#jill valentine imagine
Text
ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART SIX !
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 12.3k.
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, gender neutral reader, smut (not involving reader), murder, death, violence/gore, suic1dal tendencies, suic1de attempt, alcoholism, weaponry, panic attacks, ptsd, hallucinations, & sleep paralysis.
leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .
clingy, heroic, & territorial
──── Leon Kennedy hates sunlight in his eyes. Yet still, he finds himself basking in the warm rays.
When the sun hits the window just right, ensnaring the room in its golden hues, he bathes in its light the same way he'd lay in a hot bath. The lulling warmth melts his muscles and eases his body. After he falls asleep in the office after another unsuccessful investigation, your sunset is there for him. When he passes out after a drunken night at the bar, your sunrise is there for him. You're looking down at him always, embracing him in splotches of sunlight.
For a while, Leon thought he knew what it meant to be alive. To touch the hands of guttural pain; to feel the jagged juts of his past nestle against him. But, after that horrid night six years ago, after the exposure to sunshine he did not know existed, he truly touched the scorching surface of rock bottom.
And it is killing him. All because of a singular person.
Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.
Leon remembers your exuberant eyes, your adorable mannerisms, the glimmer of your smile; he will never forget how you sparked the beginning of his life in Raccoon City.
He remembers the orange lights had swayed in his vision. How everything was stuck in a blistering sea of vertigo. Listening to the fire crackle and creatures groan, Leon coughs from the tickle caught in his throat. There is a weight pressed to his chest, something akin to a cushion. White. Artificial fabrics, a plastic touch. An airbag, maybe?
September 28th of 1998. The memories all return to him like a violent supercut. The yell of his name, the squeal of the brakes, the collision afterward. His precious Jeep Wrangler had now been flipped upside down and he was now caught in the savagery of the aftermath. The blood rushing to his head has the world swirling around him, lulling him into another state of unconsciousness. Leon touches the passenger seat with his red hands, terror ensnaring him upon realizing the seat was empty.
Something blurry in his trail of vision grips his attention. Through the shattered window, a figure stumbles through the brume of the flickering streetlights. Blue glares frame the dirt-stained "R.P.D" sign and the figure hastens towards its doors.
A whimper of your name is stuck on his tongue, as words get trapped in his congested throat. Don't leave me. In Leon's efforts to escape, his foot gets caught on the gear shift. He pulls with all his might, despite the twists and strains his ankle endures. Y/N, please don't. Shards of glass fall from his hair as he wrestles his way out. A few pieces manage to leave shallow nicks against his flesh. Come back to me.
Leon then plummets to the wet pavement, finally free of his demolished car. Frivolous debris and fresh corpses litter his path. His newly-purchased white sneakers (which he bought solely to show off to you) are splattered in the disgusting matter. Stumbling, he is able to persevere through all of this and he quickly trudges through the wreckage.
Leon barrels through the doors of the R.P.D. and surges through the police department. Bullets pierce through the skulls of pedestrians and coworkers roaming the building. Blood paints his body like rainfall. All while he is searching for the face that will end the torment reigning havoc through his mind.
The holding cells are inspected thoroughly while Leon's disposition is one of acute desperation. The adjacent areas are consumed with infected prisoners, all of which he promptly executes. Much to his dismay, however, the rookie does not find you sitting at a bench or clinging to the rusted bars. It is all empty, leading him to become more frantic in his search for you.
Something navy blue then captures his attention. Left on the floor of a cell is a name tag. Something small and wet with blood.
Leon takes the object into his fingers. His heart wrenches when he reads the name stamped on the plastic. The familiar "Mizoil Gas Station" is printed above "Y/N L/N".
A gasp fills the empty silence. Y/N... Where did you go? Why did you leave me?
"Hey.”
He jerks around to the intruding voice.
"Who is that?"
"Stay sharp."
Behind him is a rotting face with dead, paper-white eyes staring right through him. The zombie towers over him, growling for a bite. Leon yanks Matilda from his holster. The action is swift. Adept. Exactly the way he was trained. The echo of a gunshot permeates through the large expanse and fuses with the squelching sounds of brain matter oozing from the zombies' open skull. The corpse falls to the grimy floors with a thud and once more, silence returns.
The click of stiletto heels treads closer to Leon. On the threshold of the prison cell, a woman walks into his train of vision.
Ada Wong.
Finally, a human! Leon thinks to himself. He is quick to take advantage of the company of a normal, uninfected person. The pestering questions he has all tumble out out his mouth like an avalanche of blabbering nonsense.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone!"
Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.
"My name is Leon Kennedy."
He takes a breath before continuing.
"The person I'm looking for- they, um- they're about... this tall." He holds his flat hand up to demonstrate your height. "Their eyes are Y/E/C. Well, maybe not like an exact shade of Y/E/C. It's more like a softer, prettier-"
She scoffs, cutting him off from his incessant rambling. Turning her heel, Ada begins to walk away from the pathetic mess she stumbled upon.
"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”
The woman halts.
“Y/N L/N! Please, you have to help me find them!"
Body tense, her eyes peer at him through the dark barrier of her sunglasses. Her arms weaken, once sternly folded over her beige trench coat.
"They're my partner... Please..."
Ada's lips part. From them, a sharp inhale.
Leon begs her with desperate worry, encompassed in a vehement frame of mind. His plead is spoken with such clarity, Ada can only assume it as truth. And the prospect of you belonging to someone else cuts like a dull knife. It is gross, it is nauseating. Unnatural. Like worms slithering around in her stomach, trying to escape the heart-shattering effect this information has on her.
Then, there is the anger. The betrayal is like a song too loud, the resentment like sheer alcohol on her tongue. Everything manifests into a spirit so overwhelming that Ada cannot find air to breathe. This blanket of rage stirs with her sorrow like two conflicting chemicals. The reaction sparks something iniquitous.
So, in turn, she does what she does best.
Lie.
"Y/N is dead."
A silence settles in the room.
Leon stares. That is all he does.
He stares at Ada and tries to scrutinize her to find some other truth. Anything other than this.
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
Ada speaks with defective emotion. The words land mercilessly and hit with ruthless force.
A harsh ringing noise permeates around Leon. He covers his ears, blunt nails digging into his scalp. He shakes his head no, as though he merely disagrees with fact. It's not true. It can't be! Losing grasp on the only good thing in his life is something he will not accept. He refuses to.
You are his sun. What is existence without its warmth? What will happen to Earth without its necessity?
How can he possibly survive without you?
Ada rolls her eyes at the dramatic scene now playing out at her hand. She ignores her own hypocrisy, of course. If she had learned of your demise, only God knows what blood-curdling reaction she would have. When it comes to Leon, however, every blink of his eye and twitch of his muscle has her riddled with irritation. Does he not know how lucky he is? Ada would endure any pain if she knew she had the comfort of calling you her lover. It is a dream she would kill to make reality.
Leon soon collapses to the floor. A shot of pain courses through his knees from landing harshly on the cement. His hand clutches over his heart, absolutely gutted by the torment forced upon the organ.
Ada then leaves this lie where she puts it down. She struts out of the prison cell, thus continuing her search for wherever in Raccoon City you may be.
You do not need a boyfriend. Especially one as pathetic as Leon Kennedy.
The man in question has been rendered into a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Questions still fill the silent air. How, when, why? Why did it have to be you? The one person on this disgusting planet who did not deserve it. Why couldn't you have just stayed with him and let him devote his life to protecting the precious gem of your life? Why? Why? Why?
Leon has already lost so much, you were the very last thing keeping him afloat. You are his life preserver in the middle of the ocean. He has now succumbed to the thrashing waves, as he was always destined to be swallowed by the sea. Saltwater permeates his lungs and his limp body sways with the lulling current. As though this is what his life was always meant to be: crawling after happiness just to have it yanked away when he gets too close. In the end, his sugar-sweet delusions will always sink down to the ocean floor.
Tears do not escape Leon, no matter the weight of the pain. He does not care for anything but you. Now that you have left him, nothing else matters. Therefore, no emotion can be elicited from him anymore. He has been touched so violently by this intensity, it eradicated any surviving nerves.
His handgun had been left on the ground, a few feet away from him. Assumably falling from his grasp after his knees gave out. He takes the weapon and it shivers in his trembling grasp. It's blurry in his gaze, as his entire vision is overwhelmed with stupor. Should he? God knows he wants to. What is there left to experience in life without you there with him?
As he guides the barrel of his gun to his temple, the static ringing in his ears accelerates in volume. Somehow, though, Leon does not feel fear. He does not feel anything. No dread, no despair — just sheer, hollow nothingness. It infuses his entire body like a roaming virus, ensuring it does not leave any traceable fragments of emotion.
A quivering finger hovers over the trigger. One pull and he will be free.
Leon presses his finger down.
Click.
Nothing.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing happens.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
"FUCK!"
Leon chucks the gun to the ground. His yell comes out guttural, a touch away from being a growl.
The clatter of Matilda's impact is not enough to appease him, as this swamped nothingness is more than he can endure. In a fit of defeat, Leon balls his fists and punches the cement floor. Agony surges through his entire hand and blood smudges his knuckles. The sound of his bones cracking still does not satisfy him in the slightest. Nothing can aid him now. Absolutely nothing.
With heavy legs, Leon stands to his feet. He holds his broken fist close to his chest and limps out of the empty prison cell. As he meanders through the station, he finds a set of car keys to a police cruiser on the corpse of his former co-worker. Despite claiming the title of "hero" when he first earned his badge, he does not intend to help anyone tonight. He couldn't save the only thing he ever loved, what kind of hero fails to do that?
The screaming of pedestrians and desperate pleas for help fall on deaf ears. The vehicle's engine rumbles and Leon's dead eyes stare at the road ahead. He leaves Raccoon City forever in his dust.
Six years have passed since the night you were taken from him. Leon wants to die, that much is for certain. The only thing preventing him from giving in is the fact that people need him. They all fail to see that he needs you, as he always will. Besides, he’s got some last few words he wishes to tell Umbrella before he bids this life farewell.
This is his life now. And in a morbid way, he thinks it is romantic. He read somewhere that if a swan dies, their surviving mate will fly into the sky and let themselves plummet to their death. Is that you and him? Should he put the final puzzle piece in your happily-ever-after and end it all? When the sun shines through the window and he wakes up without you again, however, Leon cannot romanticize the empty shell he is trapped within. He is desperate to know why you couldn't have taken his body with you on your way to heaven. Why death couldn’t have brought him eternal peace the very second you passed.
These several years have been spent drowning in alcohol. Leon has no preference for whatever booze he consumes, either. Anything that will make him forget it all will do the trick. At the bar with concerned bartenders or in his almost-empty liquor cabinet at home — he’ll take whatever he can get his hands on.
All his nights are now spent beneath the golden lights of the local bar. Dawn is spent crying on the kitchen floor with a queasy stomach. His days are all the same, too. Saving the lives of helpless citizens, he never forgets how the glimmer of gratitude in their eyes should have been yours.
This night in particular was no different. Leon has nearly drunk the entire bar's alcohol supply in hours. He imbibes a glass of whiskey and cringes at the cheap taste. Too sweet. Poorly made. He does not mind this, however, as anything that can ease the pain is satisfactory enough. And just like any other night, Leon is thinking of you. He watches the ice cubes dance in the cup, arms lazily resting on the sticky countertop. If only things were different, then he wouldn't have to be in this shit-hole right now. He could spend all his nights with you, instead. God, he misses you.
"You look lonely."
Leon didn't have to look up from his glass to know what was happening. At a place like this, it was inevitable.
He never took to heart whenever his coworkers teased him with names such as "pretty boy" or "Leonardo DiCaprio." It seemed to be a "chick magnet," as they so called it. So, when another stranger approaches him with that familiar glint in their eye, he knows what they want from him.
"I can fix that."
Leon looks to where the woman is sitting beside him. Like he does with every courting, he searches her for any remnants of you. If he were honest with himself, these people served as a good distraction. Enough bottles and he can delude his fuzzy brain into believing it was you standing beside him instead of another stranger.
The sight is blurred from his intoxicated state, but his judgment is clear as day. Her face shape and height contrast from yours. She is an inch or two shorter. Her smirk is sensual, not as toothy and adorable as your vivacious smile. Her body is entirely different, as well. Too bony, with wonky proportions that were nothing like you. The only similarity was her eye color. Your exuberant shimmer was missing, but the collection of hues shared puny similarities.
Eh. Good enough.
"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"
The blaring sounds of heavy rock playing outside the motel room do not ease the headache Leon has, nor does the vociferous calamity of this woman. She doesn't sound anything like you. Too submissive, too goddamn insufferable. In his head, he can only imagine the dulcet sounds he could pull from your pretty lips. This woman was ruining that heavenly fantasy.
"I told you to be fucking quiet."
He uses his strength and pins her harder against the squeaking mattress. Insufferably irritating moans are muffled upon shoving that loud mouth into the pillows. Leon squeezes his eyes shut and puts all attention to the image he has painted in his mind.
You'd be different, much different. He can only imagine you beneath him like this. Harsh demands formed from your dulcet voice, commanding his every move and action. Telling your puppy dog to make you feel good with the promise of a reward — the thought alone never fails to send a shiver through his body. Leon is sure your golden voice praising him is all he needs to die happy.
"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"
The reverie shatters as quickly as it was formed. His calloused hands find the woman's hair and he forces her further into the pillows. She is not opposed to being treated roughly in the sheets, discernible in the way her moans and mindless babbles increase in volume.
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
Leon would be different, too. Much softer than this. He would handle every inch of your skin like he's unmasking an archeological masterpiece. God, he couldn't treat you roughly even if he wanted to. Ruin every orgasm of his, leave his body littered with bruises and scratches. He would be a slave to your every whim, as pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other. And in return, Leon would still touch your body with the same glass-like softness he is only ever capable of treating you with.
He buries his face into the stranger's shoulder and inhales the scent of their perfume. It is nauseating and nothing like you. Artificially sweet and too strong. Leon desperately fills the plot holes in his fantasy and imagines you dolling yourself up for him. Maybe after a tireless day at work, he would arrive home to you greeting him with a surprise. Where you got all dressed up for his eyes only and allowed him to indulge in your body again and again and again and again.
He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you call him your puppy, your husband, your good boy.
The thought sends him over the edge.
It is not a euphoric unfolding. It is sharp. Gross and weak. It is merely something to help him get by, even just barely. At least tonight Leon was able to finish inside a warm body instead of the plastic toy he keeps in his bedside drawer.
He doesn't even remember the name of this stranger. However, that doesn't matter when loud whines of your name jump out of his throat instead. The word tumbles from his mouth as though if he spoke it enough, you would materialize into this bed with him.
The unsatisfied woman does not overlook this. Another person's name shamelessly moaned by the man she thought she would have some late-night fun with, is he serious? She rolls her eyes and escapes from his sweaty hold. As she dresses herself, rehearsing how she'll tell this horror story to her friends, Leon stays on the bed. He does not try to stop her from leaving.
The afterglow is feeble, but he merely pretends it is as strong as he knows it would be with you. He wants to ensnare his body around yours and reaffirm just how deeply he loves you. He just wants to be with you again, no matter what the circumstances are. In the sheets after Earth-shattering sex with the love of his life or back in the grimy streets of Raccoon City, he will take anything if it means looking into your eyes again.
The door closes with a slam. Leon is now alone. But, then again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like, after all.
2,327 days and counting since he lost you.
If you asked him all that time ago where he thought he'd be right now, he would answer with the hope and happiness he only had then. He'd sit cozy in the little cabin in the woods you and he would occupy, he was sure of it. Summers would be spent in the sunlit lakes and Winters would be spent huddling for warmth by the fireplace. Years would pass like this. All laughter and kisses, snuggles, and healing hearts.
These fantasies haunt him like a horror-flick ghost floating around an attic, as it is what his life could have been had he not failed to protect you. He could have you in his arms this very second, but because of his God-awful driving skills, your body was left behind in the rubble of Umbrella's mistakes. It is what he devoted his entire career to now: tearing down that damned corporation. It is why he is in this motel room, to begin with, where he rots in these musty sheets and sleeps with people he can't remember the names of.
