#jill's face in this lol

[spurgie-cousin]

if you've watched TV in the last 3 years you've probably seen ads for a non-profit organization called "He Gets Us". their ads, their website, all of their media claims they are not affiliated with any church or left/right political agenda, they're just out to promote the unconditional love of Jesus, appeal to the younger gens, yadda yadda yadda whatever.

But if you have any experience with American evangelical organizations like I do, you know they're notorious for this kind of baiting with unconditional love and acceptance only to push their agenda once they got their hooks in you so while I've always been suspish, I never cared enough to look into it until today and LOOK who is the biggest donor to this supposedly non-political organization:

HOBBY LOBBY???

you mean "we are the most shoplifter friendly store in America bc we think barcodes are the work of the devil" hobby lobby??? You mean the loudly anti-choice, anti-LGBTQ organization Hobby Lobby??? When I tell you I yelled......

And it would be just par for the evangelical course if this group's WHOLE THING wasn't supposed unconditional love and comminity, but they're being funded by one of the most politically hateful organizations in this country i just..........

It's ALWAYS political, being evangelical Christian is INHERENTLY political, and it's so fucking ironic bc Jesus Christ was supposed to be opposite and HE'S THE BASIS for their ENTIRE religion like...... just imagine fucking up such a simple concept, unconditional love for all people, so bad.

Also fuck hobby lobby SO goddamn much.

#sorry to go all Jill R with the caps but i am so mad lol #i was ranting to my husband and the look on his face was pure fear #he gets us #religion #evangelicism

[valenfield-inspo]

Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield - Resident Evil: Revelations Moodboard

#valenfield #jill x chris #chris x jill #moodboard #aesthetics #the real kicker of putting this together was looking up images thru google to fit “chris” being tied up in a chair #i was looking at male mannequins but nothing really fit what i was going for #so i went with muscular man with hands bound behind his back and the images that popped on google were something lol #i thought the tentacle/ kraken image there could go for the tentacle creature in the waters you face in the game #the quote there are lyrics from a song called “start a riot” by banners #another user had that song on a post for re5 but i felt it could fit revelations as well especially with the ship line #(that user is actually calcifiersplaceonao3 on here #check them out on ao3 when you get the chance) #my edits #crxjvr

[sumechiayuu]

My first love? Chased him all the way to Shikoku to kill him!

#Sumechiart #Toko Fukawa #Genocide Jack #Danganronpa #Danganronpa fanart #Danganronpa trigger happy havoc #Didnt draw the face cuz Im not good at drawing long tongues LOL #Toko is around 9-10 here #Genocide Jill

[iwanthermidnightz]

She’s so gorgeous I can’t even look at her face… cause look at her face 😍

#the sweetest face #lol good for Jill #and so it begins #you can’t help but love her

[theonlyadawong]

making that ada ref sheet was really helpful so now im making a claire ref sheet which im sure will be nice to have but i only drew claire for blacktober and other than right now i have never felt any real drive to draw her

#speakerphone! #its like. okay if thats what my hand wants to draw then ill do it but i dont really understand why? #would also like to make a leon ref sheet because i cant go on like this with him but i! dont want to draw him lol! #which suuuuuuuucks bc i have a comic of ada and leon and i. i dont even want to deal with his face #also i realized it was more involved than i want to do (it required more effort than i want to put in hehehe) #anyways. ada stealing from leon comic you will be finished one day. #would also like to draw my vision of jill (not going to do that) #and also chris (not going to do that) #really for the past few months ive been letting the spirit of ada wong guide my hand

[roseglazedlens]

Okay let's forget about all the agents Kennedy, alcohol and trauma in RC, Ada...ect,and turn to Leon s Kennedy as Your husband's policeman 36years is receiving a promotion to Chief Police Officer cuz I can't see my bbguy suffer more :(,you can add some nsfw if you want to

thank you for requesting lovely! i'm sorry i write so much angst hahhaha, but here is a change of pace! i've never written anything purely fluff (lol) and so many characters, so this is a challenge! i hope you enjoy!

⦑ take me home ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend's last day at work after his job promotion. content: pure fluff, established relationship, flirting, alcohol, leon is tipsy, but he's cute & not depressed ab it. claire, rebecca, jill & chris works in RPD. « 1 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

Today is an unusual sight for the usually hectic police department in Raccoon City. The office is adorned with balloons, garlands, and laughter, celebrating not just the promotion of a well-loved officer, Leon S. Kennedy, but also his farewell as he relocates to a new precinct.

You should be happy for your boyfriend – and you are – but part of you will miss watching over his figure from your desk, casting flirtatious grins back and forth in attempts to distract each other from the rigorous paperwork.

A banner suspends between the light fixtures, observing the lopsided words ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, strings twisted into the knot. The culprit of this handiwork, Chris, puffs out his chest proudly, while Rebecca looks at him in disbelief.

“Chris, leave the decorations to Rebecca, please.” You break apart the squabble forming between them. Rebecca smirks as Chris descends the ladder, defeated. “Don’t forget everyone, this is supposed to be a surprise.”

“Claire, where is the card?” You interrogate the next person in your line of sight, who happens to be Claire. All whilst you signal Rebecca to tilt the banner slightly upwards. “Has everyone signed?”

“Yep. It’s just you left.” She hands over the card, before resuming to the case files on her computer.

The card scrawls with heartfelt blessings from your team, a lot of ‘good lucks’, ‘we’ll miss you’, and nostalgia when he was just a rookie. He worked hard for ten years to be a sergeant, and you know he deserves this.

You pick up your pen – contemplating the words to express how amazing he is, how you will love him forever, how you will miss the sneaky make-out sessions in the work janitor’s closet.

…Marvin will be so proud of you. Yours, ....

The vibration in your pocket cuts you off mid-sentence – Jill. She is supposed to be on the case with Leon for another thirty minutes. You read the text out loud.

“I can't hold him back much longer, we're on our way. ETA in five minutes!!”

The floor scrambles in panic to finalise their positions. Rebecca quickly secures the banner with some tape. Claire is passing party poppers. Chris is putting away the ladder to the storeroom.

As Jill enters the space with Leon following behind, all the confetti releases at once.

The rainbow plastic ribbons catching in his hair like stardust in sand. You catch a glimpse of surprise in his reaction, following with a light on the corner of his lips.

“To Leon!” your team lifts their glasses high in the air, sipping beers and cocktails all night. Leon is the star tonight – you can barely talk to him without two other people buying him drinks all night along.

You catch him a whole two hours later in the circle booth, after some of the crowd has dispersed, his cheeks redden from the many drinks consumed all in a few hours. You squeeze yourself through three different people to sit yourself next to Leon.

“Having fun?” You try to get his attention by nudging at his forearm. “Don’t get too drunk though, I have to take you home.”

Leon lifts his gaze, when he sees you right by him, a grin tug at his face almost immediately. His cerulean eyes somehow more glazy than usual.

“Thank you for doing all of this. You are so good for me.” Despite the scent of beer merging with his breath, the grin on his face remains childlike. One that you only see in his drunkenness, which he lets down his guard to show more of his emotional side.

“Everyone helped. Not just me.” You are thinking how cute Leon looks when he’s drunk. “You are well-loved in here. I’m just the facilitator.”

“How about you work for me?” Leon brings the back of your palm to his lips. “I can pull some strings, now that I’m sergeant.”

“Sergeant Kennedy, using your influence for personal goals? It’s not even your first day.” You quip with a slight chuckle.

“And what if I am?” He peppers kisses from your palm to your fingers, the faint heat from his lips sizzle through your nerves. “Sure you’ll enjoy less time on the field, and more time in my office.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” You decide to let this banter go on a little further. “I expect to be well-compensated for my extra duties.”

“That will depend on your performance.” He raises a sassy eyebrow, pulling you closer until your noses touch.

“Good thing I always hit my KPI’s.”

“I do like a hardworking employee…”

Eyes fluttering shut slowly, you smile into the kiss. His lips lay gently on yours, sucking slightly at your cupid’s bow. Your bodies move closer, so close that you rests your hand on Leon’s thigh for support. The kiss deepens further, sloppier, tongues intertwined until…

“Ahem.” Chris clears his throat loudly, snapping you back to the present.

You open your eyes to find the whole table staring at the two of you. Your gaze finds its way to Jill, which she immediately, most awkwardly, rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if there is something to see there. Claire is nonchalant, sipping her beer and simply enjoying the scene.

You retract the tongue that is still shoved in Leon’s mouth. A hint of pink is running up your cheeks, you don’t need to see it to feel it. Leon, however, is unphased by the attention from his coworkers. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s knowing that he won’t be seeing these guys next Monday.

“So… next rounds on me. Who’s in?” Chris attempts to diffuse the awkwardness, which earns a few curt nods from the table.

Leon holds you by the hand, picking you up from the seat. “Sorry Chris, we’re gonna call it. It’s been a long night. Thanks for the party, everyone.”

You two shuffle past Chris and Jill out of the booth, after a round of hugs with everyone, you can practically feel Leon sprinting out the bar.

“How ‘bout we continue where we left off at my place?”

Your cheeks turn a deeper red. It seems like he will be the one to take you home tonight instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱ #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱ #chris redfield #rebecca chambers #claire redfield #jill valentine

[slxsherr]

Softer Than Shadow

pairing: charlie walker x fem!reader

summary: you make a better victim, so charlie rewrites his movie. jill doesn't have to know.

wc: 2239

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, underage drinking, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of drugs, hospital description, thigh riding, public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie

a/n: yo this one kinda actually has a plot?? forgot i could do that lol

When Kirby had invited everyone over to her house after Gale Weathers was attacked at Stab-A-Thon, you didn’t expect for the deadly night to continue. Robbie’s incessant worrying over possibly being arrested for simply hosting the event where the sheriff’s wife was attacked was only made worse after Trevor showed up uninvited. 

You’re the only one drunk enough to follow Robbie outside, not wanting to witness Charlie and Kirby flirt after Jill and Trevor separated themselves from the group, looking for evidence to find out who invited Trevor. Distracting yourself from what’s going on inside is easy, laughing at Robbie’s drunken attempts to get his stream going. You ignore the aching feeling in your chest when he tells his audience about Charlie and Kirby, downing the rest of your drink. 

Switching to a new school senior year is hard, but Kirby and her friends were nice enough to include you in their group. It just sucked that the only guy you were interested in was madly in love with someone else. You’re brought back to the moment when Robbie runs face first into a hanging plant, laughing cruelly at his pain. It’s not until you feel a knife stabbing through your left shoulder that you stop laughing. 

The cry you let out when Ghostface pulls the knife out is pathetic, and you quickly fall to your knees in pain, holding a hand over the bleeding wound. When you realize the killer left you to run after Robbie, you quickly rise to your feet and make your way around the house. You can hear footsteps following you, and you speed up, turning the corner to see Sidney, Jill, and Kirby all at the entryway.

“Run!” You yell, drawing their attention to you and the killer following behind you. 

Jill and Sidney run upstairs, but you follow Kirby further into her house, not trusting yourself and steps. Kirby tries calling 911 on the landline, but it’s dead and the line goes dead every time you try on her cell, having lost your own either in her couch or backyard. The two of you run into Sidney, who tells you she got through on her cell and that Jill should be safe. Kirby leads all three of you to a safe room in her house, locking the door behind her. 

“Kirby, let me in!” Charlie says, pounding on the glass of the door, smearing blood across the window panes. “No, no, no. I just found Robbie, this is his blood. Please!” He begs when Kirby hesitates to open the door. 

“If you can’t trust him, don’t open the door,” Sidney says, knowing exactly how Kirby feels.

“There is someone else out here, let me in! Oh, my God, let me in! Please!” He says, pounding harder on the glass, looking between Kirby and whoever else is outside. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Kirby says, backing away from the door, and you wish you could let him in, but before you can consider the option for too long Ghostface appears behind him. 

The three of you can only watch as Charlie is bound to a patio chair, Kirby’s ringtone blaring through the air as the killer calls from Charlie’s phone. Sidney leaves to find Jill, leaving you and Kirby to keep Ghostface on the phone while she’s gone. You can hear your own heart pounding in your ears as Kirby answers the horror movie trivia asked over the phone. Both of you panic when she answers a question wrong, but calm down when she’s offered another question. 

