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mo0nfairy · 2 months

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

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

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 12.3k.

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

leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .

clingy, heroic, & territorial

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey.”

He jerks around to the intruding voice.

"Who is that?"

"Stay sharp."

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

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

Ada Wong.

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

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

Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.

"My name is Leon Kennedy."

He takes a breath before continuing.

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

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

"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”

The woman halts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lie.

"Y/N is dead."

A silence settles in the room.

Leon stares. That is all he does.

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

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

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

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

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

How can he possibly survive without you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leon presses his finger down.

Click.

Nothing.

Click. Click. Click.

Nothing happens.

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

"FUCK!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look lonely."

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

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

"I can fix that."

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

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

Eh. Good enough.

"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"

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

"I told you to be fucking quiet."

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

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

"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"

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

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

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

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

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

The thought sends him over the edge.

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

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

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

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

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

2,327 days and counting since he lost you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Leon?"

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

"It's me..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why do you always leave him in the end?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're late."

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

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

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

"Tyrell. Call me 'T."

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

"Leon. But, you knew that already."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.

"Get him out of my sight."

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

In the polaroid is no other than you.

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

How...?

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

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

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

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

"W-What are you talking about-?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The world then shatters around Leon.

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

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

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

This whole time you were...

Alive...?

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

"Are you alright, sir?"

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

"I'm dying..."

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

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

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

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

"Leon- LEON-!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.

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

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

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

Alive. Alive. Alive.

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N...!?"

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

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

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

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

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

Then, someone else interrupts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This whole fucking time-!"

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

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

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

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

You look at Ada and speak for the first time.

"'Boyfriend?'"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now stay down."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your throat aches, but you still speak.

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

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

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

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

"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just let me look at you..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.

"And she left this."

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

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

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

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

Ada?

Why is she here? Where has she been?

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N... Where did you go?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This grabs his attention.

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

With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's where Y/N is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,

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

long wait but we back again babyyyyy

gif creds :: leon.

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nyctophiliq · 7 months

Text

✮ ┆ SUCKING HER TITS. ada wong, claire redfield, jill valentine

— “I wonder what has you so riled up.” content warnings. mdni, nsfw content, breast/nipple play, breast worship, fingering, grinding, use of petnames

author’s note. omg enforcermoss is posting again??? after promising fics they are surprisingly back into business and actually posting something??? yeah, I am so enjoy :)

✮ ada ;

sucking ada’s breasts weren’t always a gift, most of the times it was a way to shut you up because after a tiring day at the council she wished for nothing but your company and silence, which was challenging to achieve. she truly adored you, everything about you was her favorite thing, but if her kissing you until you ran out of breath wasn’t going to shut you up then your mouth stuffed with her breasts surely would. not that you ever caught up on all this.

so, there was no surprises why you were here, a small hum leaving you as ada pulls you on her lap, palming your chubby cheeks as your kiss swollen lips latch onto her chest. you nip the pink nub, gently tugging with your teeth, biting down ever so slightly on it just to hear a few of her little praises. you suck it, cheeks hollowing before letting the pink flesh go with a quiet pop. your free hand massaging the other mound, squeezing harder little by little to feel more of the fat ooze between your fingers.

one thing to know about ada’s breasts were that they often felt sore, the long hours spent in her corsets and bras, tits squished half their size to fit into those elegant dresses she loved so much. it was unsurprising when her breath hitched, gripping on the fabric on your back as she leans back in on the arm rest of the couch. your hazy gaze meets her arousal coated one, her thighs clenching when you grope both of her breast at the same time, leaving crescent shaped bruises. ada lets out a sigh as your tongue runs over the burning marks, head falling onto your shoulder with another low moan.

“ah- that’s a pretty mouth put to good use.” ada murmured as her hands danced along your spine before digging through the roots of your hair, kneading your scalp, and playfully pulling you off of her nipple. watching your little desperate act of trying to fill your mouth with her chest again, she lets go of your head and wraps her arms around you, her head falling back against the chair.

✮ jill ;

“need something?”

there weas a slight tease in jill’s voice, putting down her black ink pen and pushing aside the papers she was filling out after a smaller mission and looked down at you. straightening your posture in her lap you start to babble some sort of response, it was entertaining to watch you try to keep your composure while squirming on her fingers. she watched your eyes roll back as you came, and adorable little cry escaping your before falling against her.

“I’m… I,” you tug her clothes, crying out and try to beg but your mind is so foggy, too weak to even form words. but you shouldn’t worry, jill knows exactly what you want, do you think she hasn’t noticed? you gnawing your fingers, dipping your fingertips into your mouth while she pumped hers in and out of you? she sucks her teeth before pulling her fingers out of your pussy, offering it to you like it was the finest piece of cake in all of raccoon city and it’s a sigh to see you wrap your lips around them, feeling your tongue swirling.

this was just to keep you occupied and stuffed as she tugs her shirt out of her pants, freeing her breasts for you to enjoy.

“go on, don’t be shy honey.” she whispered into your ear as she pulled her fingers out of your mouth and reached to wipe them in the little cloth set on the corner of her desk. you latch on her nipple right away, hungrily sucking and nibbling on it. a sigh leaves jill’s lips, toes curling in her boots when you bite the sensitive flesh, tongue brushing over it soon after to take care of the vicious ache. she throws back her head, groaning shamelessly as you hollow your cheeks around her nipple.

your drool covered jill’s nipple, humming pleasantly against the soft flesh when you hear her heated breaths and snuffed moans. your hand came up to cup the underside of the tit that was currently filling your mouth, squeezing it the slightest before letting it go with a pop. it takes a second for you to get your breath back, staring at her slightly reddened areola before switching to the other breast and give it the same loving treatment.

“that’s good, just like that princess.”

✮ claire ;

you’re so confused when she draws you onto her lap and pulls her shirt up, taking your hand in hers and puts it over her exposed breast. her fingers guided the pad of your thumb to caress the fleshy nub, back and forth, gently pushing down on it and when she lets go of your hand she tucks your hair behind your ear.

“what if we try this now, hm?” claire asks and you nod, gulping slightly before dipping your head, sticking out your tongue and licking one of her nipple. you go further and lightly suck on it, feeling it get stiffer under your lips and hearing claire coo as it did. your hand moved upwards the slightest, pushing claire’s breast up along with your movement, continuing to lap at her nipple as you spread your legs the slightest, pressing yourself against claire through your shorts.

she grins as you do so, enjoying every second of the texture of your tongue pressing against her stiffened nub. she can feel herself getting wet, chuckling as she drags your tongue over her nipple before closing your lips around it and sucking gently. it’s obscene how good it feels, your mouth attached to her breast, making her hands shake and legs shake a little.

your free hand comes up to her other breast, jiggling and squeezing it before pinching the nipple between your fingers before opting to roll it between two of your fingers. claire shuddered in pleasure at the harsh touch and as the tip of your tongue circled her areola. when you felt that her nipple was firm enough you pulled away, pressing slight kisses against the pink flesh before sucking bruises into the pale skin of her chest.

“keep going, you are doing so good sweetness.”

#📗 — written by moss !#resident evil x reader #ada wong x reader #claire redfield x reader #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x reader smut #resident evil 4 smut #resident evil smut #ada wong x reader smut #claire redfield x reader smut #ada wong x female reader #claire redfield x female reader #jill valentine x female reader #claire redfield smut #jill valentine smut #ada wong smut

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dollfacefantasy · 27 days

Text

Better Than One

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader x ada wong

summary: leon and ada take care of their needy puppy as your heat approaches

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), vibrator use, masturbation, daddy kink, mommy kink, threesome

word count: 2.4k

a/n: yippeee trying something a little different for me! hope you guys like. as always, i appreciate all the comments and reblogs <3

Any other time, the front door swinging open would’ve set you off into a happy prance to greet whoever it was coming home. Your ears would be perked up, tail swishing back and forth so fast it becomes a blur. You’d wrap either Leon or Ada in a tight embrace, nuzzling them and inhaling a deep breath of their scent you’d been missing for however long they’d been gone.