Images of you and him sharing smiles flicker through his brain and lull him. Your eyes are the last thing Leon sees before he falls asleep.
It is a light slumber. He does not dream, he is merely unconscious. When he wakes an hour later, it is like he has not slept at all. As if the short period of time passed in a sheer blink. This is what his sleeping schedule normally looks like nowadays, complemented by the heavy, storm-grey bags beneath his eyes.
The sheet draped over his waist leaves him cold. The Winter weather creeps into the room and engulfs his naked skin in goosebumps. When Leon tries to grasp more of the cheap blankets to drape himself in, he is at a loss when he finds himself unable to move. Almost as though a weight had forced him back onto the bed. He can't move even a muscle; he is wholly and utterly paralyzed.
There's a soft footstep that permeates. Leon's eyes dart around the room, but there is nothing to perceive in the dark emptiness. When he tries to open his mouth and question if that woman has returned, his jaw remains locked shut.
Another footstep. He searches for anything to defend himself from whatever monster lurks in the shadows.
Then, another step. There is no doubting someone is in this room with him. He tries to regain mobility of his body, scrambling to use his fists or to find his gun.
"Leon?"
Something blooms within him. A vibrant, healthy flower persevering through the fiery ashes.
"It's me..."
Home. That is the only word Leon could use to explain your voice. Like the swirling scent of oven-fresh cookies made by his grandmother. Like the imagination in his mother's voice when she read him a bedtime story. Like the scent of freshly mowed grass when he plays outside after school. The cadence and inflection of your words bring a sense of comfort like no other. Honey-sweet in the purest form.
Through the dust-ridden curtains, the hues of streetlight seep into one corner of the room. You step into the light, midnight shadows framing your features. You're dressed in the exact clothing he last saw you wearing, in the absence of all that blood and grime from that night. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes bore into him as you step closer. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, a smile grows on your lips and robs him of all coherent function.
Leon can't but wonder if this was it, if he had died on this disgusting motel bed and you were finally taking him back into your arms. He doesn't even mind losing all sense of mobility, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Neither his face nor his body can physically react to the rush of emotion that comes with your presence, but it is more than perceptible in his eyes. Sky-gray irises drowned in oceans of fervor. Baby blues overwhelmed with shimmering, flamboyant love.
"If only you had just heard me out, then I could actually be with you right now." Your words, as heavenly as they sound, confuse Leon.
You tuck some fallen wisps of blonde hair away from his face and he swears it is real. His heart hammers like a snare drum. This is real, it must be real, it has to be.
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me. Then neither of us would be in this mess, would we?"
Something shifts in your gaze. That smile he loves so much is torn away and replaced with a scowl. There is now a perceptible rage in your expression, drowned in hollow emotion that clenches his heart.
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!? Like everything we have means jack shit to you!"
No, no, no, no, no! It's not like that! She means nothing, she is nothing! He only used her as a placeholder for you! There isn't a single redeeming feature about her that compares to you. Jesus Christ, how could he want anyone else when you exist?
Leon tries to respond, he really does. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how badly he wishes he could go back six years and change it all. How many hours he has spent with his hands clasped in prayer, apologizing relentlessly to the sky and hoping you'll hear him from down here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.
You stand from the bed, hands balled into fists at your side. "You're not gonna say anything? Just lay there and look at me like I'm nothing but-!"
A figure then barrels at you from the shadows. Your infuriated rant was cut short with a gut-wrenching shout when you are knocked to the ground. Saturated flesh peeking from dead skin and groans of hunger plunging from their slack mouth — a zombie had leaped from the darkness and sunk its teeth into your shoulder. Blood spouts from your wound and cascades down your body. You plead for Leon to help you, that he not leave you behind like he did all those years ago. And so desperately, Leon tries to.
A scream is locked behind his closed mouth as he tries to wrestle his way back to you. It pries and fights to escape, as though the force of his shout would be enough to convince this brainless creature to leave you be. Eyes blown wide with dizzying panic, all he can do is watch. His toned chest, sheen with sweat, rises and falls with rapid movements. Muffled whimpers of horror escape from the subtle crease of his mouth.
With every beating second your life fades away, the more Leon latches to any vigor he can grasp. His efforts to save you are overwhelmed in sheer desperation. He cannot let this happen all over again; he cannot lose you a second time. It would kill him, he is sure of it.
Something twitches in his finger. Then his foot. And for a moment, hope flickers in his mind. He can save you and atone for what he failed to do before. When the squelching sounds of flesh torn asunder fill the silence, that hope wears thin.
Like a bag of sand, Leon is able to drag his limp body across the mattress. His jaw weakens, to where sounds of despair are granted the ability to escape in roaring fervency. Off the side of the bed with the speed of a slug, he hits the ground with a harsh thud. Hauling himself onto his stomach, a verbiage of your name leaves his mouth.
He begins to crawl helplessly to where you are, only to stop in his efforts when he finds nothing. The lights from outside still seep into the room and the racket sounds of rock music still play from a room over. But, you have vanished. Leon stares at where you had fallen, scrutinizing every detail for any resemblance of you.
Misery strikes like a gunshot through his chest. Why did he fail again? Why can't he be enough, even for just once?
Why do you always leave him in the end?
He is alone again. Sat by himself on top of the soiled motel carpet and used condom he had frivolously thrown across the room. But, once again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like. And now, it is what the rest of his life will likely be encompassed in — empty solitude and hopeless dreams of you.
Leon does not sleep for the rest of the night. He is far too restless from the stressful events, terrified of watching that scene play out all over again. The digital clock on the bedside table provided minimum light, where the vibrant red numbers tick away. All he does is lie in this mess, watching the hours drift away.
A dark blue soon ensnares the sky. Birds squawk and sing. Dawn has finally arrived and so does the sun, bathing the room in its glowing orange and pink hues.
Your sunrise welcomes him, once again. The warmth and its serenity fails to placate him, though. Sitting here, he realizes how much of a fool he was to believe it was you in some form. The very second you left, you took everything warm and bright with you. You left him cold and empty and lifeless. You nestled the sun behind your resting eyes when your life faded away.
Cuddling up with you in that imaginary cabin is the only thing that can vitalize him. Two cups of steaming tea, watching the wind sway through the trees from the porch. Oh, the things Leon would take to bring this fantasy to life. To bring you back into the warmth of his arms is all he could ever need, where you will be safe and forever alive.
6:02 AM on the clock, Leon is expected at work in the following hour. Without a morsel of energy left in his feeble body, the thought of standing on this grimy floor overwhelms him with disdain.
Despite how badly he wishes to beat all scientists involved with Umbrella to a bloody pulp, he must take a course of action that abides by legal standards. To do this, Leon must work behind the scenes, ensuring every nail and screw is fastened with flawless finesse. This slow journey toward his goal of tearing Umbrella to shreds has taken a toll on him. No punching bag to take his rage out and his anger nestles itself into his body. Once Umbrella is six feet under, only then will he grant himself permission to join you and let Earth reclaim his body.
Today, Leon is now a part of the Torrents: a Capture-Force team designated to take down Umbrella's rumored return and prosecute those working for them. He has been assigned to replace someone on the team upon their suspension for "severe mental issues,” or whatever that entails. Alcohol heavy on his breath and bags beneath his eyes, Leon arrives at work for the day. He walks through the doors of a sanctuary Umbrella was confirmed to have been located at but has since fled from.
"You're late."
Leon doesn't care to look at the voice, as he already acknowledged and dismissed the vibrant "7:39 AM" on his wristwatch. They should be grateful he was even here in the first place and not rotting in bed.
"Not exactly rooting for employee of the month. Do I look the type?"
Leon's comment causes him to let out a quick huff of laughter. This new guy is much more amusing than his previous coworker, after all.
"Tyrell. Call me 'T."
He takes his hand out for Leon to shake, which he ignores. Tyrell stuffs his hand back into his pocket upon his refusal to reciprocate. An awkward silence settles between them.
"Leon. But, you knew that already."
The blonde then walks away from his new acquaintance. He can't recall the last time he had one, no less a genuine friend. The only person he put honest effort into discerning was you. Everyone else was just painfully bleak background noise stood behind your radiant aura. There is no one in the universe he wishes to befriend anymore, not when you're gone.
Leon treads through the building in search of the office organized by the team. Working behind a desk provides him his wanted rest, but taking part in the action scene provides an acute distraction. With his hands covered in blood and his fingers reeking of gunpowder, it is the most peace he can feel. Punch after punch, shots upon shots — the thought of you is eased little by little. The memory of you still lives on, but it is ephemeral moments like this where Leon can forget it all.
Several workers walk through the halls with heavy boxes marked "EVIDENCE". Others photograph imperative scenery around them, while some are busy scribbling on their notepads. Leon passes all of them without a second thought. However, two of his coworkers in particular capture his attention.
They both guide a surviving patient through the hallway. A young man holding a file in his hands and a perceptible fear in his eyes. The man then swiftly, albeit pathetically, throws himself at Leon and the file is shoved against his chest upon impact. A few of the files' contents slip from the folder and splat against the tiled floors. Hands curled around the sheepskin hems of his jacket, the man begs Leon for his help.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone."
Leon's stare is harsh. Cold and empty. Any living creature would surely keel over beneath that terrifyingly vacant gaze. The man, riddled with desperation, perseveres through this fear and continues to plead.
"They're my best friend... Please..."
The guards quickly shuffle over to the scene. Their hands grip the man's shoulders, but do not apply any further pressure. They look to Leon, waiting for the demand of their superior.
And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.
"Get him out of my sight."
They do as told, nearly shoving the man to the ground in their efforts to escort him out of the building. The hopeless gleam in his eyes should have sparked some form of guilt within Leon. Looking into that man's eyes, however, he feels nothing. Leon instead shifts his gaze to the ground. There, right beneath his boot, the sight of something causes his heart to quicken. Swiftly taking it into his gloved hands, his breath is then yanked from his chest.
In the polaroid is no other than you.
Snow engulfs the ground and you’re dressed in a large coat that practically swallows you whole. Pine trees blanketed in the white matter surround you. With chunky mittens on, you form a heart with your hands. Snowflakes descend from the sky, a few landing on your shoulders and knitted hat. Behind you, a stack of plastic sleds. You're captured with that smile of perfection on your face, the very smile that could rival the sun.
How...?
How did he have this? Leon could've sworn he had every picture of you...
He crosses the hallway in several large strides and finds him in mere seconds. With every sliver of strength in his body, Leon tears the man from the grasp of the guards and shoves him against the wall.
"Where did you get this!?" His voice has been reduced to a gruff timbre. A horrifying whisper.
Gesturing at the Polaroid, the man looks at him in bewilderment.
"W-What are you talking about-?"
Leon's forearm pushes against the base of his throat, pressing harder and arousing choked gasps from his throat.
"I won't ask you again..."
"Me! Me, I-I took it! I took the picture!" The man, wide-eyed and terrified, desperately exclaims the truth. However, his answer seemed to be the exact opposite of what his interrogator wished for.
Calloused hands clasped around his collar, Leon pulls the man back before shoving him back into the wall. A blood-curdling crack, then a grunt pervades the air. The unmistakable scent of iron diffuses from the man's skull, inevitable from the force of the hit. Leon practically snarls through his heavy breaths.
"When!? When'd you take this fucking picture!?"
The man slurs out his answer, now rendered delirious from the strike his head endured.
"Jan... January... La-Last January..."
The world then shatters around Leon.
The tumultuous clamor of everything falling apart before his eyes robs him of any coherent, proper function. These past six years play out like another nightmare. Every sip of alcohol, every aimless nightmare, every mediocre hookup — it all crumbles and joins the rubble of the destruction.
This whole time... This whole time you...
His vision blurs as the revelation settles, swimming through a void of vertigo and devastation. A sharp ringing permeates around him. It complements the sound of his hyperventilating breaths and hammering heartbeat. The firm grasp he once held on the man weakens, to where he scrambles away from Leon and his violent antics.
This whole time you were...
Alive...?
Leon turns his feet and stumbles away. Sweat seeps down his face and then his neck, staining the musk-stained clothes he had not washed in weeks. The sheer luminosity of the white lights, white walls, and white floors do not aid him in his attempts to soothe his sorrows. There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Leon brings his hand up to the painful ache, falling in his efforts to mend his affliction, once again.
"Are you alright, sir?"
The new voice could easily be spoken from miles away. Vanished and impossible to discern. Leon tries to clutch the walls to maintain his stability, but this inevitably fails him, as the shock derived from this epiphany sends his weak body to the unforgiving ground.
"I'm dying..."
He can hardly recognize his own voice. It is now a higher, fearful pitch than he is used to. The other person speaks once more, but he cannot perceive what was said. Their words are merely a quiet boat in a thrashing ocean.
"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
This feeling of realization bubbles in his chest and infiltrates every inch of his form. His chest is overwhelmed with panicked breaths. Up and down, up and down. The stranger then sprints away from Leon. Their shouts for a doctor are distorted, now an echo Leon cannot discern.
Voices from his past speak to him from all directions. As though the very walls surrounding him were taunting him. Mocking every failure of his.
"Leon- LEON-!!"
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!?"
"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him."
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me."
His world has been torn to paper-thin shreds. Then, it all goes dark. Leon is left alone and unconscious in this vast abyss of nothingness.
Tyrell sighs in frustration. He wonders why this team has such a knack for hiring people with "severe mental issues".
A harsh cut to reality is what Leon was next met with. Inside this shoebox-sized hospital room, ragged belts are restrained around his limbs. Doctors rush in and out of the blinding-white room. A myriad of drugs course in his system, intended to ease the rampant panic pumping through his body. The aftermath of his panic attack was fresh, yet still, all Leon could think about was you.
How you, his sunshine, his sweet baby, have been alive all this time.
Leon thrashes and fights against his restraints, as though you were just outside the door, waiting for him to come scoop you in his arms and close the distance between you at once. For the umpteenth time, several nurses race into the room and sedate him. Again, he is forced into another fit of unconsciousness. This routine will go on to repeat numerous times. Knowing you are out there somewhere, alone, makes for a man inconsolable.
Several days pass before Leon is brought to a state of mediocre tranquility. His heart is still rampant, but with fear of more time wasted without taking proper action, he abides by the doctor's demands. He will do anything to get to you, after all. Kneel before God, succumb to the Devil. Face him with the most torturous, humiliating, gut-wrenching fate with the promise of your return and he will simply smile in response. Leon will lay with blood painting his teeth and purple bruises caked into his skin, unhinged with euphoria knowing you are the prize at the end of the tunnel.
Mere picoseconds had passed before he sprung into action. He is swift to return to his work. Fervently, he begins scouring through every detail Umbrella left behind to pinpoint the exact location you reside at.
The most valuable piece of evidence was security camera footage. A prominent clue that made Leon's stomach coil like a snake ensnaring itself around its prey. Outside of the window to your bedroom, the night-vision camera highlights the scene of two intruders. With careful ease, they pull your unconscious body through the room and flee to the adjacent forest with you in their arms.
Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.
Or, as Leon prefers to refer to them, two names that have now been added to his lengthy list of those who will face his wrath.
The team has theorized the two have been working for Umbrella and were assigned to sneakily escort survivors to a new location. Due to this, patients still in this present location are now being sent to a hospital guarded by the Torrents. A place where they will be kept far away from Umbrella's grasp. What the team can't piece together, however, is why the two never came back to take more survivors. They had plentiful opportunities, but you, Y/N L/N, are the only missing patient. Or, as the team has now assigned your code name as, "Baby-Eagle".
Now, Leon is coursing through Spain. Guns strapped in their holster, knives out at the ready, and a reveling rage in his eyes — he counts every second spent away from you. The chilling temperatures gust against his skin like sharp teeth as he practically tears the country asunder. All that matters is finding the face that has been stamped in every dream of his for the past six years.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
He still can't believe it. You are alive.
If Leon grants himself permission to revel in this fact, he will lose what little control he still possesses over himself. God knows how much he needs the slivers that still remain. These feelings, despite all, have kindled strength Leon never recognized. A new spark; a fresh, riveting chapter. Emotions which only you, some sort of sorcerer, are capable of conjuring.