Kirby lists off answers before Ghostface can even finish the question, knowing she’d answered correctly when she’s met with silence. The two of you rush outside to undo Charlie’s bindings, ripping off the duct tape and spewing apologies. Quickly, you all make your way back inside the house, but stop abruptly when Kirby is stabbed in the stomach by a familiar figure in the darkness. Ghostface twists the knife, and all you can do is watch Kirby fall to the ground and follow Charlie as he leads you away. 

You don’t realize you’re back in the house until you run into Charlie’s back, eyes widening when you see blood seeping through his shirt. Sidney comes downstairs, and as the killer focuses on her you drag Charlie with you further into the house. You make it into the kitchen and open the pantry door so that the two of you could hide inside, but jump back when a bound Trevor falls onto the floor in front of you. Before you can even think to help him, you feel something hit your head, and everything goes black as you fall unconscious to the floor. 

The sound of sirens is what wakes you, but you’re barely able to register anything else as you’re lifted onto a stretcher. You’re in and out of consciousness the whole ride to the hospital, but only fully awake later that night. The hospital room is half-lit, machines tracking your vitals beeping, IV needle stuck in your hand, and a curtain dividing the room in two. Your heart rate spikes, alerting the other patient in the room that you’ve woken up. 

The curtain barely moves as Charlie approaches you, his own IV and machines following behind him, cooing at you as you begin to cry in an attempt to soothe you. You sit up fully, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face in his chest as you cry, unable to see the out of place smile stretching across his face. He holds you in his one-armed embrace, his left arm in a sling to relieve his wounded shoulder, happy that you seek comfort in him without question. 

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, you’re okay,” he says as you begin to calm down. “You’re safe,” he reassures you when you pull away from him. “Can I sit with you?” He asks, and you quickly nod and lift your blanket as you scoot over in your bed for him to join you. 

“What happened? I don’t remember anything after you were stabbed and I think I passed out from blood loss,” you ask, fiddling with the scratchy hospital blanket that covers both of your lower bodies nervously as you wait to find out who was behind the mask. 

“Well, it turns out Jill and Trevor were the ones killing everyone. Pulled a real Bonnie and Clyde on us,” he chuckles, trying to relieve some of the tension, earning only a weak smile from you. “Jill shot me, but Sidney stopped her, and I was able to stop Trevor from finishing you off too,” he lies, knowing he’d be the only one to know what really happened.

“You saved my life,” you say, staring at him in awe.

“I only did what anyone else would’ve done,” he says, feigning modesty.

“No, you saved me. Someone else would’ve just watched or saved themselves,” you say, guilt gnawing at you as you think of how you and Kirby could only watch as Charlie was tied up by Ghostface.

“Maybe, hey, why the long face?” He asks, seeing the remorse in your teary eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to cry again, hiding your face in his uninjured side. “I’m so sorry me and Kirby didn’t let you in, I’m sorry you got hurt protecting me,” you sob, your tears soaking through the thin hospital gown. 

“Shh, it’s okay. That doesn’t matter, we’re both alive and that’s all that matters, okay?” Charlie reassures you, his arm snaking around your waist as your sobs turn to sniffles. “Kirby’s with Sidney in the ICU. The doctors think they’ll both be waking up soon,” he says once you’ve calmed down again.

“Really?” You ask, surprised by the news. 

“Yeah, Dewey told me when he came by earlier,” he answers, unbothered by the news since neither of them knew the true extent of his involvement in the night’s events. 

“That’s good,” you say, beginning to separate yourself from Charlie’s side, now knowing the girl he’s in love with is still alive.”I’m sorry, did I hurt you? Are you okay?” You ask, seeing his face scrunch up in pain as you move away. 

“No, I’m fine. Painkillers are probably just wearing off,” he answers, shifting into a more comfortable position, moving closer to you in the small hospital bed. 

“I can call the nurse,” you offer, looking around for the remote.

“No, it’s fine. They should be coming by soon anyways,” he lies, knowing they won’t be checking in for another hour at least. 

Neither of you say anything for a moment, simply sit together in the silent room, beeping from the machines fading into the background. You’re not sure if it’s the medications, or the fact that you almost died, or if it’s because of how close you are to Charlie, but your mind is going haywire. Torn between wanting to scream, cry, and confess your feelings for him, feelings that have only intensified after finding out that he saved you, you unconsciously choose the latter, words already tumbling past your lips before you can stop them. 

“Charlie, I think I’m in love with you,” you say, blinking slowly at him. “Love is a bit much, actually. But I like you, a lot,” you say when his eyes widen in shock, lips parted as he tries to think of something to say. “I know you and Kirby have like, a thing, but I just wanted to tell you in case we almost die again.”

“Can I tell you something?” Charlie asks, finally saying something and you answer with a nod. “Me and Kirby really don’t have anything on, it’s just a running joke. I’ve actually been asking her for advice to ask you out,” he explains, looking away to feign embarrassment. 

“Oh,” is all you say, taking in the information. 

“Oh?” He prompts you, but you don’t say anything else. 

Instead, your gaze flickers from his lips to his eyes, and before you can overthink, you lean in to kiss him. His lips are chapped, and you’re sure yours are too, both of you dehydrated from running around all night. It’s fervent, stealing your breath away as he deepens the kiss, holding you close to him with his right arm. You feel dizzy, parting your lips to let him lick into your mouth, trying to match his energy. 

There’s only so much room on the small hospital bed, and you end up straddling Charlie’s thigh. The whimper you let out is barely muffled by his mouth when he forces you to sit, only the thin hospital gown separating your bare cunt from his leg. He’s moving you along his thigh, the friction stimulating your clit and soon you’re moving on your own, hip seeking pleasure as your hole begins to leak. He breaks the kiss, instead sucking and biting at the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you, focusing on your stifled moans that only he can hear.

“Charlie, the nurses–” you whisper, breathing heavily when Charlie interrupts you.

“Don’t worry about them, we’ll be quick,” he reassures you. 

Before you can reply, he’s reaching behind you to untie your gown, clumsily undoing the snap buttons on the sleeves to pull the offending fabric off, throwing it aside. He grabs your hand, spitting in your palm and wrapping your fingers around his length, guiding your hand’s movements as he fully hardens from your touch. It makes your stomach twist in want, watching the purple head leak pre and listening to his dulcet moans. 

Growing impatient, you straddle his hips, lining him up with your entrance and slowly sinking down until your ass meets his thighs. Thick cock stretching you out, you can only hold onto the hem of his hospital gown, not wanting to reopen any of his wounds. You move slowly, doing your best to hold back your noises, but Charlie lets his out without care, hand gripping your ass and moving you faster. 

“Wait– Charlie!” You squeal, his hips meeting yours, and you swear you can feel him in your guts. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, loving how you bite your lip and furrow your brow in an attempt to silence yourself. 

“Hah! Please, please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what for, feeling his thumb press roughly on your clit.

Your rhythm falters as he rubs circles on the sensitive nub, your orgasm building quickly. You screw your eyes shut tightly as you reach your peak, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you clench around him. Only whimpers fall past your lips, still holding back your noises in fear of the nurses, but Charlie’s cursing is barely hushed, rutting his hips up as finishes inside you, your walls milking him too tightly for him to pull out. 

He lets you slump against him, your head resting on his uninjured shoulder as your breathing slows, falling asleep on top of him. He’s not surprised you tired out so quickly, he hit your head pretty hard earlier. A content smile stretches across his face as he watches you doze in his arms peacefully, ignoring your injured shoulder, caused by his knife earlier in the night. He hated hurting you, and he hated to see you hurt, but if it meant he could have you like this, he could handle a few cuts and bruises. You are his perfect victim after all.

#charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x reader smut #charlie walker smut #charlie walker x you #charlie walker x y/n #charlie walker x y/n smut #charlie walker x you smut #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fic #charlie walker imagine #charlie walker #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader #scream smut #scream iv #scream 4

[repulsiveliquidation]

The White Suit || Jill Roord

based on that suit. good lord. save me. lock me up. anyway, it's just smut lol

warnings : mommy kink, swearing, aftercare, strap-on's, vibrators, oral sex.

“Lieveling, you really can’t make it?”

“I’m stuck in the airport, my love. My flight got canceled and there aren’t any flights to Heathrow till tomorrow.”

“I really wanted you to be here,” Jill says to you sadly.

“Me too baby, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get there tomorrow okay?”

Jill hangs up with tears in her eyes. It’s her first game back since her ACL injury and you had promised to be there to watch her take her place back on the pitch. She steps off the team bus in her suit and sulks the whole warmup, the rest of the girls feel bad for her when she tells them you couldn’t make it.

Little did she know that you managed to get a seat on the next flight out of Spain where you were. You still missed the game but hid out in her room after texting Leila to delay Jill and steal her spare key to get you into her room.

You changed quickly, Leila managing to drag Jill for some coffee before coming back to the hotel to give you some time to get ready. You pulled on a light blue lingerie set that was reminiscent of the Man City blue, thigh-highs pulled up nice and taut secured to your bottoms. Your harness lay waiting on the bed, an acceptable array of straps right beside it.

Your hair fell perfectly around your shoulders, skin soft and supple with every move you made. A light pink lipstick perfectly lathered on your lips. An aromatherapy machine gently spews lavender-scented mist, permeating the room. You smiled, towel laid out on the bed right in the middle ready for your night of celebrations.

Leila texted you that they were in the elevator up so you sat on the bed with your legs crossed waiting for Jill to walk in. You were a little nervous and there were butterflies in your stomach, hoping that Jill would be surprised and not upset.

“Leila, stop being so touchy I’m not going to leave this room till she comes tomorrow–baby?” Jill says in surprise, standing in the doorway in shock. Leila and Laia grin and cheer as they walk to their room, cackling away as Jill stutters.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see my baby,” you tell her and stand, sauntering over to her. She shuts the door behind her and drops her gear bag, her white suit a little crumpled on her shoulder. You tsk and stand in front of her a little too close to smooth out the wrinkles.

She stands with her jaw dropped and you close it for her, looking up at her beautiful eyes that slowly begin to gloss over. You fiddle with her lapels and smooth out the rest of the creases from her jacket, pressing your lips right on the collar of her jacket leaving a perfect lip stain.

Jill’s knees visibly buckle and she catches herself, muttering incoherently her apologies. You smile softly and cup her face, tilting your head in for a kiss. She meets you halfway and you smile into the kiss, her lips soft with a hint of coffee and caramel.

Jill moans when your tongue swipes her bottom lip and you slip your tongue into her mouth, exploring and dominating her tongue. You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her towards the bed, before fisting her lapels that were perfectly tailored for Jill.

You pull away and admire her outfit, her slightly damp hair draped perfectly on her shoulders and you gently adjust her necklaces and she whines, reaching to take her jacket off.

You tut and she looks down at you again, eyes full of expressive features. You take her hand and guide her in front of the bed where your harness sits. You nudge your head for her to take it and she does, helping you step into it. She secures the sides and you smile, cooing at her gently.

Jill eyes the array of dildos that sit perfectly straight on the bed. She sees her favorite, one that’s too big, one that’s too small, and one that she’s never seen before.

“May I pick one, Mommy?” Jill asks obediently, fidgeting with her vest.

You stand behind her and caress her arms, chin resting on the Dutch’s shoulder.

“Yes, you may angel. You get to pick because you won that game today and look so pretty in that suit hm?”

Jill nods and you frown a little. She catches a glimpse of your face in the window across from her and immediately corrects herself.

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“Good girl, Jill,” you praise, walking around the bed and onto it. Jill drags her fingers over the toys and predictably picks her favorite one. She picks it up and hands it to you.

“This one please, Mommy,” she says quietly, eyes meeting yours. She’s dazed and a little lust-hungry, shoulders sagging and knees about to buckle again. You pity her and decide that that’s enough teasing and take her toy of choice to put on.

It clips in securely and you have her sitting on the edge of the bed. You kiss her neck gently and shrug her jacket off, throwing it over to the chair in the corner. Jill shudders at the sudden cold air on her exposed skin, goosebumps littering her skin. You climb off the bed and stand over her, fiddling with the buttons on her vest.