That would happen any other time, but not right now. Not when you're spread out in Leon’s lap with his hand holding a vibrator to your clit.

When the front door opens right now, you barely register it. Your droopy eyes don’t catch the motion, and your own whines and whimpers combined with the buzz of the toy make it hard for you to hear the familiar creak. You only become aware it’s happened when you see Ada standing a couple feet from the couch, staring down at you with a knowing look on her face. You want to say something, to acknowledge her at the very least, but all words get tangled up in the back of your mouth. They melt down into more needy moans.

“Starting the fun without me?” she asks. Despite looking at you, you know she’s speaking to Leon.

“It wasn’t really a choice. You should’ve seen her. She was practically humping my leg before I let her have this,” he says.

“I bet. It’s because you spoil her. She knows you’ll give in,” she says as she approaches the couch.

Leaning over you, she catches his lips in a quick kiss. She then turns her focus for you and guides your face to look up at her.

“You’re so cute though. I can’t say I blame him,” she says and gives you a kiss too.

You eagerly reciprocate the affection. Your eyes remain fixed on her after she pulls away and sits at the other end of the couch. Her gaze meets yours, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your center. Your eyes flutter shut again as your hips begin bucking harder against the toy and your head tilts back against Leon’s chest.

He chuckles and gives you a kiss of his own. “That’s a good girl, baby. Show mommy how bad you needed your toy,” he coos.

His free hand moves up on your body to fondle one of your tits. You arch into his palm while you can feel her eyes sweeping over your form from her seat opposite you.

“Has she cum already?” Ada asks.

“Oh yeah,” Leon answers as if it’s obvious, “How many times, pup?”

“Twice, daddy,” you whimper, your nails digging into the flesh of his forearm that was wrapped around you.

He rewards your correct answer by swiveling the toy over your clit in a mini figure eight. You cry out, and your legs begin trembling. Your ears pin to your head as more mewls erupt from you. He smiles down at you and continues to drag the toy over your pussy, teasingly prodding it at your entrance before taking it back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Across from you, she has slipped off her boots and brought one of her feet onto the couch cushion. Her legs spread, revealing the black panties she wore under her dress. You lock onto the sight, mouth already watering in anticipation. Two of her fingers slide down between her thighs and stroke over the fabric. She relaxes against the arm rest supporting her back and presses down a bit harder as she continues to watch Leon play with you.

“Daddy…” you whimper for the man behind you. Everything going on was piling up right now.

“What is it, puppy? You gonna cum for daddy again? Gonna gush all over my pants again. You’re already dripping so much, sweetheart,” he says softly while he continues to work the vibrator on you.

“I know,” you whine, “Can’t help it, daddy. Need it.”

“You need it?” Ada teases. Her voice has a breathy quality now as she plays with her own pussy over the black lace between her legs. “You really are getting to be spoiled.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, lip jutting out into a pout.

“Go easy on her. I think her heat is coming. She hasn’t even been complaining about it being too much,” Leon tells her with a smirk.

“Is that right?” she continues, “Maybe you really do need it then. You’re gonna need it next week for sure. Daddy’s gonna have to take extra special care of you, won’t he?”

You nod wildly, your hips moving back and forth on his lap like they have a mind of their own. You can feel the bulge that’s formed in his pants. Your ass pushes up against it with every rock.

“Maybe mommy will help you out too. I’ll pull out that extra special toy you only get when you’ve been really good,” she teases.

You again nod almost as fast as your tail can wag. Both of them caring for you at once, pressed up against you, filling you to the brim sounded like heaven. The image alone is enough to carry you to the edge and rip a shriek from your throat.

“Good girl,” he croons, “You cum again, princess. Cum for daddy and show mommy what she missed earlier.”

With his permission, you let loose. You gasp for air through ragged inhales. Your back arches and jerks with the weight of the euphoria crashing over you. The pleasure only intensifies when you hear a soft moan come from Ada as she watches you let go. Your eyes screw shut, and you rely completely on Leon to keep you from toppling off his lap to the floor.

Once you’ve been through the high and are on the way down, he clicks off the vibrator. He plants a wet kiss on your cheek and scratches the base of your ears gently. You curl into the love and squish your cheek against his muscular chest.

He smiles down at how sweet you are. His hand rubs up and down your back. “You love daddy’s lap. I think it might be your favorite place,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time the motion coming out slurred and lazy.

“That’s right. That’s cause it’s where good girls like you belong. Daddy always wants his precious little puppy close,” he says, “But I think mommy could use some attention too, yeah?”

You perk up at that, remembering that the other person in the room did in fact need your affection. Climbing off his lap and making your way to the other end of the sofa, you smile at Ada on the way there.

“There’s my girl,” she coos.

Her hand leaves her cunt as her arms open to welcome you. You collide with her and cuddle up to her. Nuzzling her breasts, you loop your arms around her waist.

“I missed you today,” you mumble.

“That’s good because I missed you too. You look like you had fun playing with daddy though,” she says and kisses your nose.

“Mhm, but I still missed you,” you say.

She smiles down at your loving nature and strokes along your jawline. “I think I know a fix for that problem,” she says.

You beam up at her in affirmation, having the same solution in mind. The solution you’d had in mind since she first flashed the seductive garment covering her pussy. You’re beginning to slide South when Leon grabs your ankles and tugs you towards him, speeding up your trip.

“Daddy!” you whine and throw a look over your shoulder.

He chuckles at your small cry of protest. He had undressed himself during the moment between you and Ada. His muscular abdomen was on full display for the both of you with his hard cock hanging between his legs. He steps closer to you, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a firm squeeze.

“Shhh, I think daddy deserves a treat too for playing with you, yeah?” he asks.

“I guess,” you huff. Of course, you would never actually turn down a chance to have Leon’s cock inside you, but you also liked playing annoyed sometimes.

You nuzzle into the junction of Ada’s thighs. Your nose swipes over her center, taking in the heady scent that had heat flowing through you. You kiss and lick at the fabric before pushing it aside. One of your arms secures itself around her leg while the other keeps the black cloth from getting in your way. You dive right into your task, lapping at her slick like it’d been years since you tasted it last.

“Such an eager baby. We never really trained patience into you, did we?” she sighs as her head falls back.

You don’t respond, too enthralled with her folds to register her words. You whimper against her skin. The taste alone is enough to have you squirming, but combine that with her hand smoothing over your head and her soft moans of “that’s it, puppy” and “so good for your mommy” and your own thighs were shifting against one another in search of even more relief than you’d been provided today.

Lucky for you, that wouldn’t be an issue for long. Leon shifts you up, pushing your face deeper into Ada’s cunt in the process. He elevates your hips to where he can access your own pussy. You’re already in the middle of the act, so he doesn’t see the need to tease you. Plus he was already so worked up from the multiple releases he’d watched you go through on his lap.

He slides right in with no resistance thanks to how soaked you were. He groans and sinks all the way in. You let out a satisfied moan but remain focused on Ada. You suck on her clit and flick your tongue on the bud before going back down and licking at her hole with sloppy strokes of your tongue.

He lightly smacks your ass from behind, drawing one more whine from you as he then begins to thrust. Your chin is coated in Ada’s arousal by this point, but that only spurs you on in your fervor.

Her noises gain volume, joining in the chorus of moans coming from you and him. Your noises are slightly muffled since you're buried in her cunt, but his skin slapping against yours with each movement makes up for that lost volume.

“Messy little puppy,” Ada whimpers as she watches you devour her, “Can’t get enough, can you?”

You shake your head as your head bobs up and down, pleasuring each inch of her. He picks up speed behind you, starting to slam into you at a faster pace. You bounce back and reciprocate the thrusts.

“Fuck, look at her go, babe,” he grunts to Ada, “So desperate for daddy’s cock.”

“That’s right,” she breathes, looking up into his eyes, “None of her toys could replace the real thing. She’s always gonna need that the most.”

“Is that true, pup?” he asks you with another slap to your ass. His eyes stay engaged with Ada’s for a moment longer, both sets glossy with lust and consumed with the pleasure you provided.