A day has now passed of his relentless search. More and more does fear cradle Leon. Like a warm blanket nestled around his heart, he is horrified by the silence that ventures through the land of Los Iluminados. The mere thought of potentially stumbling across you, lifeless, is enough to evoke a gag from the back of his throat. He cannot handle that. He cannot lose you again.
The dim light of dusk irradiates the loading docks. Every rushed step Leon takes causes the decrepit surface to moan weakly from the weight. He scrutinizes every shipping container, every nook and cranny, every barrel splattered with yellow paint. He becomes increasingly more ridden with desperation as his lasting hope begins to flicker.
Leon turns a corner and finds it: the sight he has been crying every night to see for six years. His mouth speaks before his brain can emulate these soul-crushing sensations.
"Y/N...!?"
You turn your head to the intrusion. Leon is shocked he had not died right there beneath your gaze.
You, his epic, undying love, rest there as though Botticelli painted you as the focal point for 'Birth of Venus'. Sat against some paper sacks like Venus stood on her scallop shell, Leon has never seen a sight quite as perfect as this. Strikingly similar to the pearl Venus resembles, you and her are pure and exquisite as you are brought to life. In a way, it is precisely the events which take place now. Six years wrestling with the burden of your death, only for you to be reborn before his very eyes like the natural, divine God you are. Absolutely, irrevocably perfect in your stance.
Leon stands frozen in place. Staring at this work of art, this utter masterpiece mere yards away from him. He is then taken aback when he feels something wet trickle down his cheeks. What he assumes to be rainfall is actually... tears?
All these years, he has begged the universe to feel his emotions. Or to feel anything, for that matter. It will not bring you back, as he wholly prayed for every night, but it would bring temporary, weak relief. Right now, as though you had some form of superpower, Leon cries. He cries like he has never before. His face twists into an ugly scrunch; he can feel the hot tears and stringy snot seep down his skin. He listens to the gut-wrenching sobs protruding from his chest and holds his hand over his heart, overwhelmed by the intensity the organ is enduring.
Despite the tragic scene, Leon has never been happier. The journey these six years have taken him on has been rough. Irrevocably soul-crushing. Seeing you here, beautiful as you always were, makes everything worth it — utterly, indubitably, and completely.
Then, someone else interrupts.
Ada Wong, a few years older, steps into view. Guarding you from the unwelcome intruder.
The epiphany strikes like a broken heart. It is not betrayal, as he has never trusted Ada. Rather, it is a flood of humiliation. It is absolute shame, unadulterated and pure. How could he have been such a fool?
All this time, Ada had kept you with her. She was the reason he was apart from you; she was the distance that stood between two soulmates. That must be the story, right? She sunk those acrylic claws into your pretty skin and took you away from him, spewing lies about your death and granting Umbrella access to you.
Leon is hit with this epiphany. Hit with what he perceives to be the truth. And it makes him alive with rage.
"It was you, wasn't it...?"
The silence is shattered by his voice. Sewn with fury and nestled deep inside him. His attention, once solely devoted to the love of his life, has now been shifted towards someone else. The one he believes to be responsible for these six years of sheer agony.
"This whole fucking time-!"
In one swift motion, Leon storms over with his fingers clenched to his holster. You stand from the paper sacks and use your body as a shield between Ada and him. Your hand ghosts over Leon's chest to prevent any more unwanted violence. And how unaware you are of the sheer impact your physical touch has on this man.
For a moment, just a fleeting second, Leon is able to overlook the context of the circumstances. Your hand barely makes contact with his body, and from them, he can feel your warmth. The same warmth he has been chasing after; the same warmth he has killed himself over and over to try and retrieve again. It is like a gentle breeze, like tepid bath water. Somehow, your simple touch has pacified his rage as though it were merely child's play to you. Something Leon never thought was feasible.
And just like always, Ada Wong is there to shatter yet another trance.
"Have you really gone so far off the deep end, that you think you could ever amount to being their boyfriend? You truly believe you deserve that title?" Ada laughs. A deep, mocking chuckle. "Are you really that delusional or just naturally blonde?"
You look at Ada and speak for the first time.
"'Boyfriend?'"
An expression of puzzlement is plastered on your face. In return, their heads whip to stare at you, brows furrowed while searching for confirmation.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Leon was never my boyfriend...?"
Their confusion deepens. Ada questions how she could have so foolishly fallen for a fantasy this dumb boy created. Leon questions why you are telling her such lies. You've been dating for almost seven years now, what are you talking about?
"Y/N/N, you don't have to lie to her. You know I won't let her hurt you."
Now, it is your turn to be just as perplexed as they both are. What the fuck is he talking about?
As you're busy scrutinizing him for an explanation, Ada grasps hold of your forearm. Protectively and with softness, she guides you away from the deranged antics of Leon. You lean into her touch in response, as your trust in her is stronger than whatever you feel for him. Especially after the events you and Ada have both endured today.
The man in question, however, does not favor this action. With a swiftness that makes you dizzy, Leon shoves her off of you. Ada falls to the ground from the force of his strength but gracefully springs to her feet. Eyes narrowed and hunting knife in hand, she is ready for battle.
A shriek then falls from your mouth when Leon takes his pistol from its holster but is replaced with shocked silence when Ada kicks the gun from his grasp with her stiletto heel. A stab towards his chest is easily blocked by his meaty forearm, but she still manages to retaliate and surges a punch across his jaw.
Everything happens so fast that it is impossible for you to keep up with the speed of it all. When Ada drops to her feet, encasing her leg around Leon's ankles and sending him to the floor, the loud clamor of his harsh landing takes you back to a few days ago. That bang! is all too familiar. The fire of gunshots out of Jill's gun and the pounding of their fists against flesh — these memories return more harshly than before. Your heart hammers with dread and adrenaline, as though the same inner turmoil has returned yet again.
Once again, who do I choose? The clingy customer at Mizoil, the overly affectionate Superwoman, or myself?
In a state of pure instinct, you do what you predominantly fail at the most. Run.
You don't anticipate how close they may be behind, or if two of your past lovers may be waiting somewhere in the forest. You do not pay these thoughts any attention, for that matter. Focused entirely on the path ahead, you run like you never have before. And if it weren't for the rampant adrenaline coursing through your system, you could say you've become familiar with this forest. It is almost ridiculous how much you have raced past all these trees. Burning lungs, numb legs and all — oh, this is really getting old.
When a sudden force knocks you to your feet, you can feel yourself begin to succumb to lethargy. The relentless sprint and post-laser-induced pains have become too much for your body to endure. Shifting your gaze up, however, you are met with a burst of energy when you see that you have collided with... A person?
Thick gear is strapped to his strong body. Glasses are rested upon the bridge of his nose. This is the first stranger you have seen in months and you do not know how to handle it.
"Oh, shit. It's really you..." His concerned gaze peers at you through his foggy eyewear.
When his fingers ghost over your arm, you flinch away from him. You do not mean to do this, but your body, riddled with turmoil and trauma, reacts before your brain can.
"It's alright, it's alright..." His voice goes softer. "My name is Tyrell. I'm here to help you."
He reaches a cautious hand out to you, as though you were a feeble, terrified animal backed into a corner. Your trust has been worn thin, but whatever fight left in your system has entirely perished. You cannot run anymore; you cannot defend yourself. If this is death, then you will welcome it with open arms. At least you can say you've made it this far.
Lifting a shaky hand up, you let out a gentle gasp when you make physical contact with him. With tender encouragement, Tyrell brings you to your feet. Your tired legs wobble as though you were a baby fawn. Touch that does not inevitably follow with romantic expectations is something foreign to you. This level of kindness has almost become a stranger. Although you would never verbalize it, his touch feels good. It is a comfort; a softness.
Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut. Your body fails you and you collapse into Tyrell's arms. Now, unconsciousness comes as a solace, instead of that familiar trepidation.
And so engrossed in their own feral need for dominance, neither Ada nor Leon had taken notice of your sudden disappearance.
Fresh bruises and blood splatters permeate their bodies. What neither of them realizes about the other is that Leon fights hard, yes, but Ada doesn't fight fair. In a matter of several seconds, she takes the man to the metal floors, once again.
Leather heels pressed to his neck, she points his own pistol to his face.
"Now stay down."
Leon has never been one to back down. Even with death staring directly into his eyes, never once has he begged. However, with you here, alive, he can't bear to be torn from you again.
"Don't... Please, I-I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't take me away from them. Not again..."
Ada is nearly struck dumbfounded by this new side of him. Leon Kennedy, the savior of the president's daughter, one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, is begging for his life? What has she done to this man? Or, above all, what have you done to him?
"Tell me what Umbrella wants with Y/N."
Leon's eyes trail off behind her, seemingly searching for something with frantic movements. Her words had merely gone through one ear and out the other. His silence is only met with frustration.
"I've kept you away from them for this long." Her finger moves to hover over the trigger. "I can easily turn those six years into forever."
"Where did Y/N go?" Leon cuts her off.
Ada nearly snaps her neck with how fast she turns around. Dark eyes scanning the loading docks, her stomach sinks into a sea of dread when she cannot find you. Leon scrambles to his feet and searches alongside his nemesis. Shouts of your name echo into the gloomy skies; their hammering hearts could rival a war drum.
From here, yet another search for you begins. And between them, there is now an unspoken agreement, a newfound alliance. Although their plans rarely come to fruition, they have both found a conclusion together. The two are now wholly focused on the scheme they will achieve or die striving for.
Find you, ensure your safety, and keep you forever in their arms.
A warm, wet rag pressed against your forehead is what you awaken to next. The sudden shift into consciousness causes you to jerk back. Your eyes burst wide, scrutinizing as much of your environment as you can.
You're finally out of that dark forest. Now, you've been rested upon a dilapidated couch. Damp clothes are still stuck to your body, but a thick comforter has been draped upon you. The golden lamplight highlights Tyrell, who sits on the coffee table beside you. With a bowl of water and a rag in his hand, he looks at you with a concerned gleam in his gaze.
You are brought to a mild sense of ease once you comprehend your surroundings. You do not have it within you to trust anyone, but for some reason, this man has brought tranquility you cannot explain. Safety has become a rarity. And you gobble every breadcrumb of it you are able to garner.
"Welcome back." He jokes. His tone is still quiet, as it has been. Careful.
Your throat aches, but you still speak.
"Where am I?" You nearly cringe at how scratchy, how pathetic your voice is.
"My house." This does not calm you. Tyrell notices.
"Hey, no one can get you in here. You are safe, I swear it." His assurances help ease you. He, once again, takes notice of this before continuing.
"I'm sure you have a 'lotta questions for me, huh? I got some for you, too."
"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"
"That's a good question because I don't know either. It's what we're trying to figure out." You furrow your brow, to which he answers to your confusion. "I work with a team called the Torrents. We've been tasked with locating Umbrella and finding any survivors. You were top of our list, 'Baby-Eagle'. Now that you're safe and sound, my teammates can finally get some sleep."
Your smile grows at that nickname. God, when was the last time someone elicited a genuine smile from you?
"We think they may have been testing on some of the patients they have. Do you happen to know anything about that?"
Then, the dread settles with the realization. Jill and Carlos were right this whole time. When you would travel to the ends of the Earth to defend that corporation, it was all for a lie in the end. When Jill and Carlos saved you from them, you paid them back with cruelty and distrust. You left them both in the dust when all they wished to do was save you. Should you have ever left them?
"What about Carlos Oliveira? Jill Valentine? We know they had, um... taken you. If you're willing to talk about them, I'm all ears. 'Got all night, anyways."
There Tyrell goes again. The voice of reason in a bubble of incoherent regret.
"All I-um... All I remember is being at the sanct- er, Umbrella. I drank some tea and then I woke up in Jill and Carlos' house. The next several months, they-uh, they convinced me we were in a... relationship, of some sort. Matt- or Umbrella, found us in the end. They all hurt each other. Real bad. Then, I ended up here." Your words are quiet and broken, but Tyrell manages to pick up every cracked piece of your voice.
"Okay. I see..." He nods. "Do you think Jill and Carlos could have possibly been working for Umbrella?"
This question leaves you taken aback, evident in your dramatic reaction and scrunched face.
"God, no! They despised Umbrella. And I... I defended Umbrella. I thought they helped me, I thought they were the good guys. Every time Jill and Carlos talked shit about them, I would get so-" You interrupt yourself with a coughing fit.
Reaching to his side, Tyrell holds a plastic bottle of water in his large hands. The prospect of drugs floating through the liquid fills you with apprehension. However, with your throat on fire, you eagerly take the bottle and nearly down the entire beverage. Tyrell is one of the good ones, he wouldn't do that to you. You're sure of it.
"It's alright. You don't have to answer any more of my stupid questions, don't worry. All you 'gotta do is rest."
If you were more conscious and without the weight of fresh trauma, you'd make a joke of how he should be a voice actor with such a soothing voice like his. Tyrell's hand finds your shoulder and softly guides you back down to the couch. You ignore the unfamiliar, teenage-love-like bolt of electricity that flows from his touch and you follow his lead. When your head hits the rough fabric of the pillow, you let your heavy eyes fall.
When a door down the hallway bursts open, you cannot tell if you had been asleep for hours or if you had slept at all. Without Tyrell's presence, that all-too-familiar sense of terror returns. When you are barely able to discern his muffled voice through the walls, that terror is slightly diluted with ease. The context is what lies outside this room still has you riddled with fear.
Then, like every cheesy romance film you've ever seen, Leon Kennedy stands on the threshold of the living room entrance.
You are barely allowed a mere second to process his presence before he is barreling for you. His arms, thick and warm, ensnare around your waist. He exhales your name with a breathless tremor, burying his head further into the crevice of your neck. And you melt into him. After everything you've been through, a hug is something you are in dire need of. Leon croons in response, latching onto you tighter. Nestling himself closer against you like a touch-starved, needy puppy-dog.
"Oh, sunlight... I was so worried...!" Although this man has suffered drastic changes in the six years you've been without him, he never seems to have let go of that saccharine tone. Unbeknownst to you, you are the only one capable of summoning that side of Leon.
Although you feel safe in the comfort of Tyrell's home, there is still that stagnant terror fizzing in your stomach. A myriad of questions overwhelm your brain. What has happened? How much time has passed? Where is Ada?
You weaken your hold on him. He does not like that. "Leon. Please, I need to know-"
"Shh..." He interrupts, his hands trailing up your form until they grasp hold of your face. His grip on you, tighter than ever, shifts so he can gaze into your eyes.
"Just let me look at you..."
And that he does. Seconds, then minutes pass. All Leon does is stare directly into you. As though every inch of your irises were being studied to memory by him. As though he was pulling the depths of your soul to the surface of your eye, all for him to gawk and goggle at. It should make you blush and avert your gaze, as the characters normally do in those romance movies. However, you can't bring yourself to. You feel uncomfortable and scrutinized. As though you are restrained to a metal table for strangers and doctors to poke and prod at.
The doorbell then rings and the echo roams through the halls. You are broken from this entrance with Leon, but he is not. God, how could he?
With you here, all the cruelty he has been faced with is now wrapped together in a pretty bow. It was all a present, he now realizes. Everything that has happened led him to the personification of utmost, perpetual happiness. So, you must forgive him if he finds himself staring for too long (not that he even realizes, for that matter). It is impossible to fathom the flood of euphoria rushing through him, hence the dumbfounded, love-struck expression stamped on his face.
"Y/N..." He exhales, honey dripping from his voice.
Although he does not wish to close his eyes, Leon cannot imagine a better time to kiss you. Where the music swells, the candles glimmer, the moon gleams. It is what he has been dreaming about for six years, after all.
Just as Leon leans in, his intentions are cut short. Someone else, once again, interrupts.
Tyrell avoids the death glare from Leon and focuses on you, oblivious to how this action is the root of Leon's fury.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone was just here for you, Y/N."
Carlos and Jill are the first people who enter your mind, here to take you back to the affection-ridden toxicity of their humble abode. When Tyrell holds his hands out and displays what this stranger left, however, you're taken aback.
