team leader cut through your conversion like a knife.
“There’s not much in it , he’s been missing for so long that ….”
“Are you telling me you gave up on it ? When I just assigned it to you ?”
This made Chris straightened up as you felt a glare on your back , you walked away from his desk to Jill’s. You felt so bad for Chris but he should’ve known better. Wesker always had it for him for some reason and it was the cause of gossip around in the office.
“And you”
His voice still held its angry tone as you snapped back to look at his covered eyes.
“Stay back after work , I need to speak to you privately”
Panic took over as you tried to keep the coffee run going without shaking. Sympathetic eyes followed you.
“Yes sir”
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and longing stares
It's born from just one single glance
But it dies, and it dies, and it dies
A million little times.
Your knees ached from your weight as your jaw went sore. The warm hand on your head guided you as he groaned on top of you. Tongue clumsily trying to lick the vein under his cock , his fingers laced in your hair and tugged hard. Looking on top of him through your eyelashes , a gush of wetness went between your legs.
His eyes closed , head thrown back , legs spread to accommodate you , and the stiffness he usually held between his shoulders disappeared. His sunglasses rested on the desk as you tried to please him. Head popping in the rhythm he desires.
The hand on you pushed you down suddenly , as tears ran down your face caused by the gagging. Your throat constricted as an objection to his sudden action. A deep growl came from his throat as the salty taste of his seeds filled your mouth and dropped out with the salvia.
He held you down as his blue eyes opened and stared down at the pathetic state he left you in. A smirk formed at his lips as he pulled your head back, his member leaving your lips with a plop. You straightened yourself , legs popping in protest as you reached for a napkin. You’re sure you looked absolutely horrendous.
Wiping your face clean as much as you can , his arms wrapped around you and pulled you to his lap. A yelp left your lips as you felt a hand makes it ways under your skirt and pushing your underwear aside. The rough finger enter you almost caused you to scream.
“I don’t need to tell you why no one should know, do I dear heart ?”
His gruff voice in your ear made you clinch around his finger as you nodded almost desperately. Your hips moved on his thigh as he fucked you with his digit , the friction driving you half insane. Pain shot from your neck as his teeth broke skin from the force of the bite. The pain and pleasure made your mind hazy.
An intense sensation jolted your body as he hit that spot. He smirked between his kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders , making sure to rub that spongy muscle over and over. Your legs and thighs started quivering as you tipped over the edge. His uniform pants are stained with your juices and the wet sounds of your need.
Leave the perfume on the shelf
That you picked out just for him
So you leave no trace behind
Like you don't even exist
You’ve heard stories about people getting stomach aches because of anxiety but experiencing yourself was aganzing. The lights were blindingly bright and the music were deafeningly loud. The place was overcrowded and your senses were overwhelmed. The only thing stopping you from running was the hand clasped around your wrist. The entire squad decided to hit the club after finishing a difficult mission to unwind.
Forming a chain to not separate , you were stuck through the waves of people around you. Making sure to grip Richard's hand behind you tightly , you advanced with the rest towards the bar. Chris hand never let go of yours. Your vision cleared a bit and the sight of the two captains sitting together sipping what seemed like fancy drinks on ice caught your attention.
You let go of Richard’s hand as he headed towards the rest but the hand that held you never let go. You looked up to see Chris rubbing his neck with embarrassment. His eyes shifted to the side before he took a deep breath and turned towards you.
“Do you want to dance ?”
That question took you by surprise as your eyes flickered to your secret lover but he was too deep in conversation to notice you. “Your lover” ? A bitter laugh almost erupted through your chest. He made it very clear what you were. A side piece he uses until he’s bored. He’s never yours and you know it. Looking at the man in front of you as he shifted his stand and smiled brightly. Tugging him into the dance floor.
Wesker cares about his own enjoyment and fun so you should do the same. After all , if he's not yours then you’re not his. Chris moved surprisingly smoothly for a man his size. His biceps would automatically flex every time you touched it making you squeeze it in return. You both laughed as you danced around the crowd.