“Yeah, daddy. Nothing else feels the same,” you pant before pushing your face back against her pussy. Your nose bumps against her clit from the rocking motion of the man behind you.

“Sweetest little puppy in the whole world,” he groans and tilts his head back. He almost loses it when he sees how fast your tail is wagging as he drills into you. “Taking it perfectly, baby. You earned every inch.”

You moan at the praise and lap at her with increased dedication. Your whimpers get stronger and they can both hear it. Ada’s beginning to shake violently as you had when you were on Leon’s lap at the mercy of the vibrator. Her thighs fight the urge to clamp around your head before finally giving in when she reaches the edge.

“Fuck baby that’s it. Make mommy cum,” she moans.

You lick stripes against her pussy with precision, doing it just the way you’d learned she liked. From her noises, you know she’s reaching the boiling point.

“Make mommy cum, and daddy’ll give you a treat, pup. Your favorite treat,” he says.

Your tail starts wagging so fast he thinks it’s gonna fly off at any moment. He also feels you tighten up around him, bringing that special treat even closer to reality. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her thighs while keeping the panties as far out of the way as physically possible at the same time.

It’s no time before she seizes up above you and gushes all over your face. You take in every drop you can, not letting up at all as she rides it out. She grips the couch cushion and your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Leon watches the beautiful sight in front of him. Seeing it only serves to drive him to his own edge. He slams into you a few more times. Then he unloads and sprays your favorite treat deep inside you. He fucks it into you, making sure you get it all as he moans and locks his hands on your hips.

You have your own release too. It’s muted compared to the last three, but still enough to have your body rolling and your moans loud enough to be heard from within the confines of Ada’s thighs.

She’s the first to come back to reality. Leon’s pulled out of you and laying back against the cushion while you’ve collapsed where you were. She lifts your head and swings her legs around to sit normally. She places your head back down on her lap and soothingly strokes your head.

“Good girl. You did perfect. We couldn’t ask for more,” she coos.

“Thank you,” you murmur while pressing your face against her legs.

Leon isn’t long after her to rejoin the land of the lucid. He sits up with a few deep breaths and scoops up your lower body to flip you over and hold your legs in his lap. He rubs your belly and watches over you as you sit in the afterglow of all that ecstasy.

“You worked so hard, pup,” he says softly, “We’re so proud of you.”

They both relax and catch their breaths while showering you with gentle touches and kind words. You couldn’t be happier. While you were all tuckered out for today, you couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting to the next time you could play all together again. You float off into a nap as you rest in the loving cocoon of their affection.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x you #ada wong x reader #ada wong x you #ada wong x y/n

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gettingsilly · 1 year

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Im tired of seeing the reader getting jealous over Ada flirting with Leon, I want to see Ada flirt with the reader and LEON getting jealous ‼️ nobody but him can flirt with his y/n ‼️

#leon kennedy #resident evil #re2 #re4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong #ada wong x reader #jealous!leon

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maccaronimassacre · 5 months

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Going to a haunted house with them <3

Ada Wong

Can tell when something is about to happen moments before it does.

A slightly uneven floorboard? A prop is going to drop from the ceiling.

A small hole in the wall? A scare actor is going to jumpscare the two of you.

Would she tell you though? Absolutely not.

She finds your reactions too adorable and makes a mental note to take some pictures for later down the road.

Ada isn’t a screamer though. She’d either gasp very loudly or stiffen up like a tree.

She enjoyed it though and decides to search for more horror attractions around the area to go to with you.

Chris Redfield

You constantly had to remind him that nothing bad will happen and it’s all staged.

That doesn’t stop Chris from being over protective anyway by constantly shielding you whenever a prop would pop up to jumpscare you.

Even a sudden loud noise and Chris has his arms wrapped around you like a bear.

That is until he sees how shitty all the props and costumes are and he starts to roast them.

“Who made zombies green? Are you seeing this shit, babe? You know I used to punch through these like they were cardboard-”

He ends up rambling about how inaccurate the monsters are but overall has a good time.

Claire Redfield

Would be screaming with you most likely.

The type to spend most of it laughing out of fear but also enjoyment. Mostly fear though.

Claire would definitely hype you up if you got too freaked out and would drag you along the whole journey.

Or similarly to Chris she would be roasting the shit out of all the props in the house.

With Claire’s track record the two of you end up in a completely different part of the house that you definitely should not be in.

She tried to climb through the windows and gaps the scare actors are in.

Probably ends in the two of you getting kicked out but Claire manages to steal one of the props as a souvenir.

Ethan Winters

Considering this man looked at spider Maguerite and said “well that’s special” I feel like he wouldn’t be fazed at all.

Would also find your reactions amusing and occasionally tease you for it.

Tries to touch everything or figure out the mechanics of each room

He’d give the scare actors his iconic 500 yard stare whenever they would try to jumpscare him.

He would hold your hand through out the whole thing though.

But as soon as Ethan hears a chainsaw he is bolting and screaming like his life depends on it.

Also bugs.

And with bugs means lots of swearing.

Leon Kennedy

Would pretend to be unfazed for the most part but internally he is screaming.

He promises to protect you from the spooky ghosts and zombies.

He would tease you constantly whenever you got spooked but would immediately eat shit afterwards.

“Aww did that scare you? Honestly you wouldn't last a day at my-”

He’s immediately cut off by his own scream after someone grabs his shoulder.

Holds your hand to ‘make sure you don’t get lost by wandering off’ but really he needs you for support.

Leon really hates clowns though.

If he spots one its either getting roundhouse kicked or he’s turning around and never coming back.

#ada wong x reader #chris redfield x reader #claire redfield x reader #ethan winters x reader #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong #ethan winters #leon kennedy #chris redfield #claire redfield #resident evil

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dilfbunny · 3 months

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Breaking The Glass Ceiling (18+)

ft. aunt! ada x fem! reader

WARNINGS !! - incest, age gap - reader is in her 20s, mentions of parental issues, ——throat training with a dildo/strap on, gagging, fingering, vag fucking with a strap, pet names 𓃹

wc. 1.2k

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Your mother had always resented her little sister. She was the family favorite. The successful sibling. Even you seemed to favor her.

She holds a grudge, still to this day. She swears that Ada stole everything she’s ever had. Parental approval, boyfriends, and now you.

Ada was constantly on her ass about how she raised you way too sheltered. She predicted early on that you’d drown once you stepped foot outside in your own world outside of your mother’s control.

Well, she was right.

College didn’t work out for you and that was something your mother couldn’t bring herself to understand. She didn’t care what the reason was. She was only focusing on how you ‘gave up your future.’ But waking up was hard enough as it was, going back to school just made everything worse. Staying motivated at all was hard. Keeping a steady job was hard. Some days, life was just too real.

To your mom, that made you lazy. And of course she blamed it on the new boyfriend.

That was always her go to. It wasn’t that you were struggling, just the things you surrounded yourself with. Your friends, your phone, whatever she could bring into the matter. You were just fine.

She did nothing but undermine your feelings throughout the years, even more so once you became an adult. You knew you were going to be pushed out of the nest eventually, but still, even a little support would be nice.

She didn’t bother to reach out to you from that point forward. You were supposed to follow her footsteps through to the right path. But you didn’t want that. You weren’t your mother. You were you. Even if you weren’t sure of who you were yet.

None of that weighed you down anymore, however. Not with aunt Ada’s unwavering support.

Of course you went to her when you were having relationship troubles. You wouldn’t get far with asking your mother.

Ada always had herself figured out. She was self-reliant, didn’t need anyone and nothing could bring her down. She just breathed confidence and lured in whatever she was fishing for without fail.

You sought her out for advice. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself by giving bad head for the first time and it was time to take your relationship with your boyfriend to the next level. You figured she probably had some experience considering the way your mother talked about her.

She sure did. Only, instead of the words of advice you anticipated, you’re stationed on your knees in the middle of her living room.

“Open wider, angel. You can do better than this.” she pushes the silicone deeper down your throat, causing your eyes to squint and fight back tears. Her movements were slow which almost made it worse. All the tips and tricks to cease your gagging weren’t at all paying off.