"She claimed to be your wife...?"
Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.
"And she left this."
What he then gives to you is a plushie, one you remember all too well. It is an opossum, the very same opossum you cuddled with every night during your time at the sanctuary. You've missed him very much whilst you were stuck with Jill and Carlos. Despite your expressed wishes, they never made the effort to retrieve your darling opossum. Why cuddle some measly fabric and cotton when you can cuddle them instead?
You let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it is not those two at the door.
The only striking difference in your fuzzy friend is the blood-red ribbon tied around the opossum's neck. Wedged between the silk and faux fur is a folded piece of paper. Both Tyrell and Leon watch as you open the letter, digesting the contents written on the surface.
In red ink, "Wait for me, petal..." is written with flawless, cursive handwriting. Beneath, a dandelion is drawn. The pappus drifts through the wind and scatters across the paper.
Ada?
Why is she here? Where has she been?
Or, more importantly, how the hell did she find your opossum?
A rough, sharp gasp sprouts from Jill's throat when she awakens.
A flickering light sways above her, the sight blurred in her tired gaze. Her body aches from the awkward position she was unconscious in. Lifting her weakened body up, Jill discerns several bodies, painted in blood and grime, that had been splayed in a frivolous mess. There are miscellaneous documents scattered amongst this violent disarray. Shifting her distorted gaze, she finds two metal doors that had been sprung open. How the hell did she get inside of a truck? What caused it to crash in the first place?
Using the dented walls for support, she stumbles forward. Black dots dance in Jill's vision for a moment, before returning to a hazy blur as she staggers out of the vehicle. With an abrupt grunt, she collapses into the mud. Her hands, stained with dirt, hold her ribs in an attempt to ease the stagnant pain.
For this simple moment, Jill is alone in the world. When the most important thing in her life finally flashes through her mind, the pumping of her heart accelerates.
Y/N... Where did you go?
Memories of her last encounter with you return, as well. It harbors terror like no other. She speaks your name and it sprouts from her throat in a desperate call.
Jill's breath quickens when she discerns a voice. The indubitable sound of someone crying for help echoes through the forest. She turns to the source with hope and worry shimmering in her eyes. Oh, it's her baby, her butterfly! You need her help!
"Y/N...! I'm coming..." Her voice is weak, but her attempts are the entire opposite.
Jill limps through the forest, clambering over wreckage with frantic effort. Averting her blurred gaze to the sound of cries, her face drops when she finds something entirely different.
That doctor you are evidently so infatuated with is stuck beneath a pile of rubble. His face appears as though it had been sunken in. Drowned in a mess of gore.
And sitting on top of the doctor is no other than Carlos Oliveira, whose fists are painted in that same gore.
His clenched fists plunge into Matt's face over and over and over again. His teeth are barred and bloodied like some sort of animal. His voice is several octaves lower than ever before, all guttural growls and grunts like some sort of rabid creature. It is something Jill has never seen before. Not in Raccoon City, not when they took you from the sanctuary, not even when she took you out for a ride on her motorcycle. He is now a monster in its absolute form.
However, Carlos is not something she is concerned with at the moment. She hurls herself over to the two and shoves Carlos off of Matt. He falls to the ground with a loud thump and a harsh curse. Jill ignores his dramatic reaction, before climbing atop of Matt and ensnaring her hands around his red-stained neck. Jill then proceeds to interrogate him of your whereabouts.
"What did you do to them? Where the fuck did you take them!?" Jill does not recognize herself, either. Her voice has morphed into a low, violent tone, an inflection she never knew she was capable of producing.
Matt does not respond to her pressuring questions. He chokes and gurgles on chunks of blood, teeth, and spit. His eyes, now puffy and swollen from the relentless blows they have endured, gape at her in confused terror. However, not that Matt could even be given the chance to respond. Jill glances at the sudden movement in her peripheral and is met with Carlos' fist striking her cheek. The force of the punch sends her to the dirt.
"This is all your fucking fault, Jill!" Her ears almost ring from the sheer volume of his shout.
Once again, it is a side of Carlos she has never seen before. She can take a punch, that's for damn sure. God knows she's handled worse. But fuck, is he out for blood right now.
"If you had never taken Y/N outside, they never would've wanted to leave in the fucking first place!" The tremble in the back of Carlos' throat jeopardizes his intimidation factor. Of course, he is crying, Jill sighs to herself.
Her lanky fingers press into the damp ground to stabilize herself. Before she can bring herself back to her feet, however, something catches her eye. A single document among the millions. She takes the closest one into her grasp and reads through the classified contents. With that damned Umbrella logo in the corner, Jill is fully aware of what evil, corrupt plans await her in the following passage.
As Carlos sobs like a child behind her, whimpers of "my baby" and "come back to me" filling the silent air, she scours through the information printed on the page. Three names are stamped in bold: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, and Y/N L/N. More survivors collected from Raccoon City, they claim. There are reports of your physicality and state of being, accompanied by their predictions on how you'll react to their new testing. "Las Plagas" is what they refer to it as.
At the very bottom of the document, most imperatively, is a series of coordinates to their new location.
With this newfound, fruitful information, Jill trudges over to Carlos for additional aid. When she finds him practically tucked into a ball, sobbing his lungs out, she cannot restrain herself from rolling her eyes.
"Get up. Get up, pussy, come on-!" When she tugs on his arm, he pushes her harshly away from him.
"You don't understand!” Brown eyes, overwhelmed with tears, glare at her in accusation. “I can't live without them..."
Jill is swift to counter back. "Neither can-fucking-I! And we will never see 'em again unless you man-up and fuckin’ listen to me!"
This grabs his attention.
"So, are you just gonna sit there and fuckin' whine about it or are you gonna help me?"
With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.
"Good. Now get your shit together and find me a goddamn map."
Jill does not waste another second before springing into action. She begins with a thorough scrutinization of the scene of the crash, searching for any specific landmarks that will inform them of their current whereabouts. When all she finds is a street sign made of decaying wood that reads "Los Iluminados," she knows her luck is wearing thin.
When Carlos announces with a cracked voice his discovery, Jill limps with urgency to him. Nestled beneath the passenger seat is a map, crumbled and stained with filth. Jill yanks the paper from his hands and searches for the street they are currently stuck on, while also discerning the coordinates Umbrella had disclosed in their document.
Meanwhile, Carlos chokes out demands left and right. Asking her what all of this is for, and how this will help him in his efforts to reunite with his sweet bumblebee. Despite his irritating questions, she does not respond to him. She is too engrossed in her own head, manipulating her detective skills.
"There." Jill finally breaks her fit of silence.
Presenting the map to Carlos, she points to where the coordinates line up.
"That's where Y/N is."
A beat passes as Carlos, too, inspects the contents before him. Then, he snatches the map from Jill's hands. He storms off in the direction she advised with a desperate vengeance in his disposition.
When Jill takes a step to follow him, something clutches around her ankles. With a sharp gasp, she looks down to identify the sudden matter. When the hopeful fraction of her mind told her it could be you, she was met with disappointment when she finds Matt. Whining and pleading for her help, blood still oozing from his butchered head and seeping into the mud below.
Jill stares at the man with absolutely nothing in her eyes. She, instead, snatches a loose, sharp twig from the mess of detritus scattered around. Before Matt can obtrude another helpless plead, she drives the stuck directly into his eye. Blood squirts from the fresh wound like a fizzy soda. One last gurgle for air and his body finally goes limp.
She spits on his corpse. Then, Jill turns back to follow Carlos on his trail.
Wherever you may be, she will find you. Even if it kills her.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,
BUT I'M THINKING OF THE WAY IT WAS . . . ❞
long wait but we back again babyyyyy
gif creds :: leon.
#moonfairy#resident evil#leon kennedy#ada wong#jill valentine#carlos oliveira#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#ada wong x reader#jill valentine x reader#carlos oliveria x reader#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy smut#ada wong imagine#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveira imagine#yandere resident evil#yandere leon kennedy#yandere ada wong#yandere jill valentine#yandere carlos oliveira#yandere#gn reader#gender neutral reader#Spotify
964 notes
·
View notes
Text
RE characters and their S/O go to a Halloween Party!
i love them and they are stuck in my brain!!! gifs not mine
Characters listed!- Leon, Wesker, Jill, Carlos, Chris
CW- nsfw implications, alcohol
i hope yall cant tell ive never been to a halloween costume party lol
Leon Kennedy!
goes as a cowboy
yeehaw
hes got fake spurs and everything
he pulls it off, hes already got the gruff look so damn
would love it if you dressed up western with him but understands if you dont wanna
at the party he stands close to you with his arm around your waist
cant have anyone think youre here alone, or that hes here alone
he gets a bit tipsy
he steals the almond joys
remember the cowboy rules, theyre so important (for those who dont know if you take the hat off a cowboy and wear it, you have to save a horse and ride a cowboy wink wink)
if you want to leave the loud party early just take off his hat and wear it
he will get so flustered and red instantly
not a heartbeat later hes already dragging you out of the party, making hurried goodbyes and poor excuses of having something to do in the early morning
but people see the hat on your head and know
Albert Wesker!
no
hes not dressing up
,,, stop looking at him like that
...fine.
he 'wont make a fool of himself for the Umbrella Halloween party' he says
he honestly hasnt even gone to it before dating you so people are surpised to see him there
you put cat ears on his head before he can pick out a costume and he sends you a soft death glare
more than likely would wear a pin that says 'this is my costume' and hes just wearing everyday clothes, or would wear his lab coat and say hes going as a doctor. hes lame
if you bat your eyes and pout he will indulge you
goes as a vampire, fake cape, teeth, and all
would want to just show up at the party and make an irish goodbye in less than 5 minuets
stays for you tho
doesnt eat candy but you see him pocketing some mars bars
wesker with fangs is hot and he notices you staring at them when hes talking
smirks and tells you he 'doesnt bite'
its a lie, he does. and will bite your neck.
Jill Valentine!
gods im in love with her
she goes as a witch!!
cute witch hat and all
would accidentally loose you in a party for a little bit, shes just getting yall drinks so dont worry
she will do your makeup for your costume if you want (like that one meme of the two women)
she gets a little tipsy at the party, just enough to start giggling at any halloween pun you make
normally she just scoffs at them but shes having fun and enjoying herself with her beloved
shoves food in her bag, stealing some of the party food
help her please
the kit kats are hers
the more she drinks the more touchy she is with you, going from being sober and holding your hand to leaning up against you
someone asks if shes a witch wheres her broom she rides on and she just points to you much to your embarassment
tell her youll take her up on that and she will start to leave without saying goodbye to anyone
Carlos Oliveria!
hes a werewolf
theres no convincing him of anything else
he would go shirtless to show off his hairy chest and arms and would love how flustered you get at the idea
you shut him down really fast and make him wear a shirt because you would explode
wears a tattered, ripped up and slightly blooded tank top with a torn red flannel on top
its somehow more hot than him being shirtless
wears cute little clip on dog ears
my gods hes so hot hhhh
is also stealing party food
hes a snickers kinda guy but if theres fruit gummies they will be gone
i think he could hold his alcohol well so you would be more tipsy than him if you chose to drink
he makes the dumbest jokes, like really corny halloween jokes to anyone who will listen
"whats a skeletons favorite meal? spare ribs" he will be holding back a snicker with a face thats just >:3
hes such a dork
Chris Redfield!
hes wearing his sailor costume
im not saying this because his ass looks amazing in that outfit but
i feel like he does it as a joke at first but then flaunts it
compliment him and he will jokingly flex his biseps
please help him put on his fake tattoo (plus it gives you a chance to touch his muscles)
literally everyone is looking at him when he enters the party who wouldnt
i feel like he wouldnt drink that much, prob just have one or two shots or something
if you loose him at any point in the party please either check outside or the food table
he takes the twizzlers
100% has an arm around your shoulders or waist all night
will tease you because you keep looking at his legs
im sorry i love him so much he makes me so gay
he would love it if you walked up to him and just started to flirt with him
who cares if youre together, its so fun
"i seemed to misplaced my anchor,,, can i hook up with you tonight?" you ask him to which he almost spits out his drink, starts laughing, then sees in your eyes that youre not fully joking and he will instantly start making his goodbyes
---------------------------------------------
Hiya! this is my first time writing for all of these characters except for Wesker so im sorry if it seems ooc or just not fully correct!! im still new to resident evil and im trying to shove as much information as i can into my brain as fast as i can!!
reblogs help me grow more so if you like this please reblog and like! thank you and happy halloween!!!!
#resident evil#resident evil imagine#imagine#resident evil albert wesker#resident evil leon kennedy#resident evil jill valentine#resident evil carlos oliveria#albert wesker#wesker x reader#albert wesker x reader#wesker#resident evil x reader#albert wesker imagine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveria x reader#carlos oliveria#chris redfield#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield imagine#leon kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x reader#re4#re1#re5#re2#re3#jill valentine#x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
May i request Jill Valentine headcanons (with smaller reader if you accept such specification)? baby girl needs more love 🥺
- Jill Valentine x reader// headcanons
You’re so right, I love her sm I need to write for her more! Anyway hope you enjoy my lovely!! 💕💕
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
-If you’re shorter than her she would absolutely tease you about it!! I mean could you imagine her leaning against you as she reaches up for something you can’t. Her front pressed against your back.
- definitely would call you her ‘love bug’
- after all the terrible things she’s been through, she definitely enjoys the silence that you bring. The way you two can just be sitting around doing nothing brings her so much happiness.
- Jill loves waking you up with gentle kisses, all over your face and jaw. She normally wakes up way before you and so she takes that time to just admire you.
- Cooking with Jill is just wonderful, it’s really fun and she only gets fresh ingredients and so everything just tastes amazing.
^- However she doesn’t exactly know how to cook, I mean she spent so long in her run-down apartment eating takeout back in Raccoon City. But she’s a quick learner!!
- I feel like she would be secretly really good at games, I’m talking video to board games she’s just insanely good. Maybe it’s because she’s really smart.
^- she lets you win most of the time, just to see your smile because goodness she is just in love with your pretty smile!!
- loves seeing you in her clothes! It just honestly melts her. The way her clothes drape over your body.
- I feel like she would absolutely love to take showers with you! Omfg I need to write that like her just washing your hair so gently. She’s just so loving!!
- because of her job she’s very protective of you, she has definitely taught you self defence but even then it doesn’t stop her from worrying.
- Overall Jill in all honesty just wants the best for you because she loves you so very much!! And she tells you so every day <3
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
#resident evil#resident evil jill#resident evil jill valentine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine#jill valentine x you#jill valentine fluff#jill valentine fic#jill valentine drabble#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine one shot#jill valentine fanfic#re3make#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x reader#resident evil drabble#resident evil imagines#resident evil x you#resident evil fluff#resident evil fic#resident evil one shot#resident evil 3
326 notes
·
View notes
Note
i LOVED In the Middle,😍🥰 thank you so much!!! Could you please write Jill x fem!reader sleepy, romantic morning sex?
I love your work!! Thanks, again!
Good Morning
~Jill Valentine x fem! Reader~
Word count: 2353
Content warnings: smut, sexual content, female reader, reader referred to as a woman, lesbian sex, dominant jill, submissive reader, pet name baby used often, tribing/grinding/humping/scissoring, PRAISE, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (reader receiving), love bombs
!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS IS PURELY SEXUAL CONTENT!!!!!!!
“Do you ever sleep in, Valentine?” you teased your girlfriend. It’s an early Saturday morning and neither one of you work today. That leaves you free to sleep in and spend the day doing whatever you please.
But not Jill Valentine, oh no. Sun’s up, Jill’s up. She always has something to work on. One morning you woke up only a few hours after she did, to a rearranged living room with a fresh coat of paint.
“There’s a whole part of the day that you miss out on, baby. Do you know how much you can get done with the extra few hours in the morning?” she placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Nope. And I’m not interested in learning either,” you grabbed an extra pillow and buried your face into it. Nothing of significance could happen before noon, at least not significant enough to be better than the extra hours of sleep. Jill laughs as she rubs soothing circles into your back. If she really wanted you to wake up for the day, she sure as hell wasn’t helping. A few more minutes of this and you’d be right back to sleep.