Jill came over to join you both with drinks in hand. She was slightly tipsy and demanded you share a shot with her. Giggling uncontrollably as Chris' face turned sore from the strong shot. Jill didn’t come to play clearly and you joined them as well. The alcohol burnt your throat but you didn’t care. You were happier than you’ve been in a while and glowed on the dance floor.
Moving your hips in time together, the burning sensation of eyes on your back never let up. Someone was watching you so intensely as you had your fun and you didn’t care to check who they were. Chris spun you once more causing you to almost trip but he caught you. Your hands on his arms as they twitched under your touch. You both made eye contact causing an extreme desire to just lean in.
“Are you two drunk ? Don’t forget we have work tomorrow”
In an almost venom-like tone , Wesker came in behind Chris. His eyes never left your form as you both separated instantly. The weight of his glare made you hunch your shoulders in shame , the prickly pain in your chest returned once more as you excused yourself. Heading towards the exit before anyone could stop you through the crowds once more.
The cool night air calmed your warm body as you tried to stabilize yourself near the wall. Hands clumsily trying to get an Uber while fighting tears. He had no business to ruin your fun but instead of being angry at him , you felt slight happiness thinking he’d be jealous over you. The needle-like pain in your heart screamed at your hopeless thoughts.
A hand snatched your phone from you and pushed you into a dark alley. Your screams are muffled by the familiar feeling of a biting kiss. His scent invaded your nose as his body trapped you against the wall and his rough hand grabbed your thigh from under your dress. Pain shot through your lips as he bit down hard bruising it. Before pulling away.
“You’re mine”
Take the words for what they are
A dwindling, mercurial high
A drug that only worked
The first few hundred times
Sitting in the dark wasn’t your favorite hobby , let alone working in the dark. However, a sudden power outage forced everyone in the station to work in almost pitch black. There were some scented candles around that the members used to form a circle of light and pushed their desks near it to work. Causing your eyesight to be strained as you wrote everything down by hand. The computers were useless but those forms had to be done today.
The flapping in the dim light caught multiple people's attention. A butterfly seemed to have snuck it’s way in the precinct distracting the people around it. The small feature landed on your hand as you smiled down at it. You can’t make out the colors because of the darkness but it was beautiful. The butterfly suddenly flew away and straight toward the candle light.
You gasped as you tried to grab it away, burning your fingers as a result. You heard Rebecca’s scolding tone as the poor creature’s wings were burnt and it flapped in agony in your palm. She shifted away to get the first aid kit while you wanted to cry. The small life that touched you was gone in a second because it flew too close to the warmth it seeked.
The lights were back on as the medic applied the burn cream to your fingers. The slight pain was nothing compared to how conflicted your thoughts were at the moment. The sight of Wesker leaving with a smirk as the other captain teased him about his “strict madam”. Nothing in the world could make him stay past his work time and he took pride in saying how sad his wife would be if he was late. The bitterness and resentment burnt its way deeply within you as you headed back to your computer.
A sudden buzz in your phone made you look up. You opened the test from an unknown number.
‘I’m waiting for you outside
W’
Sending the last email you needed to , you picked up your stuff and said your goodbyes. Only the true workaholic stayed more than they needed to - or Chris when he messed up his paperwork so bad he needed to redo them - so no one paid any attention to you. The black car waited for you outside. as you opened the passenger door you blurted a snarky remake.
“Not going to see the Mrs today ?”
He let out an amused huff before he turned towards you.
“Jealousy isn’t a good color on you little butterfly but if you must know , she’s on a vacation. My darling has been so stressed lately that I wanted to spoil her”
Did he just call you ‘little butterfly’ ? You chewed on your lips in frustration as he drove towards the usual hotel. Because that’s where men take their whores , a hotel and not their home.
“I’m thinking about divorce”
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and stolen stares
They show their truth one single time
But they lie, and they lie, and they lie
A million little times
Laying on your bed sobbing , all you can think of was his treachery. You knew he was a cruel man but giving you hope only to take it away was heartless. He never left her but instead took a week off for a ‘family vacation’. You had to find out the next day at the office when he wasn’t there. He lied through his teeth as you both had one of the most passionate nights in your life.