She teases your gag reflex trying to get you to adjust to her length despite your apparent struggling. With a hand on her hip, the other holding you by your hair, she sinks you all the way down to the base of it. “C’mon, don’t make such a sour face,” she mutters. “Relax your throat like I told you.”

Even though she was giving you a hard time, she was undeniably enjoying the view. You looked so pretty, bruising your poor knees and trying so desperately to learn. She could hardly remember you as her niece. Not at all. You were a stranger to her.

“Less teeth,” she firmly reminds you when you start to choke. You’re drooling, stringing saliva with every one of her movements. You couldn’t help it. She picked out one of the biggest cocks she owned just for this special occasion.

Your throat tightens as you try to relax as told, tightening your lips to avoid the scraping of your top row of teeth.

Your thighs knead together as you shift your weight, sitting on your calves. You were completely drenched, and you knew you weren’t supposed to enjoy this. You weren’t meant to be here.

She was your aunt. You just came for a little advice.

“Good girl,” she coos, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear and suddenly you lose all sense of morality. She looked down at you like you were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes on, her voice smooth as silk, repressing all of your doubts. “You catch on pretty fast, so how about the next step?”

She pulls the toy out of your mouth, letting it stand firm as is. “On all fours for me, angel.”

You didn’t even question, didn’t even stop to think. You just did.

You move to your hands and knees, displaying your backside in all it’s glory to her. Perfectly untouched.

Her fingers prod through your entrance with ease, your cunt sucked them in eagerly. She felt around inside searching for that spongey spot which didn’t take long.

You let out a high pitched squeal as she teases over it, curving her slender digits deeper into you. All she wanted was to ruin you in that moment, stretch you to the limit so no man could ever mold you to his desire. But she wouldn’t want to ruin your first time. She knew you’d enjoy her methods much better regardless.

She spreads your legs almost uncomfortably far apart, causing you to shake as you struggle to hold yourself up. The rubber slaps against your clit, making you lose your balance all the more. You clench, expecting to be filled with it. But she only slots the tip of it in.

Your chest lowers to the carpet, back arching into her cock. She just jabs the tip in and out, not quite reaching where you really want it deep inside.

“More…” you whine out, perching your ass furthermore. You tried to meet her, only met with more distance.

“Now, that’s not how we ask for things, is it?”

She was fucking with you, forcing you to a needy state. “Please—, need your cock deeper, Ada,” you let out a pitiful plea, music to her ears.

“Mnn, yeah?” she grits her teeth as if she could feel it, stuffing the toy halfway into your cunt. “Like this?”

The way you pouted made her want to torture you more, deprive you of your need until you were begging and babbling for her to fuck you, make you take it all. She couldn’t resist.

She plunges the rest of the way in, stifling a gasp from your lips. “Such a greedy little thing aren’t you? Hope you can handle what you asked for.”

She ruts into you roughly, hitting your deepest parts, places you never dare tried to reach. Your nails claw at the carpet, grasping, searching for anything to hold onto. She keeps pumping you full, filling the room with the sounds of your gushy pussy, so desperate for release.

“m’ cumming!” you cry.

“So soon? Mnn, you really are too easy.” she grunts, pulling you back by your hips to meet her thrusts deeper. “Cum for me then, don’t hold back angel.”

With your eyes lulling back, body quaking, you reach your peak. The rush leaves you breathless, unable to stumble out a single word. Your body falls weak, trembling onto her floor, which was probably coated in your mess.

You don’t even remember what you originally came for, or why it felt so unbelievably soul snatching when it shouldn’t.

Ada eventually pulls out, removing the harnessed strap from her waist.

“Anything else you need to learn? You’re always welcome here. Remember that.”

#tw dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #resident evil #ada smut #ada wong #ada wong x reader #tw.incest #ada wong x reader smut #resident evil x reader

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roseglazedlens · 7 months

Text

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

➠ series masterlist | 🔃girl’s route | 🔃boy’s route |

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY & CARLOS OLIVEIRA X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG & JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER chapter synopsis: You are amongst the top five selected for this infiltration to take down Glenn Arias. An argument unfolds between the agents and you are forced to pick a side. chapter content: smut in next chapter, resident evil: vendetta spoilers, zombies, haunted mansion, explicit themes throughout this series. a/n: welcome to my second series!! (need to finish my first one oops) on a thursday one month ago, i thought to myself 'zombie threesome hehehe', then i took the idea and sprinted with it and this series is born. so, uh... zombiefuckers rise up?? « 3.3 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

Millions are dying—Mass infections are happening across the globe swamping the streets with an unbeknownst fear. The symptoms of this virus are faint, indecipherable next to an x-ray of a man who is perfectly healthy. Not even the carrier themselves are aware of how the virus lies underneath their veins, dormant, until a click of button is pressed from a commander far away, then their symptoms worsen: a headache, a cold, veins turning purple as the poison hatches in them, spreading, until the only thing that can manoeuvre their limbs is the word: KILL.

That’s the greatest strength of this virus. Anyone can be infected, and maybe, you already are.

This product first reached the underground market three months ago. Called the A-Virus; a bioweapon succeeded in the market for its ability to infect targeted communities remotely and leaving no evidence on the perpetrator, which no other distributors had successfully produced before.

Engineered by Glenn Arias, the researcher sold over thousands of this bioweapon, becoming a billionaire overnight at the cost of lives lost from the whims of the rich. He supplied the wealthy and corrupted, like insatiable brats, with new remote-controlled monster trucks, who only aims to tear down families and have their victims beg mercy to a monster that will not speak reason.

Hence, this problem brought attention to a global scale, having the DSO come in alliance with the BSAA and other independent mercenaries to hunt down the vaccine and put a stop to Arias’ grand schemes. Handpicking five agents who are equipped with both experience and skill to combat a zombie attack on this scale of doom and urgency.

Those five agents are Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, Leon S. Kennedy, Ada Wong, and you.

A plan is already in place. A distraction concocted with your intel and the help of a senior researcher of all things bioweapons, Rebecca Chambers. While Arias is busy attending fake business meetings on the other side of the world, the five of you will infiltrate his private mansion to retrieve a concentrated sample of the A-Virus. Rebecca can use the sample to reverse engineer it into a cure and send her findings to facilities across the world.

The plan sounds brilliant in writing, but when you arrived his private mansion in Queretaro region, Mexico, something is off about this place.

Arias is a mastermind, you had been warned many times, in which you appropriately prepared all your best gear for this mission to treat it with utmost gravity. You’re thinking armed guards, well-equipped security, BOWs. But when the five of you pushed open the front doors of his mansion, it was quiet.

Empty. Not a single soul. Just five of you greeted by the whisk of wind through weakly hinged windows that somehow makes the humid air stick to your skin further. Did Rebecca get the wrong info? No one lived there. From what you heard when you were in town, not even the locals dare to venture anywhere near the odd gothic mansion on the top of the hill. They said it’s abandoned, cursed, rumoured to whisk away young children if they ever step foot inside.

It’s a story they say to stop the naughty kids, you remind yourself. It’s not haunted. And you’re not a kid anymore.

The inside is abandoned. Cobwebs lay thick between cornices and carved columns, the floors laced with a film of dust on the luxurious dark wood flooring, creaking with worn age as you take each step. Besides the chandelier, every single piece of furniture is either the same colour of black or red, or nothing else. The soft red velvet upholstery and the rug are made with the same fabric. And you can find the same dark wood in every corner of this house. It’s in the tables, the shelves, the chaise, the painting frames, and stone-like head sculpture whittled with the same exact dark wood, ridged the exact uniform way.

Then, you look at the wall. Black patches of mould smearing across the burgundy wallpaper like a crime scene.