“Alright, sleeping beauty. I’ll let you get back to sleep. It’s too bad though, I had plans for you,” she cooed at you. She definitely piqued your interest with that statement. Jill never disappoints with her plans or ideas, especially when it comes to you.
You sigh before propping yourself up on an elbow, “Okay, I’m listening.” Jill smiles down at you victoriously. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on now, before I change my mind,” you state before laying your head back in the pillows, your chest towards the ceiling.
“I was just thinking, you’ve been working a lot of hours,” Jill raises her eyebrows at you.
“Yeah.”
“And I’ve been working a lot of hours,” she points her thumb towards her chest.
“That is also true,” you say cautiously. You weren’t quite sure where she was going with this. Knowing Jill, you could end up three towns over, remodeling the bathroom, or with her between your legs. Now that you’re thinking about it, you hope she ends up between your legs. Your heart rate slightly picks up just at the thought of it.
She shoots you a look knowingly, reading the change in the expression on your face. “And I’ve missed you so much this week. I’m hoping you missed me just as much,” she caresses your cheek and you lean into the touch.
“You know I did.”
Jill chuckles at your response. “So, I was thinking,” she pulls herself on top of you, her legs straddling yours, “I could show you just how much I missed you.” You gaze up at her face, your eyes being pulled to her lips as her teeth dig into them, before releasing them and running her tongue along her button lip.
You hum at her curiously, “I don’t know, I’m not feeling very missed. You might have to work extra hard.” She nuzzles her face in your neck, her lips leaving open mouthed kisses along your pulse point. You feel yourself growing steadily wet, your arousal beginning to drip into your panties.
Jill didn’t even have to try, your body always turned into putty beneath her. You always gave yourself over to the perfect woman so easily. All she had to do was climb on top of you and make promises of what she could do to you for you to become desperate for her touch. She knew your body so well, almost as if it was made for her. And in the back of your mind, you believe you probably were made for her.
“Baby,” she gently nips at the sensitive skin of your neck, “You know I’m not afraid of a little hard work.”
As soon as the last word leaves her mouth, she’s sucking the skin of your neck harshly between her teeth. Your body instinctively arches up into hers, encouraging her to bite into your neck. You hiss at the mixture of pain and pleasure. Before you can say anything, she’s releasing your skin from her teeth and gently lapping at the sore skin with her tongue.
Your hands tightly fist the back of her oversized t-shirt and she’s quick to pull it from your grasp, yanking it over her head. Your eyes take in her bare chest, nipples raised at the sudden exposure to the chill of your bedroom. You groan as you admire the sight above you. Every time Jill undresses for you it’s just as exciting as the very first time. You could never grow tired of seeing her pale skin and supple breasts.
You crane your neck up to suck one of her nipples into your mouth, earning you a glorious moan from Jill. You take her other nipple between your thumb and index finger, rolling it in time with your mouth's actions on the other. You’ve never been known as a patient woman, so you’re quickly bringing your mouth to her other nipple and sucking it just as eagerly. She must be pleased with what you’re doing to her because her hips start to grind deeply into yours.
You pull your mouth away from her breasts, head falling back into the pillows as a moan slips past your lips at the friction she’s giving you. Pure need is coursing through your body as your hips buck up into hers, desperate for more. You look up from where you two meet to gaze into Jill’s eyes, only to find her already staring down at you. The look on her face could only be described as pure admiration; it has you melting beneath her.
“I might die if you don’t kiss me right now.”
Jill chuckles and shakes her head, “Don’t do that, baby. I’m not even close to finished with you yet.” And with that her lips crash into yours. It’s sloppy and passionate, which is often how you find yourself kissing her. Your love for her battles with your desperation for her, resulting in teeth clashing together and slobber slipping down your chins.
Your hands run up her body until your fingers are gripped tightly into her hair. She moans into your mouth at the pull, but you can’t control yourself. You don’t know if you two can get any closer, but you need her closer so you’ll certainly fucking try.
Jill’s hands roam your body, stopping to play with the hem of your pajama pants. You’re suddenly regretting wearing them to bed last night, despite how chilly the air was. Now, you are burning up, desperately trying to get the pants off of your body as sweat starts to shine on your overheated skin.
Jill grips the fabric and starts to tug it down, you can’t help but eagerly raise your hips to assist her. You whine when you realize she’s pulled your panties off with the pants. Nothing keeps her from where you want her most and you’re dying for her to reach out; to ease the ache growing between your thighs.
“Eager, are we?” she taunts you before her lips connect with yours again.
“Very.”
“No time to waste then,” she hurriedly tugs your shirt off and pulls off her panties, leaving you two completely naked for each other. She leans back down to you as you wrap your legs around her waist. You pull her hips until they’re flushed with yours again.
She gently nips at your bottom lip with her teeth, teasing you. Your lip quivers as your legs clench around her body, trying your hardest to remain patient for her.
This was how she liked you, patient and obedient beneath her. Jill liked to be in control, she needed control over everything possible after what she’d been through. You on the other hand, you needed to relinquish control. You found power and strength in submission, and Jill absolutely adored this. You two meshed together perfectly.
Jill placed one last kiss on your lips before straightening her back, giving you the most immaculate view of her in the process. She spread your thighs until your pussy was perfectly spread for her. She hums appreciatively as she soaks in the view of your body on display just for her.
Your hips stutter and shake the more you lay there waiting for Jill to touch you. She takes notice of each little twitch and smirks at how needy you are for her.
She closes the mere few inches separating her pussy from yours, pressing against you firmly. A pathetic whine leaves your mouth and you can’t help but blush at the embarrassing sound.
“Awe, sweet girl, don’t be ashamed. I absolutely love those adorable sounds you make for me. They’re my second favorite thing,” she praises you. You bite your lip to fight your eyes from rolling back into your skull.
You squirm beneath her, “What’s your favorite thing?” Your voice comes out quiet and breathless, but just loud enough for Jill to hear.
Jill smiles from ear to ear, “This sweet pussy of yours. Don’t ever forget it.” She takes the opportunity while you’re distracted trying to process her words to start grinding her pussy into yours.
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your skull now. You also can’t help the whiny, high-pitched moan that tumbles from you either. The stimulation of her clit against yours has your entire body rumbling with overwhelming pleasure. You can feel it from your toes, all the way up to the follicles of your hair.
“Fuck, that feels so good, Jill, holy shit, yes,” you mumble your words out in between pants. You can’t process a single coherent thought. The only thing you’re able to focus on is the pleasure you’re receiving.
“Yeah? You like when my pussy kisses yours, baby?” she asks, a blush breaking out across the skin of your face and chest from her words. “Yeah you do. I can feel how wet you just got for me.” And holy fuck, can you feel it too. You can feel your whole pussy pulsing with arousal and need.
Jill continues to steadily grind into your pussy. You have to consciously force yourself to swallow your saliva to keep from drooling on yourself. Your pussy clenches around nothing as Jill starts grinding into your clit just right.
Your back arches, further pushing you into the pleasure, hitting that perfect spot harder.
You whine out desperately, “Your pussy feels so good, Jill. Grind your pussy into me, holy fuck. Just like that, just like that. You feel so fucking good, baby. You feel perfect.” Maybe you’d feel shame at how needy you sound if you weren’t so close to coming all over her pussy.
“You gonna come?” you nod quickly, “Fucking hold it. You’re gonna come with me when I come,” she demands as she starts moving her hips faster, arousal pouring down both of your thighs as your pussies grind together wetly.
“I’m trying, fuck I’m trying. You fuck me so good, you’re fucking me so so good. God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you plead with her. You’re clenching your muscles tensely trying to hold back your orgasm, but with the way she’s fucking you, it’s basically impossible.
“Come for me, baby. I’m gonna come for you,” Jill tells you and you’re instantly sent over the edge. Your nails dig into the flesh of her hips harshly as your body convulses with waves of hot pleasure. The look on your face while you come is what finally sends Jill over the edge as well.
“I’m coming, I’m coming all over your sweet pussy,” Jill pants out as she keeps the pace of her fast grinding. Her head falls back as loud moans fall from her mouth, extending your orgasm. You can’t stop coming against her pussy and the overstimulation has tears falling from your eyes.
Jill’s orgasm finally passes as she looks down at you panting heavily. She slowly rubs her pussy against you, making you whimper at the aftershocks shooting through you.
“Such a good girl, my sweet girl,” Jill praises you, staring at your body with lust blown eyes. A thin layer of sweat coats her body, emphasizing her post-orgasm glow. The way she looks at you has your clit pulsing painfully.
Jill finally scoots away from your core, you squeeze your eyes shut as the cool air hits your swollen and used cunt. You spend a few seconds trying to steady your breathing before your back is arching off of the mattress as Jill’s tongue starts lapping at your clit.
“J-Jill, wait. I, fuck, I can’t. Shit, I can’t handle it,” you whine pitifully as your fingers grip her hair tightly.
She pulls her head back just an inch, still feeling her hot breath on your pussy, “You can take it, baby. Be a good girl and let me clean up the mess I made.” She quickly brings her mouth back to you, sucking and slurping your come mixed with hers off of your sensitive lips.
“I c-can’t,” you whimper before a loud moan steals your breath, “Fuck, your mouth feels so good. Oh my god. What’s the point of cleaning the mess just to cause another?” You start helplessly grinding against her face.
Jill hushes you, “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer, love. Just come in my mouth like I know you want to.”
“Ugh, yes. I wanna come in your fucking mouth. I wanna come with your tongue on my pussy.”
“That’s my girl. And my girl gets what she wants, doesn’t she? Relax and let me show you why you love me.”
“I love you for more than your incredible tongue. I mean, your talented tongue does fucking help though. You have to be such an expert at everything.”
Jill laughs at your words, “Love you too.” No more words leave the pretty woman’s mouth as it becomes occupied with more important things. Fuck, maybe you could grow to like mornings if this is how they start every day.
~masterlist~
#jill valentine#jill valentine smut#jill valentine x you#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine x y/n#jill smut#resident evil#resident evil smut#resident evil 3#smut#jill valentine fanfiction#jill valentine fanfic#jill valentine imagine#jill x reader#jill x you#jill x y/n#wlw nsft#ghostkennedy
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
classified intel // jill valentine
Jill x GN!Reader
Fluff
wc: 1,543
suggestive themes bc reader sends jill a tasteful nude, reader implied to be civilian, post-di!Jill.
this almost turned into angst, but i excised the sad parts and it turned into another wip. tbh i should be prepping for my tabletop tomorrow but i miss my wife.
Jill's on a work trip, but that's never stopped you from texting her before and it sure as hell's not going to stop you now.
also known as:
i am ruminating on a relationship with jill once more. 😔
Their point remains. You and Jill are apart far more than either of you would like. She’s a busy woman by her own design. Her drive had been something that you had admired about her, even if it was the very same thing that kept her from you. You hadn’t entered this relationship blind to the fact that she would be gone sometimes. You had learned to be okay with it, learned to handle the distance that was often double-edged.
Technically speaking, your relationship isn’t long distance.
Just because Jill spent a large portion of her time overseas, god-knows-where, doing god-knows-what, did not mean that you were long distance. Yeah, maybe you do have to schedule calls, fighting timezones and your responsibilities to carve out a measly half hour with each other. That doesn’t qualify, technically, as long distance. You tell this to your friends over and over again. Still, they roll their eyes, hum their doubt, and insist that you may as well be long distance.
Texting was usually infrequent when she was away. Her personal cell phone was usually left behind when she went out for assignments - and if she did have it, it was turned off and shoved to the bottom of her pack. You texted her throughout the day, leaving behind a collection of your thoughts for her to come back to. She had taken to responding in one text, a bullet-point list to catch up on everything that she had missed.
Once, you had gotten anxious about bothering her, about the egregious amount of notifications she would be flooded with when she finally turned her phone back on. You had sent her just one text, telling her to be safe, that you loved her. She had called you the moment she had service, demanding to know what was wrong. Thought something happened to you, I don’t know, she had grumbled, dismissing her paranoia easily over the phone. You had let it go unchallenged, quietly returning to your text spam. The next time she had a chance to talk to you, she had saved her bullet-points for a phone call.
The last time you had heard from her, her plane had landed safely. Her day was going to be packed with intelligence meetings - not really the kind of thing she could be on her phone during. You’ve just gotten home from work when your phone chimes. You take your time checking it, not expecting your girlfriend to be able to chat. She was at least three hours behind you, still in the middle of her work day.
It's a pleasant surprise to see a text from her. Instead of her usual bullet-point reply, she had sent an unflattering picture of a pitbull. Jill’s arm came in from the side of the frame, her hand blurred in the motion of a head pat. The text accompanying it simply read:
5:12 PM: PB&J.
Before you could even ask what that was supposed to mean, Jill sent a second text.
5:29 PM: His name is PB&J.
You grin at your phone, sending her an array of emojis to show how cute that is. You flop back onto your bed, your phone held over your face.
5:31 PM: can you call? just got home lol
5:35 PM: Sorry. Waiting for my next meeting to start.
Shit. You push down your disappointment and look for the silver-lining. At least you could text her for a little bit before she got wrapped up in work again. The dishes in the sink were forgotten in favor of the back and forth between you and Jill. It was hardly the most thrilling conversation. You exchanged the daily monotonies with each other - what sort of coffee she had that morning, how terrible traffic had been for you on your way home, your coat forgotten over the back of your chair at work and Jill’s pen borrowed from an embassy, blue ink, ballpoint and scratchy. It’s easier to superimpose the memory of her alongside you when you have the little details to work with, when you can fill in the gaps in your imagination with the particulars.
Naturally, this devolved into teasing.
5:47 PM: what are you wearing?
5:47 PM: That’s classified.
5:48 PM: tank top and jeans again, huh
was kind of hoping for a pantsuit 👀
i know u packed that navy one
send pics
You scrolled through your photos, searching for a set of pictures you had taken a few nights ago. If you were going to ask for pics, it was only fair that you send one in return. You had taken them early in the week, consumed by a swell of confidence that had been flushed away the moment you had to scroll through them. You had scrutinized every angle, pinpointed every flaw, every way the light played off of your skin. Your motivation to send them had dwindled quickly. They were filed away into a password protected album, a break in case of emergency stash of photos that may never see the light of day.
Rip the band-aid off, you tell yourself. Send it before you can second guess yourself. You pick your favorite photo, your thumb hesitating over the send button for a fraction of a second before you decide fuck it. She’ll like it. Hopefully.
You drop your phone facedown onto your chest so you don’t stare anxiously at the conversation. It takes all of ten seconds for it to chime again.
5:55 PM: You know the BSAA monitors my texts, right?
Your heart lurches. No way. No fucking way. She’s got to be bluffing. The idea of Jill’s colleague scrolling through your messages with her was mortifying. It wasn’t like this was the first time you had sent her pictures like that. Even if you hadn’t sent those, there were still plenty of texts that you didn’t need anyone else seeing.
She’s bluffing. Has to be.
5:57 PM: bullshit lol
5:57 PM: very funny
6:13 PM: youre not serious right
6:14 PM: ??
6:14 PM: jill pls
6:24 PM: omg ur not joking are you
Logically, you knew that Jill’s meeting had started. That was why she wasn’t responding. You knew there was no way the BSAA monitored her personal communication 24/7, and you knew that if they did she would have told you about it the first time you had sent her a picture like that, not the hundredth. However, you also knew that she loved keeping you in suspense. No matter what she said to the contrary, you knew that Jill loved to watch you squirm. She found it cute, or so she had confided in you one night, half-asleep and tangled in your sheets.
It took a full hour later for Jill to get back to you. During the course of that hour, you damn near paced a track around your bedroom and filled your google search history with plenty of things to ruin your targeted advertising. Choice examples include ‘employee handbook bsaa north america’ and ‘bsaa employee phone policy’.
Your phone doesn’t even finish the first ring. You see Jill’s name flash on screen, and you’ve already got your phone up to your ear.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” you blurt out, your thumb wedged between your teeth.