You were so happy with the thought of finally having him - all of him - to yourself alone. He ravaged you so hard you can still feel him as you move. The black hole in your chest returned with full force eating away any of the happiness you felt that day. You wanted to tell someone so badly but you can’t. You’ll be the slut who’s sleeping with a married man and forever shamed. The whore who slept her way to the top with her supervisor. Undeserving of her job or any promotion that’s to come.
The sudden phone ringing broke you out of your episode of crying and self loathing. ‘W’ was flashing on your screen as you turned it off. He can’t just go have fun with his wife for a week after lying to you and expect you to answer him the moment he calls. As much as you’d like to say you have dignity , it’s been shattered the moment he walked into your life. You want this to be over so badly but he’s like a drug you can’t stop indulging yourself into. Your phone flashing screen irritated you as you turned off and threw it towards the other pillow.
Not even a half hour later , a frantic knock on your door interrupted you. Determined to isolate yourself from everyone you ignored it. The voice behind the door however forced you to stand up.
“I know you’re inside dearheart , now open up”
His voice was tinged with annoyance as he seemed pissed off that he had to come to you. The words left your lips before you could even stop them.
“Leave me alone ! I hate you !”
The anger bubbling inside you burst as you kept screaming.
“We’re over ! I don’t want to see you ever again and I quit !”
A silence followed as the tension in the air began to rise. You slowly stood up and headed towards the door , your ajar bedroom door should’ve made your words crystal clear. there was a silence on his end and no footsteps were heard. The breaking of your door lock made you stand straight with fear, as your captain walked into your house with silent anger. His posture was stiff as his hand held the crushed knob in it. His head turned towards you slowly as you can swear his eyes flashed red under his sunglasses. He took big threatening steps toward you as he slammed the door behind him , causing the farm to shake. you used this chance to run to your bedroom for cover.
His hand caught your wrist before you could make it through the door and he brought you against his hard chest. This made youscream once more.
“Fuck off and leave me alone !”
You were too hurt to care about your safety and all your survival instinct shut itself off. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed and climbed over it before you could get off. One of his hands covered your lips while the other tore away your shorts. You tried to shut your legs off but he pried it open and forced his fingers in. The wetness pooled in your core slowly as you teared up in shame.
“You hate me ? Then what is this ?”
He spoke through gritted teeth as he raised his wet gloved hand. He raised the hand that covered your lips and put it over your thigh raising your legs for a deeper angle. His brutal digits returned to your aching pussy once more. You wanted to scream - to protest - but all that came out was sobs and moans. He knew all your sweet sports and was hitting them to make a point. You tried pushing him away but it was like trying to push a boulder off.
His fingers left your core and the sound of the zipper made you thrash again. He pulled his belts off , looping them around your wrists for leverage before forcing his length inside as you let out a scream of pain and pleasure. He was too big even with the slight foreplay and a brutal pace was set before you could have a chance to adjust.
Your back arched and your hips moved in sync while he bit down on your neck harshly determined to make himself in you. His thrusts were too deep and too fast for you to keep a straight head , your orgasm building up faster than anything you’ve experienced before. Your tears never stopped as he flipped you over - still inside you - and raised your hips up.
Everything felt good and painful at once and your brain was fried. your arms were pulled behind your back and ached in protest to the weird angle. He used them to raise your upper body up as his other hand kept your hips in place. The angle combined with the shameful position sent you into orgasm after orgasm. His teeth sunk into as much flesh as it could with the simple purpose of making a point.
“Do you think you can just ignore you ? End things whenever you want and leave me behind ? Did you learn nothing from your little friend, little butterfly ?”
His voice invaded your tormented mind as he slapped your behind hard. A whimper left your throat at his words as he repeated the action over and over again.
“You’re mine. Everything about you belongs to me. You’re not allowed to leave. Do. You. Hear. Me. ?”
He empathized the last sentence with hard thrusts between his words. As you clinched against his dick for another orgasm , he pushed himself deep as his seeds filled your abused hole to the brim. Your quivering walls milking him until his last drop.
He stood up and zipped himself up before turning towards you.
“I will let this one fly because you’re so young but don’t fly too close to the fire, little butterfly or you’ll get burnt.”