You undid each one slowly, getting down to your knees with every pop of a button. Jill was breathing a little heavier now, leaning back on her elbows as she understood your intentions.

Once her vest was off, her pants were not far behind. She smiled a little drunkenly as you pulled them off, nails raking over her strong thighs. Jill shuddered again and smiled, throwing her head back.

You smiled and watch her relax into the premium bedding, her bare ass tense against the 400 thread count linen. You caress her tired muscles and kiss up her thighs, her knees parting way for you. You grin up at her and see a light blush on her cheeks, eyes hooded a little as her pussy throbs achingly between her legs.

“Where do you want me, babygirl?” you ask teasingly, perfectly manicured nails running through her wet pussy. Jill whines and hides behind her forearm, nodding softly.

“Words, you useless whore.”

“Anywhere, everywhere, just touch me Mommy please!” Jill cries, eyes filling with tears as your fingers along her pussy tug her folds just a little.

You lean in and lick her up her slit gently, tongue a little warmer than her folds that were exposed to the colder room. She jerks but keeps her ass planted on the bed obediently as your tongue fondles her peeking clit.

Jill bites her lip hard, eyes screwed shut tight. A slender finger pushes into her and her knees fold up onto the bed to ease your access. She moans and cants her hips down onto your finger slowly before your palm rests on her hip as a warning. You stand and slide another finger into her pussy and hover over her, eyes dark and voice deep.

“One more move that I don’t fucking ask for, I stop and you go to bed with nothing, do you understand me?”

“Yes Mommy,” she whines out, nodding her head profusely.

Her ass never leaves the bed and you grin proudly down at her when you feel a rush of arousal coat your fingers inside her.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes Mommy, feels so good when you touch me,” she answers, feeling a third finger push in beside the other two. Jill throws her head back and whines while her hips can’t resist one more cheeky grind.

You stop your fingers right on her sweet spot, having just decided to reward her for being a good girl when you feel her hips move when you told her not to. Your fingers pull out of her pussy and you get off the bed. You pull her to the middle of the bed and smile, kissing down her chest. She shifts nervously and smiles back, unsure if she’s messed up or not.

You reach up and under the pillow, pulling out a vibrator. It’s turned on immediately and your hands pull her legs wide open, lips right beside her ears.

“I told you not to move, princess.”

The wand head is pressed to her clit and she barely has time to process the transition into her punishment. The rush of pleasure goes straight to her head and down to her toes. She struggles to find something to hold on to, the sheets taut as she grasps them and pulls them tight.

“You getting close, darling?” you taunt, wand pressed harder on her clit. Jill grips your wrist and whimpers, nodding hard.

“Please Mommy,” Jill begs beautifully, “Please let me come.”

“No.”

Jill’s thighs which have been flexed to force blood toward her core dissipate the moment you pull the wand away. She cries out your name and her eyes begin to water, her pleasure dropping back to zero.

“What did you do wrong, sweetheart?” you ask softly, kissing down her bare chest. You suck bright red hickeys all over her chest, her lips struggling to form a sentence.

“Moved when you didn’t allow me to,” she manages, tears falling down the side of her face. You suck on her breast gently, hand bringing the toy back towards her core. It barely touches a bit of flesh, the light vibrations driving her crazy.

“What must you say so you can come, baby?”

She answers much more composed this time.

“I’m sorry Mommy, won’t happen again.”

“Good girl,” you whisper to her, the vibrator pressed hard against her clit. Jill cries out your name again and tries her best to stay still, eyes screwed shut again. She bites her lip and slowly smiles deliriously, a sign that she’s close.

You pull the vibrator away and give her no time to argue when your cock slips right into her dripping pussy. Jill gasps and looks up at you in shock, thighs shaking as your thrusts are powerful and precise.

You press the vibrator into her palm as your hips never falter, hands pressing her thighs wide open.

“Be a good girl and don’t move that off your clit unless I say so.”

She does as you say, shaky hands pressing the vibrator right on her clit, and her expression changes. You press her legs wider and pound into her pussy hard, feeling the vibrations fizz out into your strap-on and lightly onto your clit.

“Faster Mommy, I’m so close please!”

You fuck into her faster and suck on her breasts gently, helping her hold the toy right on her clit. Jill swears she sees white when she comes, eyes rolling as far as they go into her head. She shudders and jerks as she comes, toe curled up tight.

“Fuck!” she screams as you keep railing her into the mattress, the first orgasm fizzling out and the second fast approaching. Jill chants your name like a mantra and her hands shake too much to hold the vibrator on her clit. You lean back and pound up right into her sweet spot, holding the vibrator right on her sensitive clit.

“One more for me, darling,” you coo, throwing your head back as your pleasure slowly rises too. “Think you can give me one more pretty orgasm sweetheart?”

“Yes Mommy, it’s yours!”

Jill concentrates on your movements, her lust-driven focus solely on you. She feels the tug in the back of her belly button, the buildup of pressure just in her core. A hand wrapped around her neck and squeezes, that was all the triggers she needed. She barely had time to warn you she was coming, the sheer power of her orgasm pushes you out as she squirts all over your lower half. You watch in amazement, her legs shaking like a leaf as you fondle her clit fast. You pull away just as she reaches her tipping point, eyes zoned in on you.

She can barely remember most of what happened next. She was in a warm bath and lots of bubbles within ten minutes, wrapped in your arms under the soft lights of her hotel room bathroom. You’re kissing her ear when she properly comes to, smacking her lips and blinking her eyes.

“Hello gorgeous,” you whisper, hands caressing her arms. She snuggles back into you, eyes closing as the smell of her favorite lavender Epsom salt fills the air. She feels your arms around her and the warm water helps her aching muscles, tilting her head back to kiss you.

You pull a hand out of the water and cup her face, kissing her earnestly as she gently turns into your arms. Jill pulls away and smiles, rough hands doing their own exploration under the bubbly water.

“Did you come earlier, love?” she asks in her slight Dutch and English accent, she frowns when you shake your head.

“I was close but I didn’t come.”

“That’s not good,” Jill states matter-of-factly. Her hands drag down your soapy thighs, the water making the glide extremely easy. You lean back and let her have her fun, feeling the Dutch’s fingers dance over your clit.

“Just relax, I’ve got you,” Jill reassures, smiling when she feels your muscles relax into the fragrant water more. She rubs tight circles over your clit and you feel yourself getting close already. She tilts your head up and presses her lips to yours hard, fingers rubbing your clit faster and faster. You moan into her mouth and grip the edges of the bath. The water spills a little but you couldn’t care less. Jill sneaks two fingers into you and you cry out her name, coming hard on her fingers.

Jill smiles and cups your face for a kiss, feeling you melt into her arms. She pulls away, grinning from ear to ear.

“I should tell management to get us more suits huh?”

#jill roord #jill roord smut #jill roord imagine #jill roord x reader #man city women #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso one shot #woso smut

[lipglossanon]

Guess Who?

Puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (Valentine’s One Shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid au, Leon POV, soft boy Leon 🥺, slight dirty talk, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, knotting, slight breeding kink

Barely looked over ✌️ lol

title from Guess Who? by BB King

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!! 💜 this is me dropping a card in your decorated box to say I think you’re cute 😘

He notices all the sweet smelling candies and flowers on your last trip to the grocery store, but it didn’t really click that it was for the holiday coming up until your friend dropped off a silly card. 

Resting his head over your shoulder, he reads whatever made you laugh hard enough to draw his attention. You hum and reach back to scratch him behind the ears.

“What’s that?” He asks, pressing against you more firmly as his tail wags. 

“Ah, just a silly Valentine from Claire. She’ll be out with Rebecca and Jill later and stopped by to invite me along,” you move your hand to tuck the cardstock back into its envelope. 

“Oh,” he steps away, tail pausing mid-wag as he realizes he didn’t even get you anything and you’re going out!?

Turning, you give him an easy smile, “Don’t worry, I told her I already had plans. We’re going to watch movies tonight, right?”

He grins and wraps you up in a hug, “Uh huh. And you promised popcorn.”

Laughing, you ruffle his ears before cutting yourself off with a swear. 

“Dammit, that’s what I forgot to get,” you sigh and rub the bridge of your nose, “let me run to the store and grab some and when I get back we’ll cuddle on the couch.”

Leon nods quickly and follows on your heels as you walk to the entryway and slip on your shoes. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek before closing the front door and locking it. As soon as the lock clicks, Leon takes off to his room. He digs through his wardrobe and under the bed before completely demolishing his closet. 

Although he may have not gotten you something for Valentine’s per se, he did have something he’d been meaning to give you but always slips his mind. He found a pretty lavender bracelet that reminded him of you during one of the last farmer’s market expedition ( he knows it’s mainly an excursion in socializing him with strangers, but that’s neither here nor there). 

It’s cute and he thinks you’ll like it. Plus, he attached the very first tag you ever gave him onto it as well (just seeing his name engraved in simple cursive makes his tail wag). Spinning in place, he turns back to look over his destroyed room. Ignoring the complete mess he’s made, he roots around until he finds a piece of crumpled paper and a couple of pens. His ear cocks back and he turns his head to listen— the crunch of gravel signals your car pulling back up the house. 

Now on borrowed time, Leon turns the paper longways so he can quickly write out his message and encircle it with a heart. Tossing the pens into the mess on top of his dresser, he grabs the bracelet and beelines it straight to the kitchen. It’ll be the first place you head into after entering the house; making sure to set out the paper where you’ll see it, he sets the bracelet on top. Then, he ducks back around the doorframe on the opposite end so you won’t see him.

“Leon!” You call out as you open the front door. 

He makes himself stay put as you call for him again before shutting the front door. Listening with rapt attention, he holds his breath as you walk into the kitchen, setting the popcorn down as you notice his note. He watches as your fingers graze the paper, a big smile spreading across your face. Picking up the bracelet you slide it on your wrist and twist it back and forth to admire it before turning back to the paper. 

“You like it?” His voice comes out small as you jump and turn to face him. 

“I love it, Leon. You’re such a sweet boy,” you coo, holding out your arms for a hug. 

He chuffs happily and wraps you up into a bear hug, smothering your laugh into his chest. His rough tongue licks across your ear and jaw before he finally finds your smiling lips, kissing you messily while your hands grip onto his shoulders. Before he lets himself get carried away, he pulls back, dropping one last kiss on your cheek. 

“You wanna start the movie while I get the snacks ready?” You murmur, hands lightly petting the nape of his neck and making him shiver.

He stiffens against your thigh, cock filling out as his eyes dilate. 

“Miss owner,” he whines softly and you laugh. 

“Go on, we’ll snuggle up on the couch,” you kiss the vampire bite of freckles on his neck and pull away from his body heat. 

With a dazed pout, he makes his way back into the living room and dramatically collapses onto the couch. Even if you’re not there to see it, it’s the principle of the matter. After a few minutes, he smells a buttery aroma at the same time his ears pick up the sound of kernels popping. It’s not too long before you walk into the living room carrying drinks and a big bowl of popcorn. 

He helps you set the drinks down as you sit next to him. Once settled in, you flip through your watchlist and settle on a romcom you’ve been promising to watch with Leon since last week. He watches you out of the corner of his eye while he picks at the salty snack you’re holding in your lap. Halfway through the movie, you shift the empty bowl onto the coffee table and pause the movie to go wash your hands. 

Leon stretches his legs out until they’re tucked under the table, slumping into the couch cushions lazily as he waits for you. Coming  back into the room, you smile at his relaxed demeanor and sit back down next to him. 

You curl up into his side, head resting against his neck as one hand pets his ears slowly. His tail half wraps around your waist and shifts when you sigh against his skin. Your lips drop soft kisses up to his jaw and he tilts his head to meet the next one with a groan. He loves licking into your mouth; it feels so dirty and good. You moan against the muscle as he runs it across your gums and tongue. 

“Miss owner, please,” he pants out while you kiss back down his neck. 

“C’mon be a good boy and just watch the movie,” you tease, nipping at his jawline, “you’ve been bugging me to put it on for ages.”