Jill blurts out a confused what, her voice wobbling with a laugh. It clicks for her a moment later.
“Oh - the ‘monitoring my texts’ thing?” She says, voice lighting with amusement. “Yeah, no. They don’t do that. You look good, though. Did I buy that?”
You let out a relieved groan. “You are such an asshole,” you huff. “I was worried the entire United Nations had just seen my ass.”
“Oh, c’mon. I would have told you not to send stuff like that if they were pulling my texts.” You can’t argue with that. She may have liked to see you squirm, but she was well aware of your boundaries.
“Got any other angles? I remember that outfit having more straps.”
You snort. “Maybe. Gonna need some reciprocation first, though.”
You hear Jill hum over the phone. A door opens in the background, a deep voice drifting over the phone, indecipherable. Jill pauses, listening.
“I’ll see what I can do. Gotta go.”
You hurry to say goodbye, squeezing a quick love you in before the call cut off.
The quiet creeps back into your apartment. You’re left staring at Jill’s contact photo. You tap it to view it in full. Jill’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head thrown back in a laugh. You were cuddled up on the porch swing of a bed & breakfast, an impromptu weekend trip Jill had taken you on a month ago. You had cropped the photo, centering it on Jill - on the way she looked at you and smiled, her eyes soft in a way that you had never seen before.
Your phone buzzed, and you nearly swiped the notification away out of habit. You caught yourself just in time, catching Jill’s name.
8:53 PM: 1 attachment
Your eyes scoured the picture, grin crinkling the corners of your eyes. Goddamn - you knew she had packed that pantsuit. You’re typing a reply when she sends another text.
8:54 PM: Do not say awooga.
You delete your draft and think of a different way to express your appreciation.
#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine fluff#resident evil x reader#resident evil imagine#resident evil fluff#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine x gn!reader#resident evil#jill valentine#ngl i had a real 'this edible aint shit' moment halfway through writing this jakdfjal
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
nsfw jill w fem reader? headcanon or oneshot (whichever you’re comfortable with), just what do you think she’d be into w her partner things like that :> tysm
I think I can do both possibly my mind is kind of foggy on the difference between headcannon and oneshot just because my lack of sleep and people that I remember who had pissed me off today, but I think that I can conjure up something to your liking. :)
I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for requesting lately my inbox has been fucking empty 🥲
NSFW Jill Valentine x Fem! Reader
Cw. A lot of sexual themes, more so, NSFW content.
A/N: I don’t have time to put all the warnings in so bear with me here. I’m sorry on some of these idk what I’m doing or thinking half the time and that this is very short. 😭
SMUT WITH PLOT AHEAD! MDNI!!
****************************************************
— She is definitely the type to have a bad day at work and come home to angry fucking you and would feel guilty afterwards because she didn’t tell you what happened.
You heard the front door open and loudly slam shut as you looked back down at your phone, jill went closer to you with heavy footsteps and grabbed your hand gripping it dragging you to the bedroom as she locked the door behind her. She pushed you down into the matress spreading your thighs as one of her knee’s held them open, whilst she puts on her dark blue silicone strap before continuing to let her anger out in a way much easy for her.
She removes her knee as she puts both of your legs on each side of her shoulder, kissing your inner thighs and leaving small bite marks out of love. Without hesitation she slides right inside your cunt, maybe it was because the sight of seeing her mad to the point where it makes her angry enough to fuck you looks hot as hell and turns you on?
She starts at a slow before her pace picks up at a very fast rate, the strap getting deeper and deeper with each thrust till you almost can’t speak a sentence. “God— Fuck!” You cry out, she starts to kiss and suck on your neck while she grips harshly onto your hips bound to leave a bruise sooner or later.
You can see the sweat beads rolling off her body as her hips begin to rock harder and harder causing you to moan louder every time her hands hold on tighter. Skin on skin filled the air along with your sweet precious moans, soon your breathing became shallow as well as her movements becoming more frantic until you couldn’t take it any longer.
Your walls began to tighten around the strap, “I didn’t say you can cum yet, so be a good fucking slut and wait for me to say you can.” Jill said with a smirk and then rutted into you again making you yell even louder than before but this time in pure bliss.
“Fuck— Fucking— Yes!” The last word slipped out of your mouth, she slowed down her thrusting making sure to make it last as long as possible. It took her some time until she let you cum which made you squirm in pleasure as a feeling of pleasure and satisfaction flooded through you from the inside out.
“Good girl,” Jill whispers softly kissing your cheek before pulling out of your cunt before laying back down next to you with a smile. She takes off the strap and pulls you against herself holding you close feeling a sense of guilt she let her anger out on you, but it was worth it.
————————————————————————
— whenever she’s doing paperwork in her at home office you like to try and gain her attention by bothering her, although this time is different because instead of her trying to get you off you have to do all the work as she does her own work. But when you release she likes to praise you for doing such a good job at obeying her and gives you attention.
Jill is in her office doing paperwork as usual, while you mess around with things in her office hoping to gain attention from her because you haven’t gotten any all day.
“Y/N, stop being a nuisance and making my office a mess.” Jill demands you, but you had other plans to try and gain attention.
“Why don’t you make me then, hm?” you said with a very snarky tone. You walked up to her desk and sat in front of her smirking at her before putting your feet on the edge of her desk and leaning over to look at her better, she just glared at you.
“Or maybe I should help myself to your office instead?” You suggest with a wink, she glares at you more with that same annoyed expression on her face before standing up.
“Get off my desk, now, Y/N.” She ordered you, it was kind of hot the way she said it too. Jill grabs your arm harshly untying her sweatpants, which you were watching her every move whilst she rubbed lube on her strap and plotted down on without hesitation facing her. “Since you want to gain my attention, you can help yourself to getting off.” Jill says sternly, you pout like a child before obeying as she continues what she was doing. You rest your head into the crook of your neck breathing heavily as your hands grip onto her shoulder trying to get off.
Your pace was very slow at first but it began to quicken, Jill bucks her hips up to tease you a bit. Feeling her gyrating hips and her chest pressing against yours and you wanted more. You felt more of your arousal starting to make a bigger pool in between your legs which leaked onto jill’s sweatpants.
You started to pant and groan as you tried to focus all of your energy into moving your hips faster, Jill finished with her work and started to kiss and leave bite marks on your neck as she gripped you even tighter. Her kisses were getting shorter and shorter until you couldn’t take it anymore. You bucked your hips up quickly as your climax hits you and your release came.
Cum threatening to leak out of you and onto Jill’s sweatpants, which it soon did “Such a good attention seeking-whore for me, aren’t you?” She chuckled as she cleaned up your mess with a towel before removing her sweatpants and throwing them into the laundry basket.
“Was my baby that needy for my attention?” you hummed in response, as you wrapped her in your arms to comfort her.
“Of course she is, after all, I am your only source of stimulation, aren't I, dear?” She asked as she kissed your forehead, you nodded in response to her question while nuzzling her cheek with yours.
————————————————————————
— If you ask to try new things like being restrained or tied up she will use a pair of fluffy handcuffs or ropes, which are now her favorite thing to use on you besides toys.
When you asked jill that you wanted to try something new in bed, she was questioning the new thing to try. At first she was hesitant, but she went with it as you pulled out a pair of fluffy handcuffs you bought out of a box underneath the bed with every other item you have used.
“Won’t this be too restricting?” Jill asked looking worried, you scoffed at her.
“This isn’t like actual handcuffs, Jill. They are only used during sex, but the possibilities are endless.” You explained to her as you handed them to her, she restrained your arms behind your back as she bended you over the edge of the bed and put you in a face down-ass up position.
Spreading your legs open, so your pussy is on full display just for her. She licks her lips at the site of your dripping cunt, you gasp when she gently inserts her fingers inside of your slick entrance. You felt her fingers moving slowly at first, teasing you by stroking your folds slowly. Hips already swaying to her motions in order to increase the friction as she moved her finger in and out of your wet hole. Your pussy was beginning to throb in need for more, Jill continued to lick her lips before removing her fingers lowering her head down kissing your inner thighs, she then sucked on your clit causing you to moan loudly as your entire body was heating up.
She continued to lick as she slowly bobbed her head up and down your clit sending waves of pleasure throughout your body, she let out a small chuckle to your reactions.
The sensation was unbearable and made you arch your back as your pussy convulsed beneath her. Soon after your orgasm subsided, she used both her tongue and a few fingers.
“Mmh— you taste so good~” As she kept slurping your juices right up, her hands gripping your thighs to keep them from closing as you squirmed. Your thighs began to shake rapidly, “Fuck….Jill— m’gonna cum!”, she picked her pace up causing you to scream her name loudly, your orgasim washing over you as you came. Juices squirting all over her face as she licked it off and finished eating you out like there was no tomorrow.
————————————————————————
MORE TO BE ADDED.
#resident evil x reader#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil#resident evil x fem! reader#resident evil x you#resident evil jill#jill valentine x y/n#jill valentine x fem! reader#jill valentine x you#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine#resident evil headcanons#oneshot
207 notes
·
View notes
Note
I saw you had requests open for Jill Valentine and I'm here humbly requesting some nsfw of her!
Perhaps some romantic smut where Jill is treating the afab reader and praising them?
sweetness | jill valentine x f!reader
summary. jill makes love to you.┆masterlist
content warnings. mdni! smut/nsfw; afab reader, oral and fingering (r!receiving), marking/hickeys, praise kink, jill being the loml sighhh, also not proofread :)
word count. 1.4k
a/n: here sum jill smut :> was very excited hehehehe i love jill so much pls send more req!!
jill is sweet. undeniably sweet. a contrast to how she usually is outside of your relationship. you’ve never expected her to be so intensely intimate with you before you had gotten together, always so reserved and serious about her work to the point where she never even has time for anything. but here she is; hovering over you right on her bed with her soft lips peppering light pecks against the dip of your collarbone, traveling upwards towards the side of your neck, then behind your ear where she sucks on your skin lightly to add more to your collection of hickeys.
it’s gotten so dark already, you realize as you turn your head towards the window of her apartment to give her more access. you hear the night of the raccoon city come alive, bustling just out her window and you can’t even remember what you were doing a couple hours ago— wait, no. you were preparing dinner for the two of you before jill got home. that’s right. she came home from the station pretty early today, you remember. you also remember the seductive look in her eyes when she first saw you in the kitchen wearing nothing but your panties and one of her white shirts that you found somewhere in her dresser.
it took jill a couple minutes to realize she was staring. your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, your cheeks flushed against the heat emitting from the stove and your hands lightly stirring whatever it was you were cooking. god, you looked divine. this was something she wanted to come home to every single fucking day. you. just you. and so after minutes of admiring the beautiful woman in her small apartment, jill decided to walk up, turn the stove off for you and kiss you all the way up to her bed.
her kisses make you weak. hell, anything she does to you makes you weak and she takes advantage of this. she knows how much you want her by the sound of your ragged breaths, your tiny little whimpers and your chest rising up and down just against her own. and she knows how painfully bad you need her by the way you run your fingers through her short brown hair. it was always something about your hands in her hair or on any part of her body that makes groan against your neck. she could feel your fingertips at the back of her head traveling down softly to her nape, tugging at her hair.
“i love it when you do that,” jill whispers softly against your skin, before lifting her head up to look at you.
it’s unfair, jill thinks. it’s unfair how sexy you looked, how wet you made her, how in-love she felt when she looks at you. so pretty. so beautiful underneath her. and the way you looked up at her at this very moment, the way your eyes were practically begging her to just take you, the way your lips parted slightly for you to breath out and your hands still playing with her hair the the back of her neck, made her feel like her knees would give out at any moment.
“fuck, (y/n),” she says, her wetness pooling more and more in between her legs. “i’m going to make you feel so good.”
“i can’t wait, valentine…”
her name. jill takes a moment to close her eyes and sigh at the sound of her last name slipping out of your mouth. she loves the way her name sounds when it comes from you. how breathy it is, how whiny it is, how needy you are. you call out to her and only her and jill can barely even think straight because of it.
seconds later, she dips her head down once again, only this time, her kisses are sloppier and wetter as she travels down the valley of your breasts at agonizingly slow pace. her hands rub your waist roughly, occasionally moving upwards to give your breasts a tight squeeze as her lips reach your hips and finally your thighs.
“jill… please…” you spread your legs instinctively, watching how hard jill stares at you, feeling her own breath against your clit.
“perfect,” she says under breath.
she sucks the skin between on your inner thighs as she looks up at you, littering your thighs with perfect purple bruises. she knows what you want. you need her there. and as if she read your mind, jill dips two fingers into your glistening pussy, eliciting a moan coming from your mouth. she groans at how wet you felt. she did this. she made you like this. and it made her feel amazing.
“always so good for me,” jill smirks, pulling her fingers out of you abruptly so that she could spread your folds apart. “my good girl.”
jill finally dives right in your pussy, moaning at how sweet you taste. you can never forget how well jill uses her tongue. the way she slurps and sucks and licks all over with precision has your legs shaking in no time. and your moans. fuck. music to her fucking ears. the little whimpers you let out was almost enough to make jill come alone. you buck your hips against her face, forcing her to push you down to the mattress. jill can’t help but hum in pleasure against your pussy as she eats you out. the way her tongue moves out of you to lick around your clit before sucking hard makes you scream her name.
“mmm.”
“j-jill— oh, fuck!”
“you taste so good, baby,” she smirks, ogling the way your body shook and your legs quivered before slipping her fingers inside of you. “you make such pretty sounds.”
with no warning, jill places her lips around your clit once again, sucking hard at your bundle of nerves as her digits pump in and out of you relentlessly with no sign of stopping. your hands inevitably hook themselves in jill’s short hair, not knowing whether to push or pull. the shiver you felt in your spine causes you to arch you back, gripping tightly at her hair, before you finally come undone, cumming right on tongue.
jill pulls away from your clit with a pop, carefully circling around it with her tongue, observing how sensitive it made you feel as your legs shake around her shoulders, before pulling away to lick her fingers clean. her eyes wander all over your body; the way you sweat, the way you tremble, the way you pant. how could she think or even breathe when you’re looking so delectable like this? everything about you drove her crazy.
“j-jill…” you call out weakly. “come here..”
your girlfriend wastes no time crawling back up so she could meet you face to face, carefully tucking your matted hair behind you ear.
“yes, baby?”
“i love you,” you tell her with a smile.
“i love you. so much.”
you run your hand through her hair for the hundredth time tonight before pulling her down to capture her lips. your tongues don’t fight for dominance, jill has always won those battles. always. you can taste yourself on her tongue and you can’t help but moan at the thought of her eating you out again. her mouth, her tongue, her fingers. whatever she used, she was always such a master at using them. she made you feel so good that can’t even think straight anymore.
jill pulls away, leaving you breathless. her lips were plump, her chin was still glistening from you cumming in her mouth and her eyes stared you down like she was far from finished. slowly, you begin to feel jill’s fingertips slide down your stomach back to where you were most sensitive, all the while not breaking eye contact with you.