Something creaks behind you. The hair on your arms stands up as you shiver, immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. Despite the number of times you had taken down hordes of incoming zombies like they’re cardboard targets, why is a bit of wind freaking you out? It’s not a ghost, just old foundations, maybe mice, or wind kicking something off a table, like how every old house sounds like. You look around to see if anyone else catches you jumping at nothing, before Jill says, thankfully unaware of your worry:

“God, the smell. What have they done to this place?” Her hand flies over her nose as if that will help to shield any smell whatsoever. Unfortunately, the building is moulded far beyond salvageable that the stench lingers in every part of the mansion.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. We get weeks-old corpses in body bags every day. It’s absolutely retching.” Jill’s earpiece fizzes into life, and she recognises the familiar playful lilt of Rebecca’s voice on the other side of the line.

“At least that’s refrigerated and contained, Rebecca. This fucking stinks.” Jill scrunches her face like she just ate something unpleasant.

“I’m sending my sympathies from my well-conditioned lab right now.”

Carlos appears from Jill’s behind, placing a firm, teasing hand on top of Jill’s shoulder. His wavy curls catch in the wind and his teeth glistens sparkly white. “Yeah Jill, got a problem with my natural musk?”

Jill shrugs his hand off, grimacing at his attempts at flirtation. “Take a shower first, then we’ll talk.”

In which Carlos laughs, holds his hand out at his heart as if it was just torn into shreds. “That hurts my feelings, Jill. Why aren’t you ever saying things like that to pretty boy over there?”

“I have a name, Oliveira.” The blond man turns around at the call of his nickname, familiar with the nickname, but it's not pleasantly received by him.

“I think pretty boy suits you more, Kennedy.” Carlos replies, a glint in his voice that hints something a bit less than friendliness between them.

“Ah, so you do know my name.” Leon quips back while staring directly into Carlos’ eyes, before getting cut off by Jill.

“I would, Carlos, but if I have to hear one more corny ass comeback from Leon’s mouth, I’ll throw myself out the window right now.”

“Takes a genius to get my humour.” Leon smirks.

Your eyebrows raise almost immediately to chime in. “Erm… I think we have different meanings for the word ‘genius’.”

Quiet chuckles ripple through the room. It helps that you have worked with these guys throughout the years and had come to know and get close to them—some a bit closer than just friends—but none of them are strangers by far. Usually, you would be working with only one or two of these guys, never in a big group like this, but it seems that everyone is already well-acquainted with each other.

You toss a glance at Carlos and catch him staring at you, smiling. Ah, you see now. Carlos must have been trying to lighten the mood because you had been jumpy ever since you had arrived. You nod at him, a silent thank you before the five of you venture deeper into the eerie atmosphere.

The goal is to arrive at Glenn Aria’s office. According to Rebecca’s intel, Arias hid a concentrated sample in a safe last time he was here. You will need Ada to crack the safe to retrieve the sample and deliver it to Rebecca. As you traverse the corridors, it twists and turns in different directions—whoever engineered this did not enjoy unexpected guests at all. But under Rebecca’s guidance, she walks you and your team through the labyrinth with ease and precision.

But unfortunately, not ease and precision on your part. You trip over your own leg and almost fall to the floor as you round a harsh turn according to Rebecca’s instructions, and Jill catches you right on the arm before you fall.

“Easy there.” Jill pulls you up the ground, and you regain some balance. “You good? Mind your step.”

“Why did I agree to babysit?” Ada speaks, finally, for the first time in this mission. Despite how quietly she spoke under her breath, her words abruptly cut through the air, and all attention is on her and the red sweater dress that curves into her frame perfectly now.

“Oh, I bet once you get your paycheck it will be worth it. Or will you be betraying us, huh, Ada?”

Leon smirks loudly. Ada’s face goes from tired to exhausted in one second. “You just can’t let bygones be bygones, can you?”

“That’s rich coming from someone who used to work for Wesker.” Ada’s heels come to a stop, and with a slow turn, she stares deeply into Leon’s eyes that speak a million threats without needing to be utter a word. Oh, and believe me, you do not want to be messing with Ada. You learnt that the hard way.

“Woah, guys. Let’s keep this civil. No need to get heated.” Carlos rushes to stand right between them as the duo glares at each other with passionate fury and resentment.

You nod, joining Carlos’ side to stand by him. “Carlos’s right. This is not the time to pick a fight.” But it falls on the deaf ears of Leon and Ada.

“Thousands were killed. I want what’s good for the people, and I’m not sure Ada here is on the same page.” Leon continues, adding fuel to the fire.

Ada lets out a disbelieved gasp in response, before recollecting herself and replying in her usual tone of calmness: “Someone has to pay the price. I’m just the executor.”

“Regardless of our motivations, we all are on the same side here.” Carlos attempts at resolution again, putting his hands up in between them, and fails embarrassingly once more.

The air is heated with hostility; Leon and Ada’s eyes are locked in a trance, a hazy spite that reigns their composure, that looking away from each other means forfeiting. You don’t see either of them walking away first, they are both prideful people after all.

“Uh… Jill? Some help?” Carlos looks around to find Jill, who is leaning against a wall, her arms relaxing by her sides, unphased by the fire stirring right in front of the crowd.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” Jill is merely waiting for either one of the parties roll over.

You feel speckles of flame through the two of them, as if steam is retreating over the top of their heads, burning not just them, but also everyone else in the room. Until the boiling point hits, and it erupts all in one second. The duo walks away, off to different directions in bitter adrenaline, until you and Carlos are just looking at each other.

“I guess we’ll take five. There’s a safe room up ahead.” Carlos is speaking, but you’re the one listening.

The five of you enters the safe room in silence. It is a storage room—despite its name, it’s quite large for a normal storage room—with boxes stacked on all ends that made the room seem smaller in comparison. A ceiling light illuminates the room dimly, but it isn’t enough to shade away years of old animosity from their past.

The lively conversations you had mere minutes ago is gone now. Just silence and awkward rustling as each of you sits in your own designated corner. Carlos and Jill find themselves a seat on top of a firm box. Leon and Ada giving each other the silent treatment, standing on farthest end of the room to each other. You are simply minding your own business, gathering materials to craft a flashbang to pass the time. Doesn’t hurt to have more supplies anyway.

There is a notable division on each side, an imaginary alliance that you choose to be on neither side. Until Leon crosses the boundary line, somehow making his way to you. He picks up an empty grenade case next to you, assembling the pieces together for your project.

“Sorry you had to see that.” A little guilt tugs at Leon’s voice.

“Not at all. I get why you felt that way.” Leon nods, a look of gratitude hanging softly through a smile. His other finger seals the flashbang cap and hands it back to you. “But you need to learn to control your temper. Especially when it comes to Ada.”

Speaking of Ada, a shiver runs down your spine suddenly. The feeling of someone sending laser signs and telepathic warnings towards you. You turn around towards the direction of the aura to find Ada, her back leaning against the wall, arms crossed without engaging or acknowledging anyone in the room. She stands by herself alone, and that’s how you had always known Ada—distant and in her own mysterious world. Not really a chatter, despite the number of times she had saved you in the past.

Ada does not look at you, but you can feel her glaring down—either you or Leon—with her entire body.

“Good to see the two of you getting along at least.” Carlos holds out two plastic water bottles to you two from a supply crate he found in the room, which Jill has finished downing two of them already.

You two gesture ‘no thanks.’ Ada does not spare Carlos a glance at his direction when he offers.

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Carlos says sarcastically, before taking in a generous sip from his drink.

There’s a moment of silence. Then, a moment of dry coughs; a squeak of footsteps, a joint click from a stretching neck. Then silence once more.

“I’ve had enough.” Jill slaps her hands on her thigh before pushing herself up from her seat. “You guys gonna keep acting like kids? Grow up, this isn’t high school anymore. Take your drama outside. If we’re gonna take down Arias, we have to get along. And yes, that means moving on from shit that happened… five years ago? Five years ago and you two are still hung up? Unlike you all, I’m actually looking forward to go home and get a decent shower, hopefully soon.”

You nod in approval as Jill speaks her mind, and you are glad at least the few of you have their priorities in order. Ada flicks her head away from Jill, but her silence is telling of how much she is thinking over Jill’s words.

“Leon, can you accept this?” Jill asks.

There’s a bit of reluctance in his voice, but he agrees anyway. “Fine.”

“Ada?”