And you wanna scream
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors
You know I can't see with anyone else
The luxurious bed sheets felt heavenly on your naked skin , the silky cold pillowcase caressed your cheeks softly and gentle touches of callous fingers on your arm was the perfect combination to a restful sleep. Your mind kept dozing off as you tried your hardest to stay awake but you were too comfortable to be able to fight it. He's rarely around you in such a serene moment and it feels like a waste to spend it sleeping.
“Do you know why Icarus fell ?”
His smooth voice growing huskier because of sleep made you open your eyes lazily.
“He burnt his wings while flying towards the sun ?”
“That is correct , does it not remind you of someone's little butterfly?”
Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you straighten yourself up while grabbing your things off the side table.
“Don’t call me that.”
Your voice came shakier than you would’ve liked as tears clouded your eyes once more. Couldn’t he just let you be happy for once ? He didn’t say anything as he watched you grab your clothes off the floor.
“They say he was smiling as his wings slowly burnt off. Do you know why ?”
Without looking back you got dressed despite the burning in your eyes. The shaking in your arms didn’t stop him from continuing his story.
“Icarus was so captivated by the sun's warmth and beauty he didn’t think about stopping. He knew he'd be the only one to ever reach it so he was burned. It's interesting , is it not a little butterfly?”
“Go to hell”
Your broken sobs won over as you stormed out of the bedroom towards the bathroom not giving him a single glance. Albert was the smartest man you know but he was killing you with his words without noticing. This entire story was meant to be a warning to you. ‘Don’t desire more or you’ll live to regret it’.
Holding the anguish screams inside your chest , you entered the shower trying to wipe your tears away. You only needed to wash off and leave. The smell of him was all over your body and you just wanted it off. Washing your feelings and all his lingering traces out of your system. The tip of your toes clashed with the sink making a loud scream of pain out.
It was like opening a flud with you collapsing on the floor crying loudly with your arms reaching out clumsily to open the shower. Hoping the sound of the water would mask your shameful outburst. He thinks little of you, it burns but you care too much of him. It breaks little pieces of your soul every time.
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this idiotic fool that you made me
You taught me a secret language
I can't speak with anyone else
Albert watched you walk away and only got up after hearing the door slam shut. He let out a frustrated sight as he glared down at the ring in his hand. Wearing it around helped him professionally and personally. The greatest cover up for him missing work at the police station and boosted his social status with umbrella’s suits. He noticed the way they treated Birkin differently after his marriage and he couldn’t let his friend get all the glory.
No one captured his special attention besides fluffing him sexually and even that didn’t last long. His body stiffened as your scream reached his ear. He can’t simply divorce his nonexistent wife and telling you the truth is out of the question. He had always planned ten steps ahead of everyone but your appearance took him off guard. He never intended to fall for anyone , he’s Albert wesker. He never ‘falls’ for anything and the sudden change both confused and angered him.
His ‘Little butterfly’ was fragile , sweet , and naive. Not noticing the loopholes in his half assed excuses as he went away to his research. Never questioning how his ‘wife’ is okay with him spending a night after night away even on holidays. Why she’s not present in any events or why no one knew what she looked like. He has the green eyed monster to thank for that.
Bringing up Icarus was him projecting and he knew it. It wasn’t her who was flying too close to the sun but him. He has a perfect airtight plan that would guarantee his immortality if he just followed it without calling her to his office the time it started. He couldn’t resist the urge to fly and pursue his desire determined it’ll go away on its own. The thought of Chris asking her out before he had a taste of her left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He bared his teeth in anger as Chris’s name came to mind. The younger man was brazen enough to put moves on his woman multiple times even when he laid claim to her time and time over. Too thick skulled to understand he stands no chance.
The alarm next to him rang, singling it’s time to get to work. He stared at the bathroom door for a moment before heading to the other bathroom with a sight. He’s flying too close to the sun with his sheer desire to own her , have her stand by him as his queen and he’s not sure he could stop before burning himself off.