He huffs, head lolling against the back of the couch as you press closer into his side, one hand delving under his shirt to tease across his nipples. Leon rocks his hips, cock tenting the joggers obscenely as your fingers feather over his sensitive buds. You pinch one gently and he groans, precum blurting from his tip and wetting his sweats. 

“So cute,” you nuzzle his collar bone, “wanna pull it out for me?”

“Yess,” he hisses under his breath, hands fumbling with the band until he’s able to push the loungewear down to pool at his calves. 

He hears you inhale as his dick bobs, flushed and thick, dripping precum all down his shaft. 

“Please, touch me,” he whispers against your temple, eyes fluttering shut when he feels your hand grip him softly. 

“S’good,” his tail thumps as your hand slowly strokes his dick from tip to base and back up, squeezing the head in your fist. 

Letting go, he whines and paws at your hips as you stand up. You shush him as you shuffle your own sweats and underwear off before straddling him. Sandwiching his cock against your cunt, the fat tip parts your slit until his cock notches against your drippy hole. His hands grip the fat of your ass as you sink down inch by torturous inch until you’re fully seated in his lap, dick being squeezed by your pussy walls.

“Miss owner, s’all wet ‘n soft inside,” Leon bares his teeth before whining as you tug on his ears, “pussy’s so good, so perfect.”

“Leon,” you gasp, knees digging into the couch next to him as you raise up to drop back down, letting gravity drive his cock up into your soaked cunt. 

“Such a good boy,” your voice drips like honey from your lips and his hips rock up, humping your pussy as pleasure shoots through his body. 

“Yeah?” A high reedy moan sticks in his throat, “I’m a good boy?”

“Oh the best, Leon, the best boy,” you gasp, eyes drooping when his cock grinds against the front of your cunt, rubbing across the spongy spot that makes you clamp down on him tighter. 

“So sweet,” you lean forward, arms bracing your body on the back of the couch, “so sweet to me, w’nna show you much I appreciate it.”

He grunts, the new angle letting him thrust up harder into your pussy, the loud wet sounds of his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt echoing in your living room. 

“My sweet pup,” you murmur against his lips and he can’t take anymore. 

Leon yanks you close and stands up to splay you out, back pressed down on the couch, with him buried between your thighs. His hips rabbit against yours, pelvis smacking your clit making you squeal and claw at his chest. With a huff, his rough tongue rasps across your panting mouth, tongue delving between your lips. You moan as spit fills your mouth while Leon fucks your cunt rough and deep. 

“Gonna cum, Leon,” you finally pull your head back enough to moan. 

“Already?” He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth before letting go with a pop. 

“Want my knot, pretty owner? Want me to give you my pups?”

You thrash underneath him, pussy clenching and pulsing around his cock at his words. 

“Please, Leon,” you wrap your legs around his waist, “knot me, wanna feel my good boy fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he growls, chest rumbling with the sound. 

He reaches between you and thumbs across your clit in slow firm circles. His dick feels like it’s in a vice as you bear down on him, back bowing with pleasure. 

“Leon, oh god,” you choke out a loud cry and press your head into the couch cushions, tears beading your waterline. 

He watches you fall apart while feeling your pussy squeeze and milk his cock, pressing himself deep until his knot sinks inside and locks him into your spasming hole. 

“So good little owner,” he sighs happily, tail wagging behind him while he pumps your tight cunt with load after load of sticky cum. 

You giggle, high on endorphins, and run your hands through his hair, eyes tracking his bracelet, “I love the gift, Leon.”

“Mmm, happy you do,” he kisses you on the cheek, nose snuffling against your skin, “Happy Valentine’s.”

“Happy Valentine’s, Leon.”

divider: saradika

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #hybrid au #hybrid!leon s kennedy #hybrid!leon kennedy #puppy!leon kennedy #puppy!leon s kennedy #puppy!leon s kennedy smut #puppy!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #puppy!leon #puppy!leon kennedy x fem!reader #valentines day

[bunnystalker]

haunting you - a. wesker x reader

you're a stripper and he's a scientist who's never felt the touch of another.

a/n; first wesker piece i've written in a whiiiile so i'm sorry if this is a little clunky!!

content warnings; set in 1998 before the mansion incident, jill moonlights as a bartender, virgin!wesker, stripper!reader (no set stripper name), wesker is in his late thirties (38), reader is 21, loss of virginity, brief dry-humping, sex (p in v), dirty talk, technically bottom/sub wesker, top/dom reader, this might be ooc (im rusty), light petplay (you call him a puppy and he almost creams), whiny wesker, slight condescension from the reader, not proofread as always lol

terms of endearment; darling, sweetheart, dear, puppy (wesker)

wc; 2.460k

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, one of many workers tonight who are less than strapped for cash not unlike yourself. Since you were legal, you’d made the choice, albeit degrading, to start stripping. That was three years ago. Now twenty-one, you’re less naive and smarter with your money, but still lacking financially. Not to mention, you’d been at this club for three years, why change that? No real job would take you if you told them what you’d been doing as a makeshift career anyway.

And so you stare. Your makeup is kept simple but alluring enough for most anyone to be drawn to you, but your outfit is the real showstopper. Strappy and black, you’re nearly naked, but you’re used to that by now. The usual pre-performance jitters have struck you once again, leaving you with cold feet and nerves that aren’t much warmer. Even in the back rooms, you can hear the bass-heavy music and high whistles of men vying for more of whomever’s attention. It’s enough to draw you from your shell and with a few deep breaths, you force yourself away from the vanity. The path to the stage is short, much to your chagrin, and the lights are hotter than hell when you step out to the shiny stage. While you get no cheering, you get your own special welcome of drunken customers whistling lowly and the occasional whoop. 

You know from experience that, while intoxicated, watching someone work the pole is hypnotic at the least. Your audience can hardly take their eyes off of you, rolling your body against the chromatic steel pole. It’s still warm from the previous dancer. Your anthem for tonight is seductive and slow, as most dancers’ songs are, and your face is the peak of seduction even as the inebriated crowd douses you with cash of all varieties.

After the dance, you’re slick with the slightest sheen of sweat. Nobody ever said dancing was easy, even the exotic kind. You walk to the bar, swaying your hips with every step. Despite the money you’d earned from your on-stage performance, you’re hounding for more. You refuse to leave with less than your month’s rent tonight. So you saunter to the bar, your sultry gaze scanning the sea of people carefully.

“A drink?” Jill, the bartender asks as you lean against the bar. She’s always liked you, so she slips you a free drink now and then.

“Please,” you nod softly and she smiles, ready to make your usual as a platinum-blonde man approaches you. He offers you no smile, just a somewhat menacing stare. You’d be scared if there wasn’t something so virginal about him. Otherwise handsome, with pale skin and blue eyes behind slightly dorky prescription glasses. Not to mention, he’s dressed in a suit.

“Lovely show,” he says with a somewhat nasally voice. Like clockwork, you smile and sip the cocktail Jill slides over to you. His lips twitch slightly at the corners- a smile by his terms in return.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Of course, dear.” He takes a seat on the stool beside you, flagging Jill over for a cocktail of his own. He seems confident, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s got money or because he’s talking to someone attractive. Your gaze remains steady on his face, although his trails much lower on you before flicking up to meet your eyes. Weird, you could’ve sworn they were blue just a moment ago…

“Do tell, darling,” he ghosts a pale, elegant hand over your shoulder, “how much would a few hours of privacy with you cost me?” 

Just looking at him, he seems like he has money. He reeks of crisp bills that can hardly fit in his overflowing wallet. Part of you wonders just how much you can get out of him. Your performance left you with roughly $360- not quite enough. Should you play your cards right, he could be your last customer for the night.

“Three hundred per hour.” You say with that same smile. He doesn’t flinch at the number like most men might. Then again, you get the feeling that he’s not like most men. He seems respectful, too- maybe you were wrong and he’s a regular, or maybe he doesn’t want to get kicked out. He nods and you finish your drink quickly. He does the same.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the back of the club where there’s less light and doors that lead to private rooms. If he were allowed to touch you, he’d offer you his arm.

-

You can always tell the experience level of men when they’re alone with you, away from friends whom they might try to fool with a hyper-masculine persona. This man- whose name you still don’t know- is similar to that. He grows a bit more fidgety, maybe out of impatience, and when he sits down on the plush velvet booth surrounding the stage, he struggles to stay still. He clears his throat quietly and looks away from you as you straddle him.

“So tell me,” you purr, cupping his jaw and guiding him to look at you in all your seductive glory. The way your hair is styled compliments your makeup, the curve of your pliant flesh between the straps of your skimpy bikini bottom that’s adorned with black gems, and your top decorated with those same gems. His cheeks heat up at the smooth sound of your voice, red tinging his alabaster cheeks. Nervous eyes trail up your body to meet your own, your heavy gaze inflicting arousal upon him. The heavy feeling pools in his gut, his cock twitching to life in his boxers.

“What’re you looking for? A lap dance? Something a little more?” It’s a little late to be asking that but you get the feeling he doesn’t mind. Even though you’re just hovering, you can feel a hint of the bulge in his pants.

He swallows thickly.

“What would a little more get me?” He asks quietly, his hands unsteadily hovering around your waist. Seeing such soft skin begging to be touched makes his mouth water. Little do you know- you might, given how anxious he seems to be- he’s had very few chances to touch someone as gorgeous as you. He’d taken none of those chances and to this day, remains a virgin. He’s not used to being so close to someone like you.

“Sex, sweetheart.” You rub his cheek with your thumb, resisting the urge to tease him into oblivion. Technically, soliciting sex is against club rules, but what your boss doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “Would that cost extra?” “Yeah, it would. You buying?”

“H-How much?”

“An extra three hundred.”

He rushes to grab his wallet from his pocket and dig out the three hundred. You smile as you take it from his trembling hand and tuck it into the waistband of your panties.

“Thank you…”

“Albert.”

“Thank you, Albert,” you settle your full weight onto his lap, really feeling the extent of his boner under your clothed cunt. He groans quietly, biting his bottom lip as he stares wantonly at you. A soft giggle escapes your throat, “just a few rules though.”

He gulps and nods, trying his hardest to pay attention in favor of rutting against your warm, inviting cunt like a dog in heat. You let go of his face.

“One; you cannot leave bruises- no hickeys, scratches, bitemarks, etcetera. Two; no kissing, I need my makeup to be perfect. Three; I’m in control and if you have a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace.” You give him a moment to voice any protests, but he’s quiet as a mouse.

“Fourth and finally, if you cum inside of me, you’re paying me an extra hundred per load. Do you consent to all these rules?”

“I do.”

“Good man,” you feel his cock throb at the praise. Albert sucks in a sharp breath as you slowly roll your hips, a shaky exhale following when you guide his hands to your waist. His hesitance feeds your confidence like fuel to a fire. He tips his head back, each movement against his clothed cock forcing a pathetic whine from the back of his throat. He bites his bottom lip hard and true to a virgin’s ways, his climax is approaching quickly. Sure, he’s masturbated before, but this is much different. You’re so pretty and wet, your dripping arousal soaking through the gusset of your panties. Watching him slowly come undone, the menacing facade melting into the mess he’s trying so hard not to be is satisfying. You’re relatively unphased, even as his cock bumps your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. He’s getting too close to cumming.

“I-I’m going to- Wait, please,” he grips your hips tight, making you still, “I need to be inside of you.” You nod softly and scoot back a little, allowing him to unzip his fly and shove his pre-cum stained boxers down so his cock stands free. Pale fading to pink at the tip, weeping with sticky, salty fluid- he’s long, about three fingers thick, and clean-shaven. He looks down at your hand as you grab his length, cooing quietly at him with faux sympathy and stroking him once, twice.

“Please,” his hands ball into fists with the effort of his restraint. Needy, half-lidded blues meet yours again, “please fuck me.” 

“Sure, sweetheart.” You chuckle softly and push your panties to the side, careful of the cash hooked on your waistband, and shuffle closer. He nearly cums the moment you lower yourself onto his achy length, his mouth dropping open. You wince slightly at the stretch- it’s on you for forgoing prep, but how can you deny him when he’s so pliant in your hands? His hands shoot our to grab your waist firmly, struggling to maintain what little composure he has left. Panting, his cheeks are bright red, and he can’t stop looking at you. 