“(y/n)…” jill breathes out, almost as if she was nervous. “i’m gonna need you to tell me if you want me to stop later, okay? i don’t know if i can… stop on my own.”
you tug at jill’s hair and moan against her bare shoulder, wetness pooling in between your thighs once more at the sound of her voice and you can’t help but say, “i don’t want you to stop.”
fuck, she thinks. jill sighs and closes her eyes, groaning at the sensation of your breath against her neck, your fingers pulling at her hair, and the way you leave small kisses on her shoulder. she can’t get enough of you. you’re hers and she’s yours.
and so, jill decides to make love to you all night, over and over again.
a/n: bro respectfully i’m a huge ass simp for jill and i’m not even ashamed that woman is so fine
#jill my beloved i miss her#capcom bring her back pls#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine#resident evil#resident evil 3#re3 remake#jill valentine imagine#imagines#jill x reader#resident evil smut#smut
529 notes
·
View notes
Text
mostly self inserting but omg jill valentine is lowkey a tease, i can smell it, like shes so mother. Im someone thats bratty and can be quite bossy or make sassy remarks often and omg jill wouldnt immediately punish you but she would make you EAT THOSE WORDS UPPPP, i need to be treated like that i swear, she prolly says things like:
"aww not so tough now are we?" as she fucks you with her strap at a slow and taunting pace making you whine for more as you try to grind your hips for more friction against the one specific spot and makes u melt completely. "someones getting needy huh? you want more princess? i know you want it so bad ~ but you've been quite a brat dont you think? brats dont deserve to cum until mommy says so" and she would hold you still and fuck you at her own pace and you whine, whimper and squeak at her begging her to let you cum, maybe even crying in fraustration, she would probably chuckle at you making you regret your behaviour from earlier
god i need to stop shes just too hot to resist
#xav rambles#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine x reader#resident evil 3#im not a writer this is just for funs#wlw fanfic#wlw reads#wlw community#lesbian nsft#resident evil imagine#resident evil smut
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you do prompt 7 and 8 (locked in a room together and teaching how to do something) from the forced proximity with jill valentine?? :))
she's so pretty oml- and again if i had made any mistakes feel free to correct me!
jill valentine x gn! reader
wc: 1.3k
prompts: 7. locked in a room together + 8. teaching you how to do something
warning/s: being trapped in an elevator, mentions of claustrophobia, descriptions of a panic attack, anxiety
Jill Valentine.
You hadn’t officially met her, but you’ve heard about her skills. From what it sounds like, she is one hell of an agent. Well, you must be if you were a part of S.T.A.R.S.
Sometimes you would spot her in the hallways, always wearing a cheerful smile on her face when she spots familiar faces.
You weren’t one of those however, but you’ve been catching her eye for quite a while now.
Today, you were just about to head home after a ton of paperwork. Fixing the rest of your stuff, you carried your bag, making your way to the elevator. It was now in the afternoon as you stepped foot in the elevator.
You sigh as your muscles screamed for rest; you were about to press the ground floor when-
“Wait! Hold up!” A voice said, suddenly appearing in front of its doors and sliding right in just as they closed.
Looking at the person beside you, it was the last person you had expected to join you.
It was Jill herself, brushing her clothes of non-existent dirt as she sighed, glad that she made it. “Thanks.” She says glancing at you.
Her voice, you hadn’t heard it before, but you nodded at her, offering a smile. You may be looking calm on the outside, but on the inside, you were absolutely losing it.
The silence was getting into your head, wishing that time had gone faster inside the elevator, but as you glanced at what floor you were on, you barely made it past three. The awkward tension of you two standing beside each other was making you look everywhere but at her.
“Were you headed home?” Jill was the one to break the awkwardness, making a conversation with you.
“Mhm, I am, work’s done, I think, I don’t want my boss calling me up and making me work overtime just for some missed work.” You sighed out, Jill talking to you was certainly getting your mind off things, especially with your claustrophobia seeping into your veins.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you probably finished them all already.” She stirs away your doubts.
“Hope so, how about you?” You asked her. It felt like the time had slowed down when you were in the elevator, and it was already making you uneasy that you were fiddling with the buckle of your bag.
Jill looked surprise to have the question thrown back at her. “Wish I could say the same, but they need me for a meeting later and I thought I’d grab something to eat first…” She spoke.
You smile, you hadn’t expected to be talking to her and it was…nice. Her voice sounded delightful, and she actually seemed pretty interested in what you were saying, rather than with some of your co-workers.
About to respond, the elevator suddenly clanged and jolted to a stop, making the two of you lose your footing, bumping into each other before steadying yourselves.
“Hey- what the hell?” You said, standing up and looking at the elevator screen. It was blank as the lights flickered. You looked around, brows gluing together as you pressed the buttons.
“They really need to fix this elevator.” Jill said. You gulped. “Yeah, they really do.” You stuttered tried to respond, repeatedly pressing the emergency button, hoping it would work.
Your breathing picked up, but you tried to focus on other things. It proved to be difficult as your heart began pounding in your ears. You frown, trying to suppress your emotions.
Jill watched as you doubled over, leaning your hand against the wall as you closed your eyes shut. “Hey, are you okay?” She softly asked.
Her voice was muffled but you understood her. “Uhm, yeah- just need a moment.” You breathed out but breathed in too quick, causing an ache settling in your chest.
Jill felt like she was looking at a mirror, she could see what was happening with you; you were having a panic attack. This scene sends her back to unpleasant memories, her brain quickly turning on her alert mode as she softly grabbed your shoulder, making you look at her, confusion etched onto your face.
“You’re having a panic attack, you need to sit down, okay?”
You nodded, following her words as you slumped down on the ground, leaning against the wall. Feeling embarrassed that someone like her watched you spiral into this state, you tried to assure her that you were okay when you were clearly not.
“I’m fine-“
“No.” Jill’s voice suddenly turned stern as you gaze at her kneeling down in front of you. “I know how it feels and I’m not letting you go through this alone.” She spoke. Your vision began to get hazy as your thoughts jumbled with one another.
“Okay. Look at me, I’m going to teach you something and you have to follow me, okay?”
You could barely make out her face as your vision blurred, but her words echoed right into you. Your heart still hammering in your chest.
“You’re going to breathe with me. Inhale and exhale, alright?” Jill talked to you before inhaling and waiting for you.
Your nose scrunched as you tried your best to inhale. “Exhale.” She said, breathing out. You watched her before exhaling yourself.
“Now, I want you to count with me, one to five as you hold your breath, then we’re going to exhale, slowly, that’s okay with you?” Jill asked, keeping her eyes on you the whole time as you were disoriented.
All you could do was nod as your chest felt like it was being squeezed.
“Okay, inhale,” She commanded, you followed, inhaling through your nose, and closing your eyes as you held your breath for five seconds. “Now exhale, slowly.” She followed, exhaling with you after those five seconds. The two of you repeated the action until you were starting to get better, you felt your lungs expanding again.
When Jill noticed you weren’t struggling anymore, she felt proud of you as she smiled once you opened your eyes, looking at her. “Good?” She asks, putting a thumbs up.
You let out a chuckle, putting your own thumbs up. “Good.”
The two of you were stuck for almost half-an-hour, the two of you made the time useful to talk. Learning about the other and vice versa. But you felt shy about earlier.
“And then I said to him that we’d make a bet on who could catch the culprit the fastest and guess what? I did!” Jill muses, laughing. You laughed with her, but you took a second to glance at her as she sat beside you.
“Jill,” You finally uttered her name. She looks at you with her eyebrows raised “Thank you, for earlier… I thought I was about to lose it.”
She lets out another one of her genuine smiles at you, making you feel easy. “Don’t mention it, I’m glad you’re okay.”
When the doors had finally opened, you and Jill stood up as you grabbed your bag. “You guys alright?” The doors opened to a few maintenance personnel inspecting the two of you. You gave a slight nod. “We’re good.” Jill said.
Thankfully you could make it out with just a step as you were finally out of the elevator, breathing out in relief. Jill followed, checking her phone. “Huh, seems like the meeting got cancelled.” Jill said.
“Good thing is you get to go home now, right?” You joked with her, feeling at ease with her company.
“I could, but I still have to get something to eat,” she says, checking the time, her finger lingering on the power button. She breathes out, stuffing it in her pocket before looking at you.
“Since the meeting’s cancelled and I get to go home anyways, you want to grab something to eat?” Jill suggested, taking her shot at becoming close with you.
You, however, had already taken a liking to her, so who were you to refuse?
Giving her a nod, you smile. “Why not? You could tell me more about your cool missions.”
With that, she absolutely looked ecstatic at your approval. “Great! I know a place not too far from here…”
#jill valentine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine x you#jill valentine x y/n#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine imagines#jill valentine one shot#resident evil#resident evil x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x reader#resident evil one shot#re3 jill#resident evil jill#resident evil imagine#re3#re3 nemesis#x reader#fanfiction#imagines#refiwrites
119 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is requesting Jill x Nemesis T-Type Reader ok like they meet and the reader is a weak version of the Tyrant but alot nicer and develops a curse on her, sorry if this one is weird.
Hi, thanks for the request! And it’s totally okay, I actually like writing something more exceptionally! I also hope, that I wrote this after what you’ve imagined, so enjoy reading :)) I’m sorry btw for how long this took me, i was taking a quite long break and i apologize this is kinda short
Nothing like him || Jill Valentine x female/non-male reader
Warnings: nemesis alike reader, slight cursing, fluff
(remind me if I missed any)
- Resident evil 3 masterlist link -
Y/N’s pov:
I walked down the street, lost in my thoughts. This city is a total mess and I don’t know how all of this happened. I was used in of the umbrella academy’s projects, but it didn’t work out like they wanted it to.
I also have no idea where I’m going right now, till I heard someone shout something, standing right in front of me. “Don’t you dare, coming any closer!”
My eyes moved up from the ground, landing on a attractive woman. I even did what she told me to do, lifting my hands slightly up. I gave her a confused look, before deciding to talk myself.
“Listen, I know you can’t trust anyone you meet in this apocalypse, especially because I may look a little different, but I’m not a threat.”
She scanned my whole body, still having her gun pointed at me. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Y/N. You probably know of the Umbrella Academy? They used me for one of their disgusting experiments. That’s the reason why I look not so much human like you do.”
That’s the truth. I got much taller than before, actually taller than anyone else, just like Nemesis. I may look a bit terrifying to someone, also due to the fact, that I got much more muscular, but also not “normal”.
“Do you mind telling me your name?”, I asked, in the nicest way possible, so she won’t just leave or even worse put a bullet through my head. “My name’s Jill… I was already attacked by a big guy. You must know more about him.”
“Fuck. He must be Nemesis. He’s just as tall as I am but much more terrifying and dangerous. He supposedly wanders through the whole city and must still be somewhere around here”
Jill had a terrified look plastered all over her pretty face and i couldn’t help but get kinda lost by staring at her. She must have noticed me zoning out tho, “are you okay, Y/N?”
“Oh! Yes, i’m fine. But i think we should get going, you also would be better off sticking by my side, by the way. A little help is very much needed, no? You’re probably short on bullets anyway.”, i told her, as she caught up with me, now walking right beside me.
“You’re right, how did you know though?”, Jill asked while tilting up her head a little to look at me. I stared down at her, but quickly tried to avoid staring holes into her eyes. “It was just a guess, you know. It’s quite obvious after all.”
It was a long silence between us but it wasn’t awkward. I assured her, i would bring us somewhere safe for now and she seems to trust me. Jill’s the first person, that i met on my journey, who didn’t try to kill me, instead she was down to listen to me and now she’s not scared of me anymore.
My mind told me she was still unsure of this all and my whole being, she didn’t ask nothing much and i know many questions were flowing through her head, if only she would just ask.
“Okay Jill. We’re here.”, i spoke up after awhile and jogged up to the entrance of an abandoned hospital. “Didn’t take as long as i expected, are you positive however, that this is really not filling over with infected and all?”
“I know this place enough for that. Just trust me once more, alright?”, i opened the door and let her in first, before i shut and locked the doors behind us. She looked around the whole place and was very much assured for the moment. I heard her footsteps, assuming she’s finally stepping around.
“Doesn’t seem bad, huh?”. Jill spun around to face me and nodded her head, “It’s definitely a place to stay.”
We barricaded the doors a lot more with everything possible we could find, making sure not a single soul can enter. We can defend us in any case though, we’re pretty good equipped with weapons. Not even low on bullets anymore.
I finished treating and fixing up my fresh wound from earlier so that i can finally relax for a bit. I found Jill sitting down on the floor and leaning against a wall. She seemed to be confused on something and i decided to join her.
“What’s bothering you, Jill?”. My voice caught her by surprise, but she smiled softly at me, when she saw me standing there. “It’s nothing honestly, maybe i just need some company.”, she laughed and was delighted when i sat beside her.
Our body’s now very close to each other, i could even hear her breathing. The hospital is quiet, i could’ve sworn she was able to hear my heartbeat, that was going crazy only by just admiring her.
“I mean, you have me.”, i let out a nervous chuckle and noticed the change of the look in her eyes. They suddenly shined so differently and it couldn’t just be the light, but she quickly looked away after giving me one of what seemed to be her usual smiles.
I don’t know why, but i still couldn’t take my eyes away from her and she must’ve felt my gaze on her as she locked eyes with me again, i even saw them lowering to my lips once. I wasn’t paranoid, that’s for sure.
Jill has been moving slowly closer to me, placing a hand on one of my thighs. Her touch on my nearly exposed skin heated up my body to the point i felt my cheeks flushing.
Her face wasn’t far away from mine, our eye contact never broke apart and our lips were almost touching. “May i kiss you, Y/N? Or is this too early for-“
I knew what she was going to say and i couldn’t help but interrupt her by pressing my lips against hers. It’s like they were made to be put together, as much as they fit, my lips moved so smoothly on her soft ones.
The kiss didn’t last so long though, we’ve known each other for only a few hours after all. It’s just like we get along so well, i don’t think this would fuck any relationship we have up anyways, in this case. And who knows if we survive this and what has become out of this town.
“Uh ha, i think we should get some rest, no?”, i spoke in a calming voice, getting an agreement in return from Jill, who still had a big grin on her face.
____________________________________________
The next morning i woke up from weird noises, as my eyes shot open, thinking of the worst scenarios possible. I got up from the hospital bed, i slept on, seeing Jill isn’t laying on hers anymore, so i started searching from where the sounds are coming from.
Once i came closer to the place, i realized it has most definitely been Jill, who made those noises. I heard her groaning and complaining, like if she was in pain.
I sped up my walking and jogged to the room she must be in. I slowly opened the door, peeking through the small gap, grasping in the situation right in front of me.
There she was standing, her hand gripping her head, while the other one was holding onto her stomach. Her coughing got louder on top of that, which made it obvious that she’s sick. But what kind of sick?
I decided to make my way over to her, asking what’s wrong with her. “Jill? What happened to you?” Her head spun in my direction, a worried look in her eyes. She was gritting her teeth, before finally responding to me.
“I-I’m afraid i got it in me.”, her words almost coming out in a whisper. “You mean… you mean the curse?” She only nodded her head, hitching in pain again, as she almost fell down on the floor.
I luckily grabbed her in my arms, taking a closer glance at her state. She couldn’t have been bit, right? Thousands thoughts were coming in my mind at the same time, as i couldn’t make any of this up nor believe this is just happening.
My eyes went wide, thinking of yesterday. I gulped real hard, shaking my head. “No… no no no.”, i muttered to myself, as i came to conclusion.
Did I put the curse on her?
#resident evil#resident evil 3#resident evil 3 remake#resident evil remake#resident evil imagines#resident evil one shot#resident evil au#resident evil fandom#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil fic#resident evil fluff#resident evil game#resident evil x you#resident evil x reader#resident evil nemesis#jill valentine#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine x reader#jill x reader#jill resident evil#resident evil jill#jill valentine x you#x female reader
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! What RE characters are you writing for?
Hi! Right now, my list is:
RE Men:
Leon Kennedy
Chris Redfield
Luis Serra
Carlos Oliveira
Ethan Winters
Albert Wesker
RE Women:
Jill Valentine
Claire Redfield
Rebecca Chambers
Ada Wong
I'm willing to add more if they're requested enough! Some of the chaaracters I'm still learning about/figuring out how to write for so if they ever seem awkward that's why! Feel free to ask for a specific character if you don't see the one you want here!
#resident evil imagine#resident evil x reader#luis serra x reader#luis serra imagine#luis sera x reader#luis sera imagine#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x reader#chris redfield imagine#chris redfield x reader#claire redfield imagine#claire redfield x reader#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine imagine#ada wong imagine#ada wong x reader#ethan winters iamgine#ethan winters x reader#albert wesker imagine#albert wesker x reader#carlos oliveira imagine#carlos oliveira x reader#rebecca chambers imagine#rebecca chambers x reader
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART ONE !
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 5.7k.
content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.
──── Rain.
It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.
The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?
With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.
You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.
You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.
Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.
The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.
The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.
You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.
"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.
You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.
Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.
You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!
The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.
The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.
But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.
"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.
You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.
"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.
You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.
You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.
All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.
The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?
"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.
"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.
"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.
Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.
Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.
A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.
Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.
With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.
You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.
Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.
However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.
That is until you came along.
Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.
Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.
"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.
"Why not?"
"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.
The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.
You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?
The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.
The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.
Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.
With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.
With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.
"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.
Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.
"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.
Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.
You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.
You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.
With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.
Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.
You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.
Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.
He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.
The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.
You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING
I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞
not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.
#resident evil#leon kennedy#ada wong#jill valentine#carlos oliveira#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#ada wong x reader#jill valentine x reader#carlos oliveira x reader#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#ada wong imagine#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveira imagine#yandere leon kennedy#yandere ada wong#yandere jill valentine#yandere carlos oliveira#moonfairy#yandere resident evil#yandere#gn reader#gender neutral reader#Spotify
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
May I request cuddles 👉👈🥺
you didn’t specify which character so i’m assuming you mean for Wesker but i’m also going to add Jill, Chris, and Sheva >:3 bc i am gay and love them
Albert Wesker
-he’s a fuckin stubborn shit head.
-asshole
-he’s so baby girl
-he’s a busy man so i feel like the most cuddles you’re going to get is by sitting in his lap at his desk while he does paper work
-sit on his lap chest to chest with your thighs straddling him your legs tucked underneath you
-be prepared for your legs to go numb and your hips to cramp cuz he probably won’t let you leave
-his hand he’s not using to write he’s got wrapped around the small of your back. just holding you close to him as he writes
-when he does have free time tho he loves to either lay on you or have you lay on him.
-if feel like he’s not a massive fan of spooning? idk
-google says he weighs about 198lbs so him laying on you is like. peak compression.
-please run your fingers through his hair please please please scratch his scalp he will start to purr
-if you lay on him he’ll also purr too
-don’t be scared to crush him the man can take an RPG explosion to the face he won’t be crushed by your weight i promise
-loves to just hold you close. feeling your body against his makes his heart stir.
Jill Valentine
-please hold her.
-hold her gently yet firm
-she loves to melt in your arms. just as soon as she gets home from work she wants a hug and a kiss
-she’s a tough woman but she’s been through a lot and she’s tired please play with her hair and massage her scalp
-rub her shoulders and her calves please
-the two of you trade off cooking most nights but on the nights you cook she’s got her arms around your waist and her chin on her shoulder if you’re short enough for that
-she seems to fully relax in your arms
-little spoon most nights but sometimes she wants to be a big spoon
-her favorite cuddling position is laying on your chest while you’re laying on your back. her arm wrapped around your waist with your arms around her
-please cuddle with her in a bath. draw her a hot bath with epson salt and a bath bomb.
-pamper her with soft kisses all over her face when she’s in your arms, she’ll melt and softly laugh
Chris Redfield
-i will not apologize for using this gif look at that spin flip damn
-HE GIVES THE BEST BIG BEAR HUGS EVER you can’t tell me otherwise
-big arms? big chest? big boobs? he’s perfect for cuddling.
-Teddy Bear
-he’s warm. if his big arms are wrapped around you y’all barely need a blanket cuz hes so warm
-his favorite way to cuddle is by the two of you facing each other and arms wrapped around one another
-loves to have your head in his chest
-he will also lay on you if you beg him too he’s actually scared of crushing you
-google says he weighs about 216lbs so he is kinda worried regardless of your size
-i bet he hugs you and picks you up and spins the two of y’all in a circle
-wanna spend time together while he’s working out? y’all might not be able to cuddle but he’s more than willing to bench press you or have you sit on his back while he does push ups
-on colder nights you bet this sap is sitting under a blanket with you in his lap watching a movie and drinking hot cocoa or another hot drink you like (or if you don’t like warm drinks he’ll just play with your hair)
-he has his moments where he just wants to be held by you too. please don’t deny him that, baby him all you want without pitying him and he’ll give you kisses
Sheva Alomar
-oh my gods marry me please i love you so much Sheva
-sorry
-I feel like Sheva would be a very tender woman
-she wants to hold you most of time time you cuddle
-and she’s very big on showing affection and cuddling with you
-her favorite cuddling position is sitting next to you on the couch, your legs draped over hers and your head on her shoulder, her arm around you pulling you close while you’re watching a show or movie
-she’s down for being any spoon, big or little, sometimes she just needs to be held and others she needs to hold you.
-expect her to kiss your forehead and cheek when she’s near you
-rub her back, please
-she loves it when you rub your hand up and down her spine and thighs
-not in a sexual way she just loves your skin on hers and it helps her relax into you
-sit on the counter and wipe her makeup off her face when she gets home and she’ll climb into bed with you
#tezi post#albert wesker#albert wesker x reader#wesker x reader#resident evil#wesker#resident evil x reader#resident evil imagine#albert wesker imagine#chris redfield imagine#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine x reader#resident evil jill valentine#jill valentine#sheva alomar#sheva alomar x reader#resident evil headcanons
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do something with a more protective jill valentine? like she just gets super jealous at anyone looking at the reader 😯
My girl
{Jill gets Jealous when her girl gets all the attention}
Hope this is okay lovely!! 💕
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
If looks could kill let’s just say the entirety of this bar would be practically empty because Jill has done nothing but shot death glares at almost everyone who even tried to flirt their way into a conversation with you. It made her skin crawl with jealousy every time anyone got a little too close.
She hated feeling like this along with the guilt that pinches at her heart, she wants you to enjoy yourself but the way they look at you with their hungry eyes, and how their hands brush against your arms, it drives her insane because you’re hers.
Her hand rests on the top of your thigh, squeezing ever so slightly, “Are you okay?” You ask with the sweetest tone she’s ever heard and it practically melts her heart.
You lean into her, “Yeah I’m alright sweetie” She smiles pressing a kiss to your temple, her hand soothing against your thigh.
The night goes on and her hand doesn’t move as you continue your conversation, giggling whatever you’re talking about, not that Jill is listening far too distracted by the way the other person leans into you, their shoulder bumping into yours.
Jill lets out a sigh once the other person finally leaves to go 'get a drink', “Are you ready to go home yet?” You ask taking her hand from your thigh as you bring it up to your lips pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
She looks at you with an earnest smile, “Was ready a while ago, sweet girl” she mumbles and you smirk at the very obvious annoyance that stains her tone.
“You should have told me, baby, we could’ve left ages ago” You giggle, brushing back some of her hair behind her ear and she doesn’t hesitate to lean into you, peppering kisses against your jaw.
“Let’s go before that fucker comes back” she whispers her lips grazing against your ear and the feeling sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but chuckle sweetly at the hate in her tone.
Jill hated to admit it but she was jealous, she was so insanely jealous of this random person in the bar who was all up in your personal space and she doesn’t want to spend another second here watching as you both get wrapped up in another hour-long conversation.
“Okay,” you smile as she takes your hand guiding you out of the busy bar as quickly as possible to avoid your ‘new best friend’.
It was colder out as the night passed and Jill hands you her coat, her arm wrapped around your waist as you both walk through the empty moonlit streets together with shared laughter.
“Hey! Wait up I forgot to give you my number!” Jill doesn’t know if she wants to punch the person in the face or throw up at how they clearly didn’t understand that you were taken.
So without really thinking she stops, tugging you into her body with haste as she presses her lips against yours in a hungry kiss, it takes you back a little but you soon relax into the warm feeling, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss and as soon as you catch on to what she’s doing you can’t stop the smile that sprays across your lips breaking the kiss.
Her hands are still against either side of your face and you look over Jill’s shoulder watching as the person from the bar walks away, well more so stomps away, and you giggle as she pulls you back into a kiss.
“Someone’s a little jealous” you chuckle as she playfully scoffs at you, her hands still against your warm face.
“You’re mine” she whispers against your lips, “All fucking mine baby” she presses one final kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I’m all yours Jill” you smile, taking her hand as you continue to walk down the street, making your way back to your shared apartment.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
#jill valentine x reader#re3 jill#jill valentine#jill valentine x you#jill x reader#jill valentine fluff#jill valentine fic#jill valentine drabble#jill valentine fanfic#jill valentine imagine#jill valentine one shot#re3 remake#resident evil x reader#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil drabble#resident evil imagines#resident evil fluff#resident evil fic#resident evil one shot#resident evil x you#resident evil 3#resident evil jill#wlw fanfic#wlw x reader
378 notes
·
View notes
Text
she’s my collar [ jill valentine ]
⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 05 [ leather // latex ]
⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, smut [ leather harnesses // collars, vaginal fingering, strap-ons, collar pulling ] + mature language
⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked
the moment you had entered your shared apartment, jill stood awkwardly in the doorway leading into your bedroom with a small smile, “i’ve got a surprise for you...” she utters, head nodding towards the interior of the bedroom before turning over her shoulder and heading further in.
you quickly discard your belongings, following right after her and stopping short the second your eyes drop to the box laid across the neatly tucked bedspread -- something jill must have done to calm her nerves of whatever she had planned for the night, “open it.” she utters with a simple smile, watching as you take a step forward and run the tips of your fingers along the top of the ribbon tied box.
with a deep sigh, you tug the ribbon loose from the perfect box, letting it fallaway before lifting the lid on the box. tissue paper crinkles loudly as it flutters around, before being pushed to the side and revealing the little gift jill had purchased for you.
you gasp lightly, eyes widening before your attention snaps to the woman standing just opposite of you with a beaming smile, “do you want to put it on for me?” she questions softly, giving you a chance to back away if need be, but the smooth leather harness and collar that lay before you is just too much to pass up. and you’re quickly gathering the items from the box and disappearing into the bathroom to get ready.
the second you’re out and backed against the mattress, jill’s eyes float over your newly exposed form, save for the leather collar, harness and thigh garters that hug you perfectly. she praises herself for picking something that looks so beautiful against your skin, and wonders why she hadn’t down something like this before.
you mewl softly as her fingers ghost along your sides, trailing up towards the little collar strap securely around your neck before looping a finger underneath and tugging you forward. your gasp of surprise muffled against her lips and tongue, leaving your body boneless as she quickly dominates your tongue with her own. before quickly releasing her hold on your collar and letting you fall back against the mattress once more.
“you look so pretty like this... maybe i should make you where this more often.” she coos above you, smirking when you huff and nod in agreement -- you’re lustfiled haze making you agree to just about anything at this point so long as you get to see the pride in jill’s face.
then, her fingers press against your exposed cunt, two fingers slipping through your already wet folds with ease. she smiles as your hips buck up into her hand, chasing over any little bit of touch you can seem to get before a firm hand presses against your hip in warning.
jill takes her time, soaking her fingers throughly and accidentally bumping your clit with each motion -- but not frequent enough in order to keep you on your toes. there's just something about the way your face scrunches up, and how your hands tighten into fists with each little ounce of pressure before she finally gives in.
a single finger slides into your cunt, before a second is added after seeing just how greedy your hole has sucked both in. there’s a chuckle of amusement on her end, but it falls right passed your ears as your only focus right now is the drag of jill’s fingers against your walls, and the pads of her fingers pressing against your sweet spot.
her pace was much slower than normal -- as she usually would have been fucking your fervently with her fingers until you came crying and gushing around her. only this was something you would have questioned, had it not been for the small bag laid beside her when you came trailing out of the bathroom in your full leather set -- oh no. this was only the beginning of the night, and she had other plans for you.
meaning, the second she felt you clench tightly around her fingers -- a clear sign that you were on the verge of coming, she withdrew her fingers from your cunt. making a show of sucking your juices from her fingers as you whined below her, only to be silenced with a simple raise of her brow, “be patient, sweetheart... we’re getting there.”
there’s a wave of warmth that overtakes you as jill leans back, grabbing the bag she had laid out before. eyes tracking each of her movements as she pulls out the harness and dildo, then as she slips the harness up the length of her thighs before settling it at her hips and tightening where needed.
she dips past you, rummaging through the beside drawer for the lube bottle before coming back into focus. the lube dribbles into her hands, coating them in a heavy slick before one moves to coat her cock and the other slips over your clit. you hum, whimpering as she draws tight circles on your clit until she feels that she’s adequately soaked her cock before settling between your spread legs.
the blunt head of her cock slips into your cunt easily, stretching you open as you let out a loud mewl. fists close around the bedding at your sides, eyes screwing shut as inch by inch jill’s cock slides into you. you clench around each bit, continuing to draw her in until she’s fully seated inside you -- filling and stretching you oh so deliciously.
she pauses for a moment, letting you adjust before drawing back to the tip and slamming right back into you. the air is punched from your lungs, and you gasp wildly as jill rocks her hips into you, pushing deeper into you with each thrust. her hands drop to either side of you as a way to stabilize herself as she fucks into you. strands of her hair are already sticking to her forehead, but she can’t bring herself to care in that moment -- as all she wants to do is see you come on her cock.
you’re already embarrassingly close to your first orgasm of the night, having already been built up once to a point where your body still hasn’t let go of the tension in your lower abdomen. you clench harshly around her cock, huffing out a mix between a huff and a moan as the head of her cock continues to prod at your sweet spot.
the final straw of your orgasm, is jill’s fingers slipping back under the collar, tugging you in close as she continues to rail you into oblivion, lips barely ghosting over your own as she mutters softly, “cum.”
and you do, thighs shaking violently as you cry out a breaths away from her. the hot wave of pleasure rolling over you as she fucks you through your orgasm. and only stopping when your hands weakly push at her chest.
her movements still, keen eyes looking you over as you work to catch your breath and she lets you fall back against the mattress. she gives you a moment to recoup, before she’s shooting you a mischievous smile and flipping you over onto your hands and knees.
a shocked sound falls from your lips as her hands slip under the strap of your waist and thigh harness, dragging back against the base of her cock before asking, “ready to go again?”
blog navigation ⇢ [ kinktober masterlist ]
#resident evil#resident evil x reader#resident evil imagine#jill valentine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine imagine#female!reader#twistnet#twistnet works 2022#twistnet :: kinktober 2022#tppkinktober2022
111 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yo! I was wondering if you could write something about Jill with a s/o who has autism? I love jill and I need her to comfort me during my meltdown! Make it as gay as you want
Fair warning, I don’t have autism myself but it is a part of my life. I just want to say that these aren’t my first-hand experiences and I can only write them from that viewpoint. Autism comes in a lot of different forms so I wanted to be conscious of that as best I could.
Warnings: Autism, Meltdowns, Dealing with Triggering Events (Sound, Light, Etc.), Feelings of Being Overwhelmed
Jill has no hesitating dealing with something that’s bothering you. If there’s something that’s bothering you sensory wise (light, sound, whatever it is), she does her best to remove it. She had no issue telling people to quiet down or helping you out of a store. People don’t tend to push back and she uses that to her advantage. She’ll take you somewhere to help decompress and get away from whatever was bothering you.
She’s very flexible when it comes to helping. If you’re someone who wants to be held she has no issue with that, rocking you or making sure that you feel the right kind of pressure. If you’re prefer that she doesn’t touch you, she’ll give you words of encouragement or just stay by you so you don’t feel alone. Jill will make space for you in public and shoo people off who get too interested; she’s not embarrassed to be with you and wants you to feel comfortable.
Jill’s not known for being a soft woman and normally she wears that as a badge of honor. With you, she wishes that she had more experience in being comforting. She does her best and the longer that you’re together, the better she gets at it. She has a variety of stim toys in her pockets and switches them out as she gets a better sense of what you enjoy.
The rest of the day you’re going to be spoiled. Jill wants to take care of anything that might need to be done. Running errands? She’s on that. Cooking dinner? Tell her what you want and it’s your baby. If you want her to sit back and let you take control of the day? Say no more and she’ll be your wonderful bodyguard girlfriend. Jill wants you to feel in control and cared for. She always wants feedback on how to help you better and incorporate any feedback you give her into her go to. You’re her partner and she’ll be damned if you don’t feel safe and protected with her.
#resident evil imagine#resident evil x reader#jill valentine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine imagine#autisum#autistic spectrum#autistic reader#resident evil
67 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
healthandcared
Health and Care
fixrcx-blog
; autoplay
thebutlerart
The Butler Art
thebutlerart
The Butler Art
the-my-world-in-pictures
My world in photos.