And you know damn well
For you, I would ruin myself
A million little times
#albert wesker x reader#Chris redfield x reader#resident evil x reader#albert wesker#chris redfield#bunny writes#angst
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐨𝐨𝐨. HER FAVOURITE REASON ; jill valentine
pairing! jill valentine x gn!reader
synopsis! jill's nights were often spent without any sleep. she had many reasons, most of them involving her work and past events of her life. but yet one of them were you. her favourite reason
warnings! SMUT !! (its lowkey embarrassing to post 😞🙏), anyway its not a full thing theres just fingering, oral (f recieving), a bit of praising, its not much detailed && fluff
word count! 1.3k
note! dni if a minor writing/posting smut makes you uncomfortable please !! dedicated to the biggest jill fan ik enjoy ur filth mari 🤗🤗
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
Jill's nights were often sleepless. Reasons changed, of course, but the main ones usually were: 1, she couldn't convince her loud mind to fall into a dreamless sleep, meaning she spend the night sitting on a chair behind a kitchen table, her head resting uncomfortably in her hands as the events of July, 24th 1998 caught up to her, leaving her there to deal with the memories of the past. 2, she was sitting on her couch (which was pressed up against a wall, meaning every time she huffed in frustration and slammed her head backwards, she would hit the wall at the full force with a groan leaving her lips) and working on a case while her face expression told you just how she could pay attention to things she did.
And the third one reason was you.
Jill would totally lie if she said the only reason she was partly happy to return to her apartment wasn't because she knew you would be there waiting for her. The thought just kept her more excited and with every passing minute she couldn't take her eyes of the clock above her head, the annoying sound of ticking being more irritating than usual. And when the clock finally read 10pm, Jill Valentine stormed off with nothing but you on her mind and how the rest of the unexciting night would be spent.
Entering the smaller apartment and hanging her jacket next to the wooden door, she could smell the fresh beans of black coffee in the air of her home. The woman let a small smile lit up her face because the very familiar scent just reminded her more of you. Before you entered her life, Jill didn't like the smell of coffee. Hell, she still doesn't like it and would prefer to leave the windows open so the air could change while if she was gone. But you loved your coffee and if it made you happy, so be it. She can suffer the strong aroma for you.
Why you drank coffee just before you go to bed would be an unsolved mystery for her.
"[Name]? I'm back from work."
Not hearing your response right after her question brought some suspicion and worry into Jill's mind but after she heard some shuffling coming from your shared bedroom, she let out a sigh of relief. "I'm in the bedroom!"
That was enough of an answer to send Jill running into the room full of emotions and desires that belonged just to you.
You sat there on the bed with your shirt and loosely shorts hugging your body, your back pressed against the headboard as you looked up at Jill with your eyes wide open and a grin on your pretty lips. God, you really were a sight for sore eyes right now when you were here, in her bed looking confortable as ever. It warmed Jill's heart though that you choose to be there with her and not care about anything else.
"Hi."
"Hey."
You went to stand in front of your girlfriend whose capturing eyes never left your frame. Jill's arms found their way to rest on your hips as her lips slowly but with passion set down on your own, pressing hard enough to show you the eagerness and longing she preserved for you. But you wanted this night to be about her as she often couldn't fall asleep, maybe this would get her mind to relax and live a little of a normal life. Pressing your right knee between her legs, you swiftly spun the pair of you around and pushed Jill gently onto the bed, dropping into a position when you were left strangling her thighs with your palms next her stomach.
With a raise of her eyebrows, Jill couldn't help but let out a soft laugh as she tried to process the situation. She would lie if she said laying under you while you had the upper hand didn't get her excited. "Stealing my moves now, are you?"
"Someone has to reward you for your hard work, Valentine."
The 'removing clothes' part was really rushed as both of you wanted to get to the best part as quickly as it was possible but Jill still found some time to take and admire your features under the cheap lighting. You were almost as focused as she would get while reading reports from Raccoon City Police Department or when she would make an instant cup of Mac and Cheese and still mess it up somehow (she just wasn't the type for cooking, however there were things she was really good at).
"Why are you looking at me like that?" your question caught her a bit of guard but when the colder air hit now her exposed skin of her body she returned back to the reality.
"Why not?"
Pressing your warms lips against her in a sweet kiss, your fingers started to explore the already familiar route on her skin and you could feel the shiver that was running through her on your fingertips. She was so pretty under you, doing exactly as you told and shivering just from your touch alone. With a quick peck, you pulled away, glancing at her expression. Her eyebrows were scrunched in what seemed like concrentrion and her glossy lips were breathing out silent gasps of air.