He allows you a moment to adjust- though it’s mostly for himself to will himself to avoid cumming on the spot. You’re wet and warm, gummy walls surrounding his length perfectly. It’s even better when you start moving, rolling your hips smoothly. Hands on his shoulders, you keep yourself steady as you ride him. Soft moans fall from your lips, his cock brushing against your spongy g-spot deep within your velvetine walls. He’s all but whimpering, his perfectly aligned teeth digging hard into his pale pink lower lip so hard he might bleed.

He does once you lean forward and move faster, your face just inches from his. If you hadn’t set the rule of no kissing, he’d be pressing his lips to yours to hide his pathetic noises. 

“You know,” you murmur, locking his eyes to yours again, “you look kind of like a puppy.” His cock kicks inside of you at that, a stray moan slipping from his lips. He shouldn’t like that, really. He’s a scientist- a virologist to be more specific-, a professional, uptight man, and yet he’s acting so subserviently. It would be bothersome if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you and nearing his climax quickly. 

Panting, he struggles to restrain himself. He can’t help himself as he leans forward and wraps you in his (oddly) strong arms, burying his face into your neck to stave off his orgasm for just a little longer. The obscene squelch of your slick makes his head spin, each roll of your hips making him grunt or groan louder and louder until-

“C-Cumming- cumming-” he rasps, his pulsing length spilling hot, sticky seed deep within your gummy walls. The moan he lets out is downright shameful, his grip on you tightening exponentially.

You gasp quietly at how much he cums and how deep it is, nearly reaching your cervix. You pause for his sake, allowing him to relax against your soft body as he recovers from his high. In attempt to soothe him a little more, you rub his upper back. He grumbles and pushes himself against the back of the booth, huffing. His once-perfect hair has become a bit mussed, likely loosened due to the light sheen of sweat. He can’t seem to look at you as he slips another hundred into the waistband of your panties alongside the three other bills.

“Do you want to-” He gestures to you, still straddling him with his soft dick inside of you. Like a nice man, he wants you to finish, but you know you shouldn’t. It would likely increase the chances of you getting pregnant and you simply can’t have that, birth control implant be damned.

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head softly and get off of him, fixing your underwear as you turn away to give him privacy. He tucks himself in his boxers and zips his pants up before fishing for his now-thinner wallet, though it’s not completely empty yet. If you didn’t know better (and you don’t, he’s a stranger after all,) you’d think he gets off on this kind of thing- his wallet being drained.

Albert hands you three more hundreds and mumbles a quiet “thank you” for your services. It hasn’t even been an hour, but it’s not like he cares. Who wouldn’t want to give their money to someone as pretty as you?

He’s satisfied by the looks of things, his face less red now that he’s calmer and more composed. You take the money happily, watching him walk to the door with a smile on your lips.

“What’s your name, dear?” He looks at you over his shoulder.

“Come back soon and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Albert leaves with that, his dignity shattered and his pride dismantled. 

Weeks later and you’re at home sitting on your couch, watching the news late at night after one of your shifts. You’re barely paying attention, looking through missed calls on your motorola cd930 when you hear a familiar name come up on the missing persons list. The news anchor is reading off a list of names from the most recent tragedy- a mansion exploding in Arklay County, where supposedly some members of the local S.T.A.R.S team got trapped and barely made it out alive (so you’ve heard.)

“Albert Wesker, Joseph Frost, Richard Aiken, Edward Dewey…” The tired man drones on, listing off the rest of the names as pictures start to pop up. Only one face sticks out to you.

“No way,” you sit up straight and lean closer to your television, your eyes focused on Albert’s picture. Save for the sunglasses, that’s him. You’re shocked and honestly a little disheartened. 

In your dreams, you see him again.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ #albert wesker #resident evil #albert wesker x reader #resident evil fanfiction #writing #resident evil x reader #albert wesker fanfic #albert wesker x you #albert wesker smut #top!reader #stripper!reader

[hellfireghoul]

I've always hated that nickname - part 2

rookie!Leon x f!Reader

Summary: As the winter months fast approach, Y/N is still having a rough time and Leon is determined to cheer her up. The entire S.T.A.R.S team are invited to a staff Christmas party.

Warnings: Suggestive content. Reader has an asshole ex so if you're sensitive to that kind of thing, be warned. Only a small part of the fic. Alcohol mentioned, reader gets v drunk.

Word count: 5.2k

Read part 1 here.

Notes: I'm so bad at writing summaries lol but this is a straight continuation from the first part. Thank you all so much for the love on the first part! I love writing rookie Leon he's so cute. Enjoy! My requests are open.

taglist: @thelightofmylife

message me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

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This Monday morning was a particularly chilly one as you hurried through the police station to reach the office, you smiled at the receptionist on your way in, clutching your hot coffee in a death grip as you made your way upstairs. It wasn’t a day you were particularly looking forward to, knowing the sheer amount of filing that would have to be done today.

Things were somewhat back to normal. With being out of the office for the past few weeks, whether it due to serious issues happening in the city or due to your time off, it was pleasant to go back to the familiar feeling of routine. The incident in the city last week, that had had you and nearly every other S.T.A.R.S agent in the office stretched to the limit, had surmounted a horrendous amount of paperwork. Paperwork however, was something that eluded you. You despised it, despite the fact it was at least 60% of your job.

But another thought struck you as you made your way up the stairs, one that you couldn’t seem to shake and it made you almost giddy. Paperwork and office time meant more time seeing Leon. Leon was always really sweet when it came to helping you filing, he always lent a hand wherever he could and it really helped you out. Feeling decidedly brighter, you hurried through the corridors of R.P.D whilst clutching your scarf a little closer to your chest, the station being converted from an old museum didn’t leave much room for heat retention.

“Morning.” You smiled as you entered the S.T.A.R.S office on the second floor, greeting every familiar face.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” Chris commented, an eyebrow slightly raised and his tone not matching your distinctly happier one.

“Am I?” You said, brushing off his comment as you slumped your bag down on your desk and turned on your computer.

“I’d say so. Any particular reason?” Chris pressed. You shrugged nonchalantly, placing your coffee down carefully before sitting yourself in your chair. You caught Leon’s eye from across the room, his piercing blue gaze watching you, giving you a small smile and you felt yourself flush a little. You grinned at him. You weren’t entirely sure where your sudden good mood had blossomed from (or weren’t willing to admit it to yourself) but you weren’t complaining, from how shitty you’d felt over the past week or so, this was a more than welcome change.

The morning went surprisingly fast all things considering, and it wasn’t until around 1pm you even noticed you were due for a break.

“Is that the time? You wanna get some lunch?” Jill asked, locking her computer screen and pushing herself away from her desk with a short sigh.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed as the two of you got to your feet, it wasn’t until you noticed another one of your colleagues pinning some sort of flyer to the notice board by the door when you stopped.

“What is that?” You said, eyeing the new addition to the notice board and reading carefully. “A Christmas party? Since when do we do Christmas parties?” You laughed quietly to yourself but you were overheard.

“We do now. Gotta boost morale, right?" Chris appeared from his office with a smirk, leaning closer to Jill in a way that was painfully obvious to everyone but the two of them. "So, can we expect the two of you to grace us with your presence?”

“Are we having it here?” You asked, the thought of that seemingly utterly unbearable.

“Pfft. Course not. Be breaking about a million rules if I let a bottle of booze past that door. No, the bar across the street, figured that would be the best place.” Chris informed you, and you nodded. At that moment, Leon approached the three of you.

“Hey, Leon. You’ve been quiet today.” You beamed, greeting him, and Leon’s chest once again swelled at hearing you use his name.

“Sorry, snowed under over there.” Leon smiled. You nodded for a second, before bursting out: “Oh! The Christmas party, you coming?”

“I didn’t know there was one.” Leon chuckled as you gesticulated towards the poster pinned to the board. It was like music to his ears hearing you this happy for once.

“When is it?” Leon questioned, and you hummed to yourself noticing that the flyer did not in fact have a date on it.

“Oh, this Friday. Dumb ass didn’t put the date on it.” Chris muttered, ripping the flyer from the board and scrunching it up in his fist, before retreating back to his office and sitting down, busying himself on his computer.

Leon seemed rooted to the spot, and you noticed him clutching some papers.

“Oh, did you need help with something?” You asked, softly.

“I was just gonna get this checked by the boss.” He murmured, eyeing Chris who seemed to be very invested in whatever he was aggressively typing out.

“You want me to take a look?”

“Nah, it’s good. You’re just about to go for lunch right? I’ll take it to him later.” Leon protested, but you weren’t having any of it.

“I’ll help you, it’s fine. Jill, you mind?” You asked, turning to your friend.

“No not at all! Honestly, I said I’d meet my Brad in fifteen.” Jill smiled as her hand reached for the doorknob. You feigned shock and offense, clutching your chest.

“Oh! So you were going to leave me anyway!” You gasped dramatically, causing Jill to roll her eyes before smiling and heading out the office with a quick 'Bye!'.

“Catch you later.” You called after her, and quickly set your bag down before following Leon to his desk at the end.

“You know, you really don’t have to help me. I feel bad you’re delaying your lunch.” Leon said, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

“Nonsense. I won’t hear anymore of it Rookie. What do you need help with?”

You stood leaning on his desk, hand on hip and Leon had to avert his eyes and focus hard on his blank computer screen in order to form words.

“I just needed some clarification on if I’m filing this correctly, it’s quite a bit of reading-“ Leon began, but you interrupted him by taking the file from him and hoisted yourself up on his desk, perching on the edge whilst you read. Leon couldn’t help but notice how your pencil skirt hugged your hips, and how your black tights stretched sheer around your plump thighs. His throat became dry once again.

Once you’d finished reading, you sat the papers down in front of Leon just beside you.

“That’s perfect. You’ve done a good job there Rookie.” You complimented, as you hopped back down off his desk and smoothed your skirt down.

“All good? No mistakes?”

“Nope. Absolutely perfect. Couldn’t do it better myself, and I mean it. I couldn’t do it better myself.” You uttered, and Leon chuckled whilst shaking his head.

“I doubt that.” He muttered under his breath, so quietly you didn’t hear.

“So, lunch?�� You proposed, and Leon looked up at you with doting eyes.

“Err- sure. Yeah. I’m starving.” Leon hesitated before returning your smile, and throwing his coat over his uniform. You lead the way out of the office, Leon just behind and the two of you headed down the street for lunch.

This was something new, something unexplored. Just you and Leon, not in the station together. It seemed like the most mundane thing in the world as you joined him on the short walk to the cafe on the corner, but yet, your tummy filled with butterflies when your hands brushed together for a second. Or when he insisted you walk on the inside of the pavement away from the road. A warm feeling was lingering in your stomach, and as smiley as you were today, you weren’t sure you were ready to welcome that yet.

The two of you entered the cafe, the warmth engulfing you as Leon held the door open for you and allowed you in first. It was strange being in here with company for Leon, he usually only came here to grab you your favourite coffee and sandwich, opting to find an alternative for himself (that usually being leftovers from the night before pre-packed.)

Of course, he knew your order off by heart by now. This shocked you when he asked if you wanted your “usual”, to which he reeled off your exact order and then proceeded to get it for you. Mildly horrified, you thrust into your purse for some cash to cover what he’d just paid for. He refused it, which you knew he would so you slipped it into his coat pocket when he wasn’t looking. Perks of being a specialised trained agent you supposed.

The two of you wandered back to the police station, goods in hand as the cafe was always too small and too busy to sit and eat in. The office was mildly quieter when you both returned, most of your fellow colleagues out on lunch or being dispatched on duty. You decided to join Leon at his desk, pulling up a spare chair and you sat cross legged as you ate. The two of you were having a great time, conversation and laughter flows naturally between the two of you. That was until you felt your mobile phone buzz in your pocket, and you frowned as you took it out to see a message from the last person you wanted to hear from.

I’m really sorry about last week. Let me make it up to you?

You stared at the screen for a second, anger rising from your stomach before you snapped your phone shut and shoved it back in your pocket.