Before Ada can respond, smoke is creeping into your vision, coming in quick. It merges into your view, obscuring it, and you whiff something artificial, some kind of chemicals that is piercing to your nose and eyes. You can’t help but wince, hands groping the air in attempts to find comfort in the person closest to you—anyone for that matter—to indicate you’re safe and is indeed not under attack. Your fingers find themselves in a fistful of someone’s shirt, muscles tensing tightly underneath the fabric on their shoulder cap.

“Leon. Is that you?” You cry out.

“It’s me. Stay close and don’t let go. It’s an ambush.” Leon pulls your arm towards him, securing your safety with his hand in yours.

There is some coughing through the air, faint panic in voices underneath the hissing of gas that seems to be coming from above. You hold onto Leon a bit tighter.

Carlos calls out desperately “Where are you guys? Is everyone okay?” as he flaps his hand around the smoke to stir it away. He finds you and Leon almost immediately, and looks down to your hands, finding them clasped tight against each other. Your hand lets go of Leon flying behind your back, but Carlos already saw it.

Jill is coughing deep from the smoke. “I-I’m here!”

“It seems like we’re all here.” Ada says, composed as ever despite the circumstances.

The smoke dissipates—until most of the fog fades away, escaping through the cracks underneath the door to the other side. Leaving the five of you standing in the same storage room darting eyes around, seemingly unharmed, and even more confused.

After what feels like a while later, Jill finally breaks the silence: “Huh. What was that?”

“No enemies.” Ada unholsters the pistol from her belt, inspecting the room and the door behind the room. “Clear on this side too.”

It’s strange. If this is an ambush, why isn’t there an attack?

Leon places a finger on his earpiece to activate his microphone. “Rebecca, come in. We’ve just been ambushed by some kind of smoke, but nobody’s hurt. Happen to know what’s going on?”

His earpiece buzzes into life. “Hmm, let’s see. From the architecture plans, I see the vents are connected to a lab below. It seems abandoned, there are no signs of anyone triggering an attack on my end.”

“Whatever it is, we need to investigate.” Leon’s voice is firm and serious. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

You swallow deeply, fear settling back inside you. “You think it’s a trap?”

“I think…” Leon pinches his chin. “…Arias knows that we’re here.”

Your heart drops—Bundle of fear, anxiety and stress springing back into your nerves as you probe at the possibility of Glen Arias knowing where you are. What you’re trying to do. Making sure you will never reach that sample despite your hardest wills.

“He shouldn’t. Rebecca, didn’t Arias get on the jet?” Carlos is also thinking too.

“Affirmative. Security footage showed Arias walking into his private jet, and it took off four hours ago. He should still be in the air. No signal of them making a pitstop anywhere.”

You hear black pumps clacking against the hardwood floor. “I’m getting the sample.” Says Ada, her foot is already halfway out of the door. “Follow me or not, I don’t care. I’m here for the objective, and only that.”

“And what if something happens to you?” Carlos asks, genuinely concerned.

“I’ll deal with it if it happens.” Ada waves dismissively.

“Ada’s right, we could be set on a wild goose chase.” Jill chimes in. “Millions of lives are dying. We don’t have time to waste.”

“I guess it’s just you and me then, pretty boy.” Carlos rounds his arm around Leon’s neck, bringing him closer in an almost choking grip, a little too close and tight to his liking. And with Leon’s history with Carlos, Leon refuses to believe this is just a friendly gesture.

Leon grimaces, removing Carlos’ hand over him. “So that’s it? We’re splitting up?” The answer is unanimous. “Fine. I guess we’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

Rebecca, through the other side of your earpiece, speaks: “Be careful everyone. You don’t know what kind of schemes Glenn Arias had set up. Please stay safe.”

“We’ll be fine, as long as we don't have any traitors in our team.” Leon says the word ‘traitor’ while maintaining eye contact with Ada. She ignores him, simply deadpans.

“Well, what about you?” Leon nudges at your arm.

You are faced with two options. Indulge in your curiosity and find the source of the gas, or stick to mission as planned? Both options will be dangerous. So who will you trust with your life?

[OPTION A] “I’ll follow the girls.”

[OPTION B] “I’ll follow the boys.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 thanks for reading! come check out my other works! —yours truly, rose. i love my beta reader @scar-crossedlvrs! series taglist: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

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azul-marie · 1 year

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ada. (enamour)

fem. reader. love rivalry including ada/reader/leon. (focus on reader)

something cold digs in between your shoulder blades, sending shivers up tense muscles.

it’s a sudden sensation. catches you off guard you forget to call out to leon, whose back is turned to you whilst sifting through paper files laying across an abandoned wooden desk. the latest room you’ve snuck into seemed abandoned enough — save for its open window rocking back and forth on screeching bolts. they must’ve entered through there mere seconds before the two of you did.

warm, sweet breath tickles your earlobe. another round of shivers overtake your senses. this time, through, you recover quickly enough to react.

your hand flies to your pocketed blade and in an instant is pressed up to their throat. it is then you realize, recognize who your company is. she smiles serenely at you, acting like the knife at her neck isn’t sharp enough to slice through bone. she bears her pistol with all the grace of someone who’s caught you in her web, not the other way around.

“long time no see, kitten.”

her deadpan voice practically echoes through the silence of the night. finally surprising your partner into turning around. what surprises him further is the way ada gazes at you, almost identical to the way she did at him all those years ago.

“ada.” leon says plainly, hand hovering over his own pistol. his eyes flicker between the two of you, to the way your hand fumbles with your blade, to how she smiles a little too suggestively for someone being threatened. he’s certain you’re about to push her down, or for her to knock the knife away from your obviously loosened grip — neither happen.

instead, you carefully tuck your blade away and greet her with a coy smile of your own.

“i wasn’t expecting you here, red.” your arms cross, a guard of sorts. you knew full well of the games she liked to play. she holds your eyes as she slips her pistol back in its holster, searching for something you refuse to show. it’s been a long time, indeed, but you still remember how to compose yourself around her. it’s all rather flattering.

ada circles you, trailing her fingertips over your shoulders. her silky touch is the only weapon in her grasp, but it is perhaps her most dangerous. she takes pleasure in the way you shift beneath her watch, how your pretty face fights to remain mild. she’s no fool. she sees the smile playing at those luscious lips of yours — why bother hiding it? she’s all sultry eyes just for you, now that she’s finally managed to separate your stuffy partner’s hip from yours. seems he hadn’t changed after all. he really was the clingy type.

it was cute. once. not when he happened to be clingy with you of all people.

“once i heard you were around, i just couldn’t help myself.” her arm comes to rest around the curve of your waist. her fingers press into the flesh of your hip, easing you closer. her lips hover over the soft of your neck, almost kissing a path up to your ear. your breathing stutters, and she purrs, “wanted to stop by and catch up with my favorite girl, is all.”

you scoff, but there’s no stopping the heat rising up and over your face. those pretty lips of yours finally turn up in a smile, bashful like a schoolgirl crush. the temptation to run her thumb over your bottom lip runs strong — until an awkward, intentional clear of a throat interrupts the thought.

“i’d appreciate if you left my partner alone.” leon interjects, striding to stand tall besides you. in a swift motion he interweaves your elbows together and pulls you towards him, at once halting the hold she had on you. it’s a comfortable, possessive sort of touch. how quaint. cute little leon, still wearing his heart on his sleeve.

given the way his hand clamps around yours, he must really have it bad. what a shame. for him.

ada is slow to drag her eyes away from you. she even runs them up, down, over your lovely body for good measure. she can’t have leon thinking she isn’t willing to compete — two can play at that game. his fuming glower tells her he’s gotten the message loud and clear. as he should. she zeros in on the way his grip tightens around yours, again, cozily touching you as if you were his.

a quirk of her brow suggests ire. “glad to see you, leon. to think, after all this time, you’re still such a lucky man. who would’ve thought she’d end up being your partner?”

the two of them stare each other down with such intensity you wonder what other history they share aside from you. tension seeps into the chill of the nighttime air. leon’s coiled up so tightly it raises worry, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bicep to placate him. for all you know, the mysterious plagas infecting him could thrive off stress, and he’s already had plenty of that so far.

almost immediately does your touch have him redirecting his notice towards you. his intense gaze softens at your pretty eyes studying him. his broad shoulders gradually relax in your embrace. he’s visibly calmed by the simple act, much to ada’s amusement — and her vexation. her fingertips dig into her palms, wishing it was your hands beneath them instead.