"Already at loss of your words, Jill?"
You changed your playful teasing into a serious action when your fingers pressed against her clit, making the woman under you let out a surprising gasp at the not so soon expected touch. You liked your teasing when it came to her. Stretching her open, your thumb continued making a circling motion the way it was used to and you could tell from the face Jill was making that she in fact was at loss of words from the sudden pleasure filling her insides.
"Just like that, [Nickname], you're so good at this, go on."
Your heart jumped at her praise, it was good to hear some encouraging words coming from a woman who did so much good in her life and yet she was here, using her words to please you. Your fingers moved faster, making like scissors actions inside her you know she enjoys without any doubts. And as her wrist took yours into a soft hold, you predicted your moves right.
Jill Valentine came undone on your fingers, filling the air around you with her sweet noises of pleasure.
Her closed eyes opened to gaze tiredly into yours and from her look alone you could read the gratefulness in them. She grabbed you by the same wrist you've done things she adored and wiped her cum from them with touch of care. "Come on, let's sleep."
"Okay."
And as you hugged her tight towards you, you couldn't stop thinking about how lucky you've become. You had an amazing girlfriend that saves the fucking world and in the morning you would be greeted with the sight of her messy hair everywhere on her pretty face and her forehead tucked into your shoulder, knowing she slept like that because she was comfortable with you.
Not even her dusty apartment could make you leave her behind.
#dahlia.nsfw#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine x fem!reader#jill valentine x gn!reader#jill valentine smut#jill valentine blurb#jill valentine fic#jill valentine one shot#jill valentine fluff#resident evil x reader#resident evil x you#resident evil smut#resident evil jill#resident evil fluff
253 notes
·
View notes
Text
Introducing Resident Evil nomenclature Kandi bracelets to the shop! Each character with their name and nicknames (Ex: Jill Valentine, Supercop, Master of Unlocking, Jilly Bean etc...) has been threaded onto bracelets to show off your love for your favourite RE character!
These start at 8 USD and I ship all over the US! If you want a character not in the shop, DM me and I'll see what I can put together! Boosts are appreciated!
#Etsy#Etsy Shop#EtsyShop#Etsy Store#Etsy Seller#Etsy Sellers#Etsy Handmade#Etsy Sale#Resident Evil#RE#Dead by Daylight#DBD#RE8#RE4#REvil#RE5#Code Veronica#Albert Wesker#Wesker#DBD Wesker#The Mastermind#Leon S Kennedy#Ada Wong#Jill Valentine#Lady Dimitrescu#Chris Redfield#Rebecca Chambers#Ethan Winters#Claire Redfield#Alexia Ashford
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to do some dishes and feed the cats but I am crushed under the unshiftable weight of a sleeping kitten
Send help
196 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey @thatgoblin can we have Jill valentine x fem reader who like smol bean like 4 ft and quite and shy like she would hide behind Jill and when they cuddle Jill sees her girlfriend like a kitten
No.
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know my little 13 old sis is gay as fuck, like growl, i practically raised her since she was a smoll bean, like today she come out to me and I "I know already, you first crush was Palutena, then Jill Valentine, you told me at 10, that other girl you know was beautiful, and wanted to hold her hand forever" and besides now her other new crush is Donna Benevieto (don't worry i take extreme care on where she is at internet lol)
Growl🐯💀😭
Congrats to her coming out! Out here falling in love with powerful women, as she absolutely should! Please protect her from the horrors that is the Donna Beneviento tag💀💀💀
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
howdy! my name is charles. i'm 30. he/him pronouns. this is my multimuse blog.
i've done many rounds on tumblr, decided i was done, and was (as the prophecy declares) dragged back by friends. so this blog is going to be extremely private. i promise it's nothing personal if i don't follow back or don't interact: i'm tired and have a more than full time job and made this blog mostly to write with my friends.
that being said i suppose the biggest rule is just don't be a dick!
DNI: if you're under 21. it's just weird of me to interact with younglings.
below the cut is my muse list because i am incapable of being chill about how many muses i have.