“Sorry, you were saying?” You muttered, returning your attention back to Leon.

“You okay?” Leon asked, placing his coffee back on the desk after taking a sip.

“Yeah, fine. You were saying?” You repeated, your lips now forming a hard line that Leon couldn’t help but notice. He desperately wanted to ask what or who it was that kept putting you in a bad mood, dare he offer to go solve the problem for you. But despite his burning curiosity, Leon kept quiet. He respected your boundaries too much to pry, and he figured if you wanted to tell him, you would. You continued your earlier conversation and nothing was brought up about who text your phone.

-

You couldn’t help the nerves fluttering in your stomach as you made your way out of your apartment towards the bar for the staff Christmas party. I mean, God you saw these people every day, why the nerves now? You checked over your appearance before going inside in the window reflection, your hair was tied back in a high ponytail and your lips painted red, you figured it was festive. You weren’t in your usual work clothes, opting for a nice pair of figure hugging jeans, heels and a lightly sequined cowl neck tank top with a jacket. It was as dressy as you got.

You opened the door into the bar, and a wall of sound hit you. Of course with it being a Friday evening, it was packed.

Eyes scanning over the sea of people, you spotted a familiar dark haired man standing at the bar with a drink already in hand.

“Chris, hey! How’re you?” You called out as you approached. You were forcing your outgoing nature to emerge and it seemed to be working, thankfully.

“Y/N, hey! First rounds on me. What you having?” Chris asked, gleefully. You returned his smile, and asked for your usual of a whiskey and coke.

“A girl after that one’s heart.” Chris uttered, although loud enough to be heard over the chatter and music. He spoke casually and jerked his head in the direction to the right of him, before taking a sip of his own drink and you frowned.

“What?” You asked, and Chris just laughed to himself, leaning forwards slightly further over the bar so that Leon came directly into your view. He was sitting at a table chatting with Jill and Sarah from the case admin team. You felt your cheeks flush violently, at that moment the bartender pushed you a whiskey and coke in a small glass. You thanked them and took the glass in your hands, suddenly wanting to down it in one drink.

“It’s very obvious.” Chris said, simply, taking another sip.

“What? What is?” You practically hissed, as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other impatiently. “What’s my drink order got to do with anything?”

Suddenly, Chris shuffled to the side and turned as Leon approached. Leon noticed you instantly, and gave you a beaming smile before catching the bartender’s attention.

“Double whiskey and coke please.” Leon requested, and suddenly it clicked. You were furious at Chris’s implications, and your fury only blazed further at the smug look on his face as Leon grabbed his drink.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?” Leon greeted you, his blue eyes as bright as ever as they rested on you. It was odd to see him dressed in anything other than his RPD uniform. Tonight he was sporting a casual shirt and blue jeans, with a teal jacket over the top. He seemed confident. Probably the alcohol you thought, in retrospect.

“Hey Leon.” You smiled back but it was half-hearted as you were slightly flustered, you shot Chris a look before slipping round him to join Leon, heading back to Jill and Sarah who were sitting in the corner.

“You’re welcome for the drink, don’t have too much fun with the rookie.” Chris called after you, and you stopped quickly, retreating a few steps and you pressed your mouth to your boss’s ear to ensure no one else could hear.

“You know, I hear Jill is very single. It’s also very obvious you’re obsessed with her. Would you like me to mention it to her? She is my best friend after all, she might want to know.”

Chris froze in his seat, and you grinned as you made your way back over to Leon who looked very confused.

“What was that about?” Leon laughed, glancing back at now a very stiff looking Chris. “Never seen the boss looking that scared.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

-

The night flew by as you sat amongst your co-workers. Others turned up as the night went on, and the racket coming from your table was quite frankly obscene. Chris didn’t mention a word about you and Leon for the rest of the night, and kept nervously eyeing you and then Jill as if trying to sus out if you’d spilled his little secret yet. In terms of drinks, you couldn’t remember how much you’d drunk. Or what you’d drunk. You knew it was bad, but you were thoroughly enjoying the buzz you had. Everything was funny, and everyone was so nice. Especially Leon. Leon was nicer than he’d ever been right now. He even smelled amazing. You’d never noticed this before. Had he always smelled this good? Any excuse to touch him or be close to him in your drunken state, you were taking.

You were sandwiched between Leon and Sarah, Brad and Jill opposite. In your fits of drunken giggles, you kept resting your hand on Leon’s thigh or leaning into him and whispering stupid things in his ear. It was driving him absolutely insane, your touches sobering him and putting him in a euphoric state simultaneously. He didn’t know how you were doing it, he was just utterly enamored with you.

As the night went on, a few people began to drop off and leave. The clock had just gone 1am, but you were blissfully unaware as you attempted to down yet another whiskey and coke. Leon intervened and passed you a water instead, to which you just pouted. He didn’t give in, finishing your whiskey himself so it wasn’t within reach anymore and you succumbed to reluctantly sipping your water.

You were clutching your stomach, laughing at something Jill had said that wasn’t nearly funny enough to warrant such a dramatic reaction, until you felt that familiar buzz of your phone again in your pocket. Groaning, you contorted yourself to fish around in your pocket to retrieve your phone. You flipped it open and groaned again loudly, your face screwing up in an almost caricature like way, and you seriously debated throwing your phone across the bar. You clung to the faint rational thoughts that were still lingering in there somewhere and kept hold of the device.

The phone screen was blurry, but you could clearly see the text on the screen. It was the guy you’d been seeing for the past six months before you broke things off a few weeks ago. You'd really, really liked him. He'd turned out to be a raging asshole and cheated on you. He’d been begging for a second chance from you for the last week or so, and it was getting too much. You knew what you could be like, and you didn’t want to give in to the temptation of familiarity and lingering feelings. You truly thought you were somewhat okay after finding out you’d been cheated on, opting to throw yourself back into the dating game almost immediately as a way of just moving past it. Not a great idea. Plus the fact that most men within a five mile radius seemed to be vastly immature and unbothered didn’t help.

Things hit a breaking point for you when you took sick leave the other week, another date went bad and it was definitely the straw that broke the camel's back. You’d had enough, feeling worthless and not strong enough to block your ex. It had been a vicious cycle and you’d had enough, needing a few days to yourself to recoup and collect your head. You were doing better, avoiding dating strangers all together but you still couldn’t bring yourself to block that number.

The text read:

I always knew you were a stuck up bitch. You were a pity fuck anyway.

You scoffed at your phone screen, earning a few glances from your co-workers, but you weren’t paying attention. You flipped your phone shut and immediately retreated from the table needing fresh air. You didn’t say a word, just clambered away and to the front of the bar, desperate to be outside and away. You went around the side of the bar, in a quieter alley, and sunk to the ground taking deep breaths, the alcohol hitting you hard in the cold winter air.

You laughed humourlessly, the words on the phone screen bouncing around your head like a banner. You whipped your phone back out again in fury, quickly unlocked it and returned to the offending text message. You read it again, and started chuckling this time in disbelief. With ease, you moved the button over to “block contact” and pressed “OK”. The message and everything else disappeared from your screen and you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, and you sunk back into the wall. You sat on the ground for a while, the cold air feeling nice on your face as you let the dizzy feeling engulf you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” A familiar voice interrupted your peace, but you weren’t complaining. It was the only voice you would be able to stomach hearing right now.

“Yeah. I’m good Leon” You murmured back.

“You say that an awful lot for a person who clearly… isn’t.. good.” He huffed the ending of his sentence as he came to join you on the pavement.

You opened your tired eyes briefly, lids still heavy as you chuckled softly and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Hi.” You said, eyes closed and smiling.

“Hi.” Leon chuckled, his chest swelling at the way you were resting against him. “So, you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Just.. stupid men.” You grumbled, your words almost slurred.

“Who do I need to knock out?”

“No one.” You laughed quietly.

“Seriously, Y/N, I’m worried about you. Have been worried about you. You’ve not been yourself for a while.”

You sighed, knowing he was right. A small part of your sober self has been wanting to tell him for weeks. Your drunk self definitely would.

“Leon, truthfully,” you sat up from his shoulder, your tired eyes meeting his.

“I’ve just had a shit time recently with dating. And it’s not just been bad dates it’s… well. My ex long story short, cheated on me and is now being really really shitty sending me texts, trying to “win me back". Although this last one actually was just straight up mean." You sighed, feeling relieved slightly to get this off your chest, you hadn’t told anyone about what’d been happening.

“Wait, seriously?” Leon scoffed, turning to look at you, you nodded weakly, closing your eyes slowly and returning your head back to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You deserve so much better than assholes like that. You deserve someone who will cherish you, take care of you and…” Leon trailed off, sober thoughts wedging a barrier between his slightly inebriated brain and his mouth.

“What? And what?” You almost whispered as you sat up from his shoulder once again, staring at the blonde man next to you, your thoughts in a jumbled mess. You couldn’t tell if you’re dizziness was due to the alcohol or from being this close to Leon. So close you could see every detail on his face. Leon opened his mouth again hesitantly, preparing to continue before someone rounded the corner.

“There you two are.” It was Jill, she was hugging herself against the biting cold as she stood staring at you both on the floor. “What are you doing down there? It’s freezing out.”

You and Leon both met Jill’s stare, she was distinctly fuzzy in your vision as you looked up at her. Your stomach flipped and you sighed, the alcohol really taking its toll now. You felt Leon’s hand move to your knee and give it a hard squeeze.

“We’re good, Jill. Thanks. I think Y/N’s ready for home.” Leon said, his hand never leaving your knee. The warmth was a pleasant contrast to the cool evening air. You nodded weakly at your friend, agreeing with Leon. Nothing sounded better than being wrapped up in the warmth right now.

“That’s all good. Want me to call you a cab?” Jill asked, her teeth jittering now.

“No, it’s fine, thanks. I’ll make sure she gets home safe, don’t worry.” Leon reassured Jill. “We’ll see you back in there to say bye to everyone.”

Seemingly satisfied you were okay, Jill nodded briefly and hurried back inside into the warmth. Leon turned back to you, you’d slumped your head back onto him in complete exhaustion.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

Leon helped you to your feet and steadied you as your entire world spun. He lead you back into the bar and the pair of you quickly said goodbye to everyone that remained. You got a few comments about your ‘early’ (as Chris called it) departure but you laughed it off. Bed was calling. Leon’s hand slowly made it’s way to the small of your back as he lead you back outside to wait for a cab to take you home.

Leon dialled through to the local taxi rank as you stood close beside him, confirming your address. You were shivering madly, not dissimilar to how Jill had been mere moments ago. The cold was getting under your skin now, your light jacket not doing much to aid you in keeping warm.

“Will you be okay by yourself?” Leon asked quietly, after he’d put the phone down. You looked at him for a moment, the thought lingering in your mind but you were afraid to propose it. He looked distracted momentarily, his brows knitting together and he suddenly started shrugging his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. The heat was glorious, it fitting over your shoulders just like you’d want and it smelled like him. You could’ve slept right then and there if you’d have been sitting.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, pulling the jacket round you, closer together. “And no, I - well I will be okay on my own but … I want -“ you sighed, taking a deep breath trying to collect yourself and your words as Leon’s eyes fixed on you.

“I want you to stay with me, would that be okay? I just don’t want to be alone.” You spoke very softly and quietly, almost embarrassed at your confession. Leon’s eyes immediately softened at your words, and he exhaled a short breath before saying: “Of course that’s okay.”

-

The taxi ride back to your apartment was a comfortable silence, Leon sat in the backseat with you and you almost fell asleep on him during the journey. You may have done at one point, who knows. Just being leant against him and engulfed in his scent and warmth relaxed you to a point you didn’t think was possible. Leon gave you a gentle nudge when the car pulled to a stop, waking you from your dazed state to let you know you were here. He helped you out of the car and into your apartment. You practically collapsed through the door in relief.

“Make yourself at home.” You slurred, heading straight for the couch and collapsing on it. Leon shrugged his coat off and hung it on the coat rack you had by your door, and he made his way into the open plan kitchen to search for a glass.

"Am I okay to grab water?" He asked, politely, eyeing your deflated frame on the couch.