“ada, why are you really here?” you inquire, and she’s pleased when you finally set sights back on her. she’s not fond of the questioning, however. she purses her lips. her expression morphs into a cautious neutral. you’re aware you won’t be getting a direct answer, no matter how much she likes you.

ada sighs, “oh, sweetheart. you know i don’t work and tell.”

guarded, she saunters to the opposite end of the room to the very window she slithered in through, overlooking the bleak scenery with little interest. you slip past leon to follow after her, grasping her fingers to keep her from going any further. pleasant warmth seeps through from your fingertips to hers. there’s no time to relish it, although she longs to feel more. calculating eyes regard you and you alone.

“leave the girl,” demands ada. “she’s lost no matter what. you walk away now…and who knows? maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

keeping her eyes locked on yours, she brings your hand to her lips, and presses a languid kiss across your knuckles. a stain of red now marks you as hers. play glimmers in her irises. “…maybe i’ll even take you on that date i promised.”

“you think we’re gonna give up that easy?” leon’s voice cuts in, weighed with barely contained venom.

“right.” ada exhales a laugh. how true. the two of you really are perfect for one another. hearts of gold, heads full of dreams. she turns towards a silently seething leon, whose eyes pierce her every move. he does a poor job at hiding his envious glare towards your entwined hands. “how about we continue this discussion another time?”

she drops your hand unceremoniously, in favor of pressing a kiss to your cheek. the pulse of your racing heart is nearly tangible. such a sweet girl, flustered by a simple kiss. longing parts her lips in their journey up to your ear to whisper, “stay safe, beautiful.” she pulls away with an air of nonchalance, committing to memory the clear look of shock she’s frozen you into. it takes all she has not to go back in for another kiss, for there’s no knowing where her lips will land if she does.

“keep her safe for me, will you, leon? she’s really quite precious, you know.”

and just like that, she’s gone.

you nearly stumble towards the creaking window for a vain glimpse into the night she’s disappeared through. half shocked, half mortified of your audience still gaping at you, you could only hope he wasn’t put off by the instance of his flirty adversary. or the fact you had no quarrels in encouraging her.

a hand wraps around yours, warm and tight.

“careful. leaning out a little too far there, don’t you think?”

leon sounds rather relieved now that it’s back to being the two of you. ada must’ve been a sore sight for whatever reasons he’s held within. you avoid his eyes to recollect yourself, murmuring apologies beneath your breath.

then, a touch upon your cheek, the very one she’d kissed, puts a stop to all thoughts. your eyes flutter up towards leon’s. his usually somber expression has turned sour, scowling and scorned in a way you’re unfamiliar with. his hand cups your face, thumb frantically rubbing off what must be a lipstick stain ada’s left behind. the intensity of his eyes only adds to your embarrassment, makes you wish he hadn’t seen her in the first place. maybe then he wouldn’t be upset, angry with the ghost of her presence.

“here i thought luis would be my only problem.” leon mutters, so softly you’d mistaken he’d spoken at all. when he notices the shift in your pretty eyes, the sweetsoft concern that struck him weak, his gaze mellows instantly, and he blinks rapidly as if coming out of a daze. rose pink springs across his face in a blooming blush, a bigger surprise than his supposed anger. he rips his hand away upon realizing himself, leaving you curious.

“i mean—i meant, she’s the last person i expected to run into here. it’s—it’s a long story. won’t bore you with it. just know she’s probably not worth trusting completely. it’s best you’re careful around her. i’d hate…i wouldn’t want you hurt.”

his voice goes quiet at the end. his head is turned away, body tight and tense, hands fiddling with the holsters of his weapons. it isn’t like leon to speak so personally. so openly about his emotions. and you know it isn’t because of ada’s mere presence, what must be a recollection of the past.

you touch your cheek, still warm from his skin.

“you’re the one i trust, leon. we came here together, and we’re leaving together. i’m with you until the end.”

courage overtakes bashful notions. you close in beside him, reach up to push a lock of his hair behind his ear. cup his shying face, a tender encouragement to share his vulnerability with you. leon’s eyes fall back on yours too easily, too swiftly for a simple friendship. you see it; he is incapable of masking it.

it’s somewhat of an honor he’s so fond of you. it’s a reminder to be gentle with his feelings, though you yourself may not have yours sorted out just yet. but it is ascertained that you care immensely for him, perhaps in the way he’d like you to. perhaps not. there’s plenty of time to work things out.

“i’m with you, ace.” you smile, tugging his cheek until he returns one of his own. “there’s no one else i’d rather have beside me. got it?”

leon nods, convinced. “yeah. thanks.”

you pay a playful pat to his cheek, satisfied with his answer. “good, good. now, why don’t we get moving? we wouldn’t want to keep miss ashley waiting. what were we even looking for in the first place? some kind of key?”

the mention of the mission reinvigorates him. “yeah, exactly. should be somewhere around here, if you can help me look.”

“sure! let’s just hope we can get by without someone interrupting again.”

“wouldn’t that be nice.” scoffs leon, slipping his fingers through yours to lead you back towards the other half of the room. this habit of wanting you close was really too cute. willingly do you allow him to take your hand as he pleases.

all the while you will your heart not to flutter at the lipstick still staining the other, red on red alike.

#resident evil 4 imagines #re4 imagines #resident evil imagines #re imagine #resident evil x reader #re4 x reader #ada wong imagines #ada wong x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #i’m so glad i finally wrote this LET’S GOOOO #i. am. SICK. so sick of being “jealous” of ada in fics. like…yall see her too right? she’s gorgeous and morally ambiguous right???#so why can’t she flirt with ME?? why be jealous when we can be in LOVE??? why not let her desire ME carnally for once?? leon? i hardly know #anywho. jealous ada + reader fics just don’t mesh w/ me personally!! perhaps because i’m not a naturally jealous person haha #but ada and leon being incredibly jealous of each other + fighting over us though? hell yeah sister

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d10nyx · 4 months

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lipstick

ada wong x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, cheating, oral(f!recieving), fingering

a/n: just a short drabble couldn't get ada out of my mind so here lmaooo.. not great tbh it's just word vomit!! but hope you like it regardless :)

Ada isn't sure how she got here - her face buried deep between Leon's girlfriend's thighs. She had only come to the Gala for the purpose of gathering information, and she hardly expected to see Leon there.

He's checking her out as soon as his eyes find her. She's not surprised in the slightest. Her and Leon have always been a little complicated, to say the least. He flirts with her a little, and she pretends not to notice.

Her nonchalant demeanour crumbles when you approach, sweet as anything. Her eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as you hook an arm around Leon's and give him these bright doe eyes, peering up at him through those fake lashes of yours.

He doesn't deserve you. Not when he'd been ogling Ada all night. You're not even jealous to see them talking. No, you're instantly complimenting Ada on her outfit, gushing over meeting one of Leon's ‘friends’.

Yeah, you definitely deserve better than him. What an asshole. She can't believe he'd even entertain the thought of hooking up with her when he had you on his arm. Not that she'd agree, but with you? That was a different story.

She waits until she can get you alone. Even watches closely to make sure Leon is fully out of sight and out of mind before she's dragging you off to one of the secluded rooms in this oversized mansion.

She tells you what happens, comforts you as you come to terms with the news, and somehow… ends up pushing you back against the table and eating you out like she'd been starving. You make the prettiest sounds, your perfectly manicured nails carving marks into the wood as you dig your fingers into the surface, chipping your nail polish.

She shifts back to admire her handiwork for a moment. Your pretty thighs are marked up with her lipstick, and she can't help but smirk at the sight. It's not long before her head dips down again, black hair cascading around her as she dives back into your pussy.