THE 100
- john murphy
- bellamy blake
GLEE
- finn hudson
- sam evans
- artie abrams
TED LASSO
- roy kent
- jamie tartt
- ted lasso
DEGRASSI
- craig manning
- spinner mason
- eli goldsworthy
DEAD POETS SOCIETY
- charlie dalton
IT (BOOK BASED)
- richie tozier (fcs: seth green, caleb landry jones, alan tudyk)
- stanley uris (fcs: wyatt oleff, timothee chalamet, andy bean)
- bill denbrough ( fcs: jaeden martell, tanner buchanan, james mcavoy)
FAKES
- trystan smith
RESIDENT EVIL
- leon s. kennedy
- luis sera
- carlos oliveira
STARKID
- paul matthews
- ted spankoffski
- peter spankoffski
- ethan green
- richie lipschitz
- max jagerman
-wiggog y'wrath (wiggly)
COBRA KAI
- robby keene
- demetri alexopoulos
HAPPY DEATH DAY
- carter davis
STICK IT
- haley graham
ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING
- theo dimas
DAISY JONES AND THE SIX
- billy dunne
GILMORE GIRLS
- jess mariano
SAW
- adam stanheight
- mark hoffman
SHAMELESS (US)
- mickey milkovich
WIZARDS OF WAVERLY PLACE
alex russo
JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS
alex mercer
POWER RANGERS (2017)
jason scott
SPECTACULAR!
nikko alexander
ATTACK ON TITAN
reiner braun
levi ackerman
ORIGINAL CHARACTERS
- mace runebe
my bg3 tav. mace is a half elf druid who also leveled in rogue. his choices followed a mostly good playthrough with a couple little deviations. he was a street urchin and then a pirate before falling into the life of an adventurer.
- arlo kapadia
an oc inspired by the song 27 by fall out boy. for arlo i actually have two google docs here and here that lay out everything you need to know about him.
EXCLUSIVES: i never really participated in exclusives before this blog but since the idea is to keep things small and manageable, here they are.
@ghoulsplay - claire redfield, eli moskowitz, miguel diaz, tommy oliver, trini gomez, courtney lane, ben hanscom, lucy gray baird
@soulcost - lae'zel, steph gingrich, ada wong, jill valentine, kim possible
@castlesfallen - lip gallagher, haley james scott
#muse list.#pinned post.#basically: if you have any questions just ask!#for murphy i have an extensive list of aus i can throw him into and can easily throw him into more#for everyone else we're goin on vibes baybee
0 notes
Text
happy Valentine's day from the most romantic songs on my playlist rn
- batty for you by destrukto disk
- kiss me until my lips fall off by Lebanon Hanover
- yandere (acoustic) by Jazmin bean
- Charlie by mallrat
- CDbaby remix by Chloe moriondo
- hostage by Billie eilish
- 70s Street munchies by Amyl and the sniffers
- zombie graveyard party by be your own pet
- 14 by gun disease
- bite my hip by the Bauhaus
- vivica by jack off Jill
- bridezilla by mommy long legs
and any others I missed
1 note
·
View note
Text
I posted 34 times in 2022
That's 34 more posts than 2021!
7 posts created (21%)
27 posts reblogged (79%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@dr-albxrt-wxskxr-arch
@alphateamsfinest
@wxtchywxckedways
@memesomething
@soulmemes
I tagged 21 of my posts in 2022
Only 38% of my posts had no tags
#meme - 14 posts
#self. - 5 posts
#chris - 1 post
#jill - 1 post
#sorry repeat gif - 1 post
#smut - 1 post
#her. - 1 post
#6’8 - 1 post
Longest Tag: 16 characters
#sorry repeat gif
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
#
- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone
kill jill, jilly bean, idiot sandwich #1, jill ‘im too good for this team’ valentine
- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone (but with your fc but I like the sass and food)
- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone
FMRN by Lilyisthayou (he lost a bet and had to make it that), Her Eyes by Fame on Fire (he loves metal core and the start fo the song is a good ringtone)
- my muse’s last text to your muse
Pizza and Beer or Takeout and Makeout?