"Whatever you need, help yourself." You mumbled. Leon nodded, and proceeded to fill a glass from the faucet and bring it to you. You smiled weakly, accepting it from him and taking a sip. Thanking him quietly, you adjusted yourself on the sofa and patted the cushion next to you, extending a silent invitation to the man standing in your living room. Leon accepted, easing himself down into the cushions.

"Why are you so nice to me Leon?" You blurted out, glass still in hand. Leon's expression faltered into one of surprise, just for a brief second, and then he smiled softly.

"I'm nice to everyone." He chuckled out, nervously. You considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. Now you thought about it, maybe he was nice to everyone. You did see him bringing coffee to Sarah the other day, maybe that was just his thing. He was the nice guy. Suddenly, an emotion overwhelmed you that you weren't expecting. It was like someone had started a fire in your belly, it was an unpleasant feeling. One your intoxicated self couldn't quite place. The possibility of Leon not being interested in you romantically, quite frankly hurt. And then it's like everything hit you all at once.

"Leon, what if I said I want you to be nice to me?" You muttered, your phrasing not quite coming across as you'd wanted. You took another sip of water in a feeble attempt to gain back some sobriety. You desperately wanted to have this conversation when you were sober but you both knew that wasn't going to happen.

Leon chuckled again at your remark, this time it was more genuine and less nervously fuelled.

"I'm always nice to you, Y/N. I think it's time we got you to bed."

"No," You grabbed Leon's arm as he began to shuffle to the edge of the couch to get up. "Leon I mean..." You trailed off, not wanting to say words you'd regret in the morning but they were coming out of your mouth before you'd even given it a second thought.

"Leon no I like you. I like you, like you."

"Oh..." Was all Leon could muster, he was stunned, his brain not quite processing your words and all he could do was let his gaze sink into yours. He was subconsciously leaning back towards you, and you grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him towards you and closing the gap. Your lips collided and you felt Leon relax immediately into the kiss, kissing you back with a level of passion and softness you don't think you'd ever experienced before. He tasted sweet and a hint of whiskey lingered on his tongue. You parted softly, catching your breath. That had done the trick in sobering you up slightly at least.

"Y/N... Listen," Leon began, and your heart immediately sank, expecting the worst to come out of his mouth. You let him continue, your throat tight. "You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying."

He began to pull away slightly. Leon had thought for a brief second that all of his dreams had come true. I mean it was you of all people. You, saying that you liked him back. You, pulling him in for a kiss. But there was no way someone as pretty and as kind as you could possibly be interested in someone like him. You were drunk, very drunk. Leon knew this, and there was no way on this Earth that you could mean what you were saying, in his eyes.

"What?" You breathed, attempting to pull him back again but he had shuffled too far out of reach and was now sitting right on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. "Leon. I know I'm drunk out of my mind right now but, you know what they say..." You placed your water on the table beside you and shuffled forward to sit directly next to him again, "Drunk words are sober thoughts. And I mean every word of what I just said. Some things are just easier to say when you're wasted." This earned you a small smile from him, and he looked at the floor briefly before meeting your eye again, his cheeks flushing pink.

"Now stop looking at me like that and kiss me again."

Leon didn't need to be told twice, he leaned in and cupped your face with his palm as he kissed you deeply, somehow more passionately than the first time. It was euphoric. It felt as if everything was falling into place and it just felt right. You felt positively stupid for even worrying about confessing your feelings mere moments ago.

Your eyes fluttered open as you both parted again, faces still inches apart and breathing heavy.

"Can I tell you something?" Leon breathed. You nodded.

"Of course." You whispered, prompting him.

"I've been wanting to do that since the minute I laid eyes on you."

Your eyes softened and you melted into his touch, his palm still resting on your cheek as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I didn't realise sooner, Rookie." You grinned as you spoke in almost a whisper, giggling at the nickname in your still slightly inebriated state. You pulled him in again for another kiss, but his hand pressed on your chest softly, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes immediately scanned his face, searching for what was wrong.

"Is this a bad time to mention, I've always hated that nickname?" Leon said in a low voice, a smile creeping on his lips, one which you matched as you shook your head and laughed softly.

Grabbing his shirt again, your lips connected perfectly with his. Your hands wandered into Leon's hair and you gave it a gentle tug, deepening the kiss and earning a low moan from him against your mouth that drove you insane. You straightened up, breaking away from his swollen lips for a second before you pushed him back onto the sofa, and swung your leg over his lap so that you were straddling him.

"Okay then, Leon." You said as you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it on the floor.

-

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #jill valentine #chris redfield

[weskin-time]

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

[babygirlmurdock]

Unexpected Connection

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to go to a singles event only for you to meet Hell’s Kitchen infamous lawyer.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: mild swearing, alcohol

a/n: heyyy lol so this is my First piece of fiction. i’m trying to get better at writing fiction and this actually came to me when something like this was actually brought up to me recently lol so i thought hey why not try to write something about it?

——————————————————————————

You’ve been single for quite some time now. Your last breakup was nasty, left your heart shredded; you weren’t too sure when you’d be truly ready to date again. Your friends have been helpful, pushing you to get out there and meet new people. Get your mind off your ex, y’know?

Swipe after swipe. Messages that are painfully one sided. Or men that just want to hook up or want something casual.

“Ooh, I just got this advertised to me on Instagram,” Jill says to you. Jill is a coworker turned friend. You perk up from your desk to see what she was talking about, “a meet and mingle this Saturday at the Refinary rooftop. We should definitely go!”

“Ugh, I just don’t know Jill. All men have done is just disappoint me and nothing has compared to Jam— ”,

“James. I know. But maybe the guy that is way better than James will be there. Your soulmate could be here and you would never know! C’mon it’ll be fun, I think. Plus meeting people in person is way better than on the apps,” she leans up against your desk. You worked as an editor at the New York Bulletin. It was an internship turned full time position after you graduated college. You dreamed of New York one day, and it still feels surreal that this is your reality.

You are sure your friends were tired of you sulking about James. It’s been well over 6 months and he’s probably already moved on while you’re stuck in this trench of dating.

“Okay. Fine. I hope there’s good drinks because Lord knows I’ll need that liquid confidence.” You scrubbed your face.

Jill squeals, “I’m so excited!! It starts at 7.”

——————————————————————————-

“Matt! It would be so fun, talking to beautiful women all night and who knows, maybe take one home!” Foggy hints to Matt about this meet and mingle.

“I’m really not in the cards to be dating right now, Foggy,” Matt says, shuffling through some papers. The mid-afternoon sun beamed through Matt’s office as Foggy stood in his doorway. Matt was trying to get through the last of this litigation before the end of the week and Foggy was not making this easier.

“This might be the opportunity that you meet someone who is actually normal! Not some psycho chick that almost got your ass expelled back in law school. That’s how long it’s been, Matt! Do you know how long ago law school was?” Matt lets out a small laugh at Foggy.

“Yes, Foggy. I was there, I know how long ago it was.”

He never understood why Foggy was so adamant on him meeting someone. Now that the firm is getting some business and he’s gone out more times than he can count as Daredevil, he just doesn’t have the time to commit.

“I’ll go only for an hour,” Matt sighs and Foggy lets out a cheer.

“You’re not gonna regret this, Murdock!”

————————————————————————

Saturday night rolls around. You and Jill are about to head to the singles event.

“I hope I meet someone rich,” Jill says, applying her lipstick. “I just don’t want to work again, y’know?”

“Tell me about it. I just hope nobody is too much of an asshole. I don’t know if I can take another person mansplaining what investing is and why I should do it,” You shouted from the bathroom, spraying some hairspray in your hair. You came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

“Whoa girl, what are you wearing? You can’t wear that!” Jill said from your living room.

You eye yourself in the mirror, “what is so wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?”

Jill says your name sternly, “everything? You might meet the love of your life! Show some more!”

“You’re ridiculous. You’re lucky I’m going to this in the first place! Would it make you happier if I changed my top?” You say, taking off your shirt to dig for something she deems more appropriate.

“Atta girl, show the goodies,” Jill says, shimmying her chest. “Uber is downstairs, let’s get going.”

——————————————————————————

You arrive at the venue and make your way upstairs to the roof. It was decorated with greenery and twinkle lights. The place was lit just enough to make it romantic but not where you couldn’t see anyone. Not even 15 minutes into the event, you lose Jill in the crowd already talking to people. You make your way to the bar to order yourself a drink.

“Dirty martini, gin, please. Thanks,” you stand at the bar while you wait for your drink and hear a smooth voice next to you.

“Whiskey, neat, please. Thank you,” you peer over and your eyes meet a beautiful man wearing red glasses. You take a moment to read him a little bit. Gorgeous side profile. Your eyes make their way down to his hands, and meet with a cane. Blind?

“Dirty martini & a whiskey neat.”

“Thank you,” you both say in unison. “I suppose we should cheers?” The man says to you.

“Oh, uh sure, cheers,” You clink your glass against his and a smile breaks out on his face as the glass meets his lips. God damn, this guy looks like the next coming of Christ. He was so unreal looking. He had the jaw sculpted by God himself, decorated with just the right amount of stubble, and his lips. They were so pink and full. The thoughts of kissing him already danced in your head. The faint smell of his cologne twirled around in your nostrils.

“So let me guess,” you take a sip from your drink, “your friend basically dragged you here too against your will even though you told them you were over dating?”

“Wow,” his eyebrows perked up as he took another sip, “how did you guess?” he says, sarcastically.

“Well, considering you look like that,” your hand vaguely gestured to his body, “and women aren’t at your beck and call, I had to assume.”

“Look like what? Oh God, did I forget to put on my pants? You’d tell me that I’m pant less right?” He says frantically, trying to hide his laughter.

“Ha ha, very funny. But was I right?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not too far off. It’s hard to do modern dating when everything is on dating apps and eyesight helps that. Phones can only be so accessible. I’m Matt by the way, Matt Murdock.” He sticks his hand out for you to grab. You give him your name as you shake his hand. You notice some bruising on the knuckles and wonder what that could be about.

“Wait like, the lawyer?”

Matt sheepishly nodded in agreement, “that would be me.”

“Where were you when I told a cop to fuck off because I didn’t like how he was speaking to my friend?” You take a big swig of your martini hoping the alcohol would hit you sooner rather than later.

“My law partner must’ve missed the call from the woman brave enough to tell a cop to fuck off,” Matt smirks at you. Butterflies erupt inside you and your heart beat jumps.

————————————————————————

As the night goes on, and after a couple more drinks, conversation between you and Matt flows effortlessly. You two made your way over to a couch to sit and talk. The crowd ebbed and flowed throughout the night. People left, more people showed up, but it never got too crowded. It honestly felt like you and Matt were alone, like the world stood still.

“So you mean to tell me he took your furniture outside?” You laugh at the thought of his college roommate moving all of Matt’s furniture outside.

“Yeah, it was kind of rude of him to do that to a blind guy. He thought it was hilarious though,” Matt smiles at you.

“You guys seemed wild in law school. I bet campus police weren't too thrilled with your shenanigans,” you rest your chin on your hand as you lean a bit closer to Matt.

“Foggy actually got into some trouble with them because he was breaking the school's disability rules. Nothing too major, he just had to volunteer as a part of campus police to pay his dues.”

You laugh at Matt, and briefly look around and notice you and Matt seemed to be two of the other five couples that are still there.

“So, I have a question for you…” you trail off, debating on asking this question.

“No, I haven’t been blind my whole life,” Matt states.

“How did you know I was going to ask that?” your voice has an edge of surprise to it.

“It came in the pamphlet when I lost my vision. Don’t worry about it though, it doesn’t bother me when people ask,” Matt reassures you. “It’s been 20 years at this point.”

“Oh wow, so you had to adapt and relearn the world without your eyes. That’s insane, it must have been tough for you,” you rest your hand on Matt’s bicep. What business does he have to have this much of a defined arm?

“It took some adjusting but my other senses were…” Matt stops mid sentence before realizing what he was about to say.

“What? Like sensitive? I’m sure your other senses had to compensate now that your eyes were out of commission.”

“Yeah, you can say sensitive in a way,” Matt sighs. Silence falls between you both. You fiddle with your glass for a moment until he speaks up, “what do you say we get out of here?”