1 note - Posted December 11, 2022
#4
“ shit, i think i pulled my stitches. ”
“Really?” the man sighed, shaking his head as he came back into the room. A fresh cup of tea and left over pizza sat warmed on a plate. It wasn’t much but, none of the restaurants stayed open late enough to order; to his own shame, Wesker’s place was a bachelor pad. “You wrestling with Chris again?” he teased, setting both down on the table beside her. Kneeling at her side his hand moved carefully to the bandage, eyes scanning for red.
“Looks like the wounds weeping a bit, go ahead and start unwrapping,” the man should have suggested calling a doctor. Too used to being in the shit without help, Wesker figured they could at least wrap it tighter and wait until the morning.
“Still can’t believe you did that,” in reference to the event leading them to that exact moment, “I had it handled.”
1 note - Posted December 7, 2022
#3
“Theeeere you are. Hi. Welcome back.”
“What happened?” his chest screamed as he tried to sit up, “where are we?” Wesker knew the soreness, whatever he had been hit with didn’t pierce.
“Did I get shot?” he had taken two in the chest years prior, it was a feeling one never forgot. His head rested again as he tested his hands, fingers moved with ease so there hadn’t been too much damage. Looking back up at Carlos he frowned a little, “You alright?” The man looked uninjured from what he could tell.
“Help me up,” he offered the man his hand as he rolled onto his feet. Slowly rising he let out a small grunt of pain, his free hand moved to run the spot over his Kevlar vest.
2 notes - Posted December 7, 2022
#2
[ STEADY ]
Things had gone from bad to worse. Alpha team had been leant to a sister agency, all meant to help contain a bio breach. With minimal information and limited support the team had been overwhelmed. It was a miracle they were all still alive.
Finally somewhere safe Wesker could see spots in his vision, his head throbbed as he tried to push himself off the chair. “I got it,” he offered quietly. Chris had stepped out to get the team some waters, leaving Wesker and Jill alone. His arms and legs shook as he stood up; whatever they had been hit with had done a number on his system. After forcing his gas mask onto Jill, Wesker had take a few breaths of whatever it was. His lungs burned with every breath; his body felt like it was ready to shut down.
He hadnt registered he was falling forward until Jill’s hands were on his chest. “Shit-“ the man slumped forward his head resting just over hers. Trying to right himself the man saw the room starting to spin, “Chair-“ his hand reached back to find the chair. “Fuck-“ he couldn’t find it as his knees shook threatening to give out.
2 notes - Posted December 7, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
@alphateamsfinest
Jill Valentine, bomb expert and well-respected member of Delta team. Her resume was impressive, to say the least. It was her soon to be former captain’s praises though that made him want to meet the woman himself. So, he arranged the meeting. Flying into the town, the team was stationed at Wesker had requested every stay under the table until the offer was made. Cloak and dagger seemed a little over the top, but he wanted a select few for STARS. They didn’t need folks to be flooding in; for now, the team was still just a pet project. No guarantee it would get on its feet.
Waiting int the diner, he had told the captain which table he’d be at; the pair were soon entering and Wesker stood to greet them. The man towered over them both, a trait that he used to his advantages in interrogations.
“Jill Valentine,” he offered a hand to the woman with a smile, “Albert Wesker, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Sitting down and allowing them to join, he offered, “I wasn’t sure if Captain Price told you what would be happening today. I asked him to keep this meeting between us for now until we spoke.” Eyes scanned the menu though he knew he’d only have a coffee, he didn’t usually eat after a fight and wanted to get to his hotel to sleep. Soon he’d be on a flight to meet a young man by the name Chris, young and rough around the edges, but he had potential. Jill was the total package.
“I’ve heard a lot about your work on Delta, I’m impressed,” he finally looked up at her again, eyes lingering a moment on her face longer than they should have. “Your skills are life or death for bomb techs,” he didn’t feel to need to hide how much he knew.
6 notes - Posted December 4, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
0 notes
Photo
Awkward
#resident evil#jill valentine#claire redfield#jill x claire#clairentine#claire x jill#red valentine#Jilly bean and Claire bear#chris redfield#What happen to them?
115 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I drew two lesbibabes.
16 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
alagoastopteam-blog
Sem título
vozdushnyimirsakhalin-blog
Без названия
coolbtsnaturemug
#Kpop
shanekim03
Shane Kim
brad-lee
Brad Lee