“Oh, um,” you look around in hopes of finding your friend because you’re still nervous about potentially going home with somebody new. No matter how gorgeous the man is. “I–“ you stammer.

“I don’t want to give the wrong intentions. What I mean is maybe go to another bar. There’s a place two blocks over that we can go to. If you’re up for it,” Matt gave you a small smile of reassurance.

You think for a moment, staring at his face while your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your body. What the hell, why not? “Sure, I’d like that,” you smile and get up. You let Matt grab onto your forearm for guidance as you walk to the bar to close out. After he graciously also paid for your tab, you walked with him to the elevator.

“What’s this place called? How do I know you’re not going to murder me? You are still a stranger by the way,” you ramble on. Matt laughs at your nervousness.

“It’s called Josie’s. I’ve been going here since I was in law school. And if I were going to murder you, I would have done it already,” Matt leans into you playfully.

“Ah yeah that makes me feel so much better, thank you, Matt,” you joke.

��————————————————————————

The walk to Josie’s is mostly silent, but not awkward. You feel at ease around Matt. His energy is soothing, it feels like you’ve known him for ages. He asked about your upbringing, what brought you to New York. Your typical “getting to know someone” questions.

As you approach the bar, your nerves dissipate as you recognize this is a dive bar. “You seem less tense,” Matt said to you, his hand lightly placed on the pulse point of your wrist.

“Yeah, I love a good dive bar. It’s charming in a way,” you breathe out, leading the way into the bar. You find a seat at the bar for you and Matt to sit. You look around the bar, and notice the pool table in the back. There were old beer signs all over the walls. The lighting was dim and moody. Classic rock was playing over the speakers. Matt must’ve waved down a bartender while you were distracted because two beers are placed in front of you as you sat down next to him.

“I love how you assumed I liked beer,” you tease, taking a sip from your bottle.

“I can order something else if you’d like me to,” Matt's voice breaks a bit.

“I like beer, don’t worry,” you reassured him, “so what are the odds a blind man knows how to play pool?”

“I’ve played. I can’t promise I’ll be any good.”

Your drinks start to hit you more as you speak, “Do you want to make a bet?”

“Betting against a blind man? Low blow,” Matt sucks his teeth teasing you a bit. You giggle, “Fair point, Matthew. Fair point. C’mon, do you need guidance to the table?”

“No thank you, I know this place like it’s my own home,” Matt smiled at you as you both made your way over to the pool table.

You rack up the balls and Matt grabs some cues. “Do you want to break the triangle?” Matt asks.

“Sure, why not,” You bend over, lining up the cue ball with the tip of the triangle. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel Matt’s gaze upon you. You know, for someone who is blind, you sure can feel like his eyes were all over your body. The loud crack of the ball break snaps you out of your train of thought. “Do you, um, do you need help lining up the cue?”

“Actually yes, that’d be helpful.”

You make your way to Matt’s side, telling him solids were his and what balls were lined up with which ones. To your shock, he nails two solids into the sink holes. “I’ll be damned. Blind man is good at pool.”

Matt’s voice is low and husky when he says, “there’s a lot of secrets about me,” which gives you full body chills.

“Well, okay then, I—” you stammer trying to collect your tipsy self. You take your shot and, “God damn it, missed. You’re not hustling me, are you? You said you weren’t good!” you protest.

“Ehh, lucky shot, I guess,” Matt laughs, taking a swig of his beer.

The round of pool goes at a good pace, flirty innuendos fly off the walls. At this point, Matt’s jacket is off and the sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up showing his forearms. Every passing hour, you feel more and more attracted to him. And you only hope he feels the same.

“Alright, 8 ball is up. Absolutely no fucking way I’m about to lose a game of pool to a guy who can’t see,” you said competitively.

“Well to be fair, you have been helping me line the cues up, you could’ve hustled me and lined up with your balls.” He suggests with a shrug.

“God damn it, you’re so right. Holy shit why didn’t I think of that?!” You line the cue up to the ball and take your shot...and miss. You let out a gasp as you just lost this game of pool.

“That didn’t sound like a good gasp,” Matt teased.

“You’d be correct. Good game, Matt.”

“Good game,” he said your name back to you.

You looked at your watch and realized it was almost midnight. “It’s getting late, I think we should head out. That sound okay to you?” you say, even though you secretly don’t want this night to end.

“Yeah, do you want me to walk you home?” Matt asks you, with a shy smile secretly hoping you’d say yes.

“That’d be really lovely, thank you. I’m just 5 blocks up actually.”

————————————————————————

“Alright, this is me,” you halt in front of your building’s entrance.

“Are you sure it’s not up one more block?” He flashes you a cheeky smile.

“Unfortunately, it is not. I had a really good time tonight, Matt,” you step closer to him, inches away from his body.

“I had a really nice time tonight, too,” Matt’s voice just above a whisper. God, that register in his voice practically made you fall to your knees.

You and Matt are still standing dangerously close to each other as both of your body’s heats mingled together, practically begging for some physical touch. “I should, uh, get upstairs. Goodnight, Matt.” As you are about to turn away, Matt pulls you in closer as your chests nearly touch. Lips hovering over one another as your breath intertwines with his. Your brain is barely forming coherent thoughts, until you whisper, “I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

“I was waiting for the words,” Matt’s hand snakes up to gently rest on your jawbone as he tilts your head up. His lips meet yours with the tenderness and sweetness that you crave so desperately. He pulls away and you both sigh. “That was—”

“Really nice. You’re an excellent kisser by the way,” you let your inside thoughts exist on the outside now. “That was meant to stay inside my brain, oh my god….” You buried your face in your hands as you pulled away from his embrace.

Matt laughs, “I appreciate the compliment, thank you.”

“Let’s do this again, next week? You owe me a rematch in pool.”

“Next week sounds fantastic. If the pool game went anything like it did tonight, it won’t be much of a rematch,” Matt banters with you. You gasp at his remark which makes him laugh. “I’ll call you sometime this week to set something up, okay?”

“Do you mind if I put my number in your phone? I figure that’d be easiest maybe,” You suggest.

“Oh yeah, that’d be great,” Matt said pulling out his phone. You grabbed it and put your name and number in there and handed it back to him.

“Okay,” you smile at him, “I’ll be anticipating your call.”

“Goodnight,” Matt whispers your name, dripping from his lips like honey. You kiss his cheek and head upstairs. As you close the door, you squeal in excitement.

Matt stood outside your building for a moment, listening to it shut to ensure you made it in okay. As he was about to step away, he heard you squeal to yourself in excitement, which made him laugh to himself.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fic #no use of y/n

[greenteasnoothie]

A writer for RE! And requests are open! Sorry, I'm excited and sleep deprived lol, may I request with this prompt i found? "when you're the one they look at, even if they're at the other end of the room". What if (insert character) is the one looking at you and you wonder if you offended them or something because they look at you or watch you with a neutral or serious expression. But what you don't know is that they're trying to figure out why he can't stop looking at you. And those that know (insert character) know that the (insert character) is actually happy or smitten by reader. I don't know which RE character to choose because I like most of them 😅

“When you’re the one they look at, even if they’re at the other end of the room”

HI ANON THANKS FOR THE REQUEST!!! I decided I’m going to do two characters for this request because why not!

Parings: Leon X Gen!Reader, Wesker X Gen!Reader

♡ = time-skip

Genre: Fluff, maybe little tiny little bit of angst

Content mentioned:kissing, some swears,

Word count: Leon:445 Wesker:345

——————————————————————

Leon S Kennedy

It was like any other D.S.O meeting, talking about your next mission and OH MY GOD CAN LEON STOP STARING AT YOU?

The whole meeting Leon would not take his eyes off of you and not only that, his neutral expression is making you think he’s mad at you.

Thinking about everything and anything you have or could have done to pissed Leon off takes your attention for the whole meeting.

You Jump when Benford closes his folder particularly loud, ending the meeting and snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Gosh dammit,” Leon curses under his breath as he watches you quickly leave the room, it’s clear to him

that you noticed him staring. Leon rubs his face with his hand quickly sighing as he does so.

♡

You don’t see Leon for the rest of the day, making you think he really is mad at you.

Once you’re home you decide to call Claire and tell her, out of everyone she would hopefully know if Leon is mad at you and why…right? So you grab your phone and call Claire.

“Hello,”

“Hey Claire, you busy?”

“Nope, why whats up?”

“Well, I think Leon is mad at me,”

“What makes you say that?”

*You tell claire why you think Leon is mad at you*

Claire chuckles a little after you finish telling her why you think Leon is mad at you,

“Y/N, I don’t think Leon is mad at you,” Claire says giggling a little.

“Wha- what makes you say that?”

“I just wouldn't worry about it Y/N, I recommend talking to Leon about it when you see him tomorrow.”

“Okay, Thanks Claire i'll keep you updated,”

“You got it Y/N, anytime.”

♡

The next day at work you find Leon in the breakroom, you decide to do what Claire recommends you to do and talk to leon.

“Hey Leon,” You say as you walk up to him

“Oh, hey Y/N What's up?”

“Leon, are you mad at me?”

“Wha- why would I be mad at you Y/N?”

“Well you were staring at me for the whole meeting yesterday, and then I didn't see you for the rest of the day and-”

You get interrupted by Leon chuckling

“Y/N I’m not mad at you and I was never,”

“Then what’s wrong Leon?”

“Y/N I think I have feelings for you…I didn’t know but I’ve been thinking about it and I think I do,”

You pause processing what you just heard Leon say to you.

“Fuck sorry Y/N I-” Leon starts to say before you cut him off by giving him a peck on the lips.

(Sorry idk how else to end this!)

Albert Wesker (RE1)

Since you joined S.T.A.R.S you have noticed or at least felt that your captain always was staring at you, and when you did catch him staring he always had a hard look on his face.

♡

“I think he’s mad at me Jill,” you say as you watch your captain walk back into his office after he noticed you noticed him staring.

“Oh no what did you do this time Y/N,” Chris says in a almost mocking tone

“Shut up Chris,” you say as you playfully slap his arm

“Seriously though Y/N, wouldn’t worry about it,”Jill says empathetically

“Yeah Jill’s right, don’t worry about it, Weskers most likely got RBF (resting bitch face),” Chris says, letting out a chuckle.

You laugh along with Chris and continue with what you're doing.

♡

It’s been a few days since you got that “advice” from Jill and Chris, and well.. it didn’t really help. There’s still something in the back of your brain that is telling you that you most definitely did something to piss your captain off, and you're pretty sure your thoughts were confirmed when your captain called you into his office.

You walk over to your captains office and knock on the closed door soon followed by you walking into the room.

“Close the door behind you and sit down,” your captain says to you in a calm yet somewhat serious tone, you close the door and sit down in the seat across from your captain so you're facing him.

“Y/N what would you say about dinner tonight at (restaurant name here) around let’s say hmm 7:30?”

You are caught completely off guard by what your captain just said to you but answer to the best of your ability.

“Oh uhm.. I would love to captain!” You say sitting up a little straighter

“Albert's fine dear,” Wesker grins and continues, “so it’s a date then, see you then.”

“Uhh yeah, see you then ca-Albert,” you say as a mini smile appears on your face as you walk out.

A/N: Hi Hi thanks for reading lovely !! Anywho I was going to add Chris and Krauser but I have so many other reqs I need to do rn so I’m kinda freaking out and I didn’t know how to start Chirs’s story so I kinda gave up on him, I got midway through Krausers but also gave up so if you do want me to do both of those men I will probably, eventually 😎😎!!

IM ALSO OPEN FOR EMOJI ANONS 😈

© silly-little-fan-grll, 2023. do not repost, translate or copy my work.

#resident evil #albert wesker #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #yandere albert wesker #albert wesker dbd #albert wesker x #albert wesker x reader #x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil wesker #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #re4 leon #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fluff #albert wesker x you #albert wesker resident evil #wesker x reader #manwhore wesker <3 #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #wesker x you #wesker x y/n #emoji anons #looking for emoji anons

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #clive rosfield angst #clive x reader #final fantasy xvi #my fics

[delphi-shield]

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