Her tongue flicks against your clit eagerly, teasing the swollen bud. You can't help but moan, your hips bucking up into her face. She draws back slightly with a chuckle, pushing your hips back down onto the table.

“Don't be so impatient, baby.” She tuts, kissing her way up your thigh again. “I'll give you what you need.”

She holds you down on the table now, her tongue dipping between your wet folds. She laps up your juices, tongue pushing in and out of your tight hole before she slides it up, flicking the wet muscle against your clit once more.

She flattens her tongue against it before she wraps her lips around the sensitive bud and sucks it into her mouth. You feel her hand sliding up your thigh, two fingers teasingly circling your dripping hole before pushing in. She curls them once they're sheathed inside, finding your sweet spot with ease. You feel her grin against your pussy as you whimper and arch your back, knowing she's got you.

She continues to massage your spongy walls with the tips of her fingers, thrusting them in and out as she suckles greedily on your clit. The more you moan, the more you encourage her. It's not long before you're mewling her name, rocking your hips between her face and her fingers.

“O-oh… Ada! I'm gonna… fuck-” You manage to whine, back arching as you cum all over her face. She keeps going until you're twitching with oversensitivity, pulling her fingers out of you and sucking them clean.

“There we go. Forget about that loser.” She says with a grin, wiping your juices off of her chin with the back of her hand. She looks down at the pinkish red marks, letting out a sigh of mock-exasperation.

“Baby. You messed up my lipstick.”

#ada wong #ada wong x reader #ada wong x you #ada wong smut #resident evil smut

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adaelines · 1 year

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edit: sighs i wrote it

listen I'm so. I want a threesome with ada and Leon but I wanna be centre of attention....

like both of them competing for your attention?? competing to see who can please you better, who knows your body better, which one of them can make you moan their name louder? that's what I want. I want them to just be so snarky to each other then just turn to you with the most loving tone and looks!!!

leon sucking on your chest whilst ada goes down on you... ada being mean to leon and then just praising you the absolute most whilst she sucks on your clit, she's so strong you could fully just sit on her shoulders, hold her by her hair against you and she'll purr how good you're being for her, won't you moan her name? no, don't look at leon, look at her, she's the one making you feel good right now.

and leon would leave you absolutely covered in marks, everywhere his mouth could reach, its like he's proving your his and making sure everyone knows.. he'd use his teeth whenever you give ada too much attention, practically growling against you :(

I just want them both obsessed with me honestly

#sighs.#will maybe write about this at some point #ada wong #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong smut #ada wong x reader

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mo0nfairy · 11 months

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

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.7k.

content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.

──── Rain.

It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.

The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?

With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.

You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.

You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.

Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.

The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.

The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.

You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.

"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.

You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.

Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.

You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!

The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.

The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.

But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.

You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.

"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.

You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.

You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.

All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.

The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?

"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.

"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.

"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.

Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.

Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.

A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.

Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.

With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.

You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.

Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.

However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.

That is until you came along.

Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.

Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.

"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.

"Why not?"

"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.

The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.

You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?

The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.

The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.

Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.

With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.

With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.

"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.

Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.

"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.

Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.

You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.

You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.

With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.

Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.

You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.

Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.

He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.

The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.

You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.

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

❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING

I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞

not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.

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biohazzrds · 6 months

Text

You guys don’t understand I would be a housewife for this woman.

Breakfast in bed? Got it

The house? Clean

Children? Bae whatever you want I’ll carry even

Leon though? Yeah hell be at home cooking dinner instead

#cosmos brain #chris resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4 #ada wong x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #Ada Wong #I could get very out of pocket rn #but I won’t.#Househusband leon?#fuck yeahhh #re separate ways #re 2 #resident evil 2

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j3llyd0nut · 6 months

Text

Sharing is Caring

ೀ dog hybrid!Leon Kennedy + cat hybrid!Ada Wong

Tags: gn!reader but fem!reader for the nsfw part, 18+ (mdni), pet/owner dynamic, threesome, neck biting, blood, mommy kink, nicknames (mommy, pretty girl/owner, beautiful), cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of sex toys, masturbation (m receiving), sub!reader, dom!Leon, dom!Ada, fluff ending.

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: idk why I wrote this, I've never written a threesome and hybrids so this was a struggle to finish. Huge thanks to @roseglazedlens for proofreading this <33 wouldn’t have done this without you!

You had been feeling lonely lately, and with that, you decided to adopt a hybrid to brighten your days or spice up your life—as per your best friend, since they were the ones who suggested you get one. After saving up for some time, you headed to the pet store, where you met your now-current pet, Ada Wong. Her hair is as smooth as silk, and her ears are adorned with adorable fluffiness that captures your heart in an instant.

cat hybrid!Ada had no problems making herself comfortable at your home since she can adapt to her surroundings easily.

Even though you bought her a bed, she claimed yours as hers, but you’re not complaining if it means that you can cuddle with her every night.

She’s a very independent cat who doesn’t need that much attention.

However, if you’ve been busy the whole day and barely paid her any attention, you can bet you’ll get a scratch or two from her (typical black cat behaviour). It’s also her way of marking you as hers.

She enjoys lounging in the same room as you. If you're working in your office, you’ll find her on the couch nearby, peacefully napping. Just your presence alone brings her a sense of peace and contentment.

If you’re scared of any insects, don’t worry; she’ll kill them for you in a heartbeat.

“Ada! There’s a spider in the bathroom!” “On it.”

She loves getting spoiled by you, whether it be affection, cuddles, or something materialistic. Her favourite gift from you is the red ribbon collar with pearls; she wears it proudly around her neck.

For a while, it had been just you and Ada, sharing your home in quiet companionship. Then, one day, as you returned from work, you stumbled upon dog hybrid!Leon, a forlorn figure, battered and shivering on the streets. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pity as you came across him, so you decided to bring him home. Getting him to come with you was a challenge, but with the promise of a warm bath and a meal, he eventually agreed.

He was sceptical of your home at first compared to Ada, but as he stepped into your house, the smell of your floral candles and the comforting atmosphere enveloped him. The warm and inviting interior, with cosy lighting and subtle traces of both your and Ada’s personal touches, gradually lowered his guard.

While you were preparing a warm bath for him, Ada finally met Leon. When she caught a foreign scent mingling with yours, she became alert. Upon entering the living room and locking eyes with him, her gaze bore into him with a piercing intensity that felt like she was shooting daggers. Leon couldn’t help but notice her intense glare fixed on him, and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the room. Thankfully, you called out for him, and he sprinted to the direction of your voice faster than he ever had before.

dog hybrid!Leon took his time to settle in and get comfortable around you and Ada.

Eventually, he puts his walls down after seeing how you treat Ada with care and gentleness. He’s also lowkey jealous at how you’re spoiling her too much; cue for her to give him a smug smirk.

Surprisingly, he’s very playful and would tug on your shirt every morning for his morning walk or activities in the park, which annoys Ada so much since he’s disturbing her morning cuddles with you.

He's a quiet one who doesn't use words to express his feelings, but his body language says it all. When you praise him, his face is stoic, but you can see his tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Good boy, Leon!” “Hmm.”

Unlike Ada, who marks you with her claws, Leon rubs his scent all over your clothes. He wants the other hybrids to stay away from you every time you leave the house. Dealing with one—Ada—was enough for him.

Other than that, he made sure to hug you tightly and lick your neck before you headed off to work; it’s a daily ritual that you cannot miss.

He’s the definition of scary dog privilege; he’ll give a menacing glare to anyone he considers a threat. He’s all bite, no bark; if he sees someone making you uncomfortable, he’ll quickly step in to protect you.

After a few months of living and tolerating each other, they eventually find common ground in their share desire to cherish and protect you. Now that speaks double trouble. You were peacefully engrossed in a book when suddenly, a commotion erupts from the living room. Annoyed by the disturbance of your precious reading time, you reluctantly set your book aside and make your way to the room to investigate.

“Now, what’s all this commotion about?” You cross your arms tightly over your chest, brows furrow in frustration. You tap your foot impatiently and let out an exasperated sigh as you stare at them. It is a sight to behold, Ada is tugging on Leon’s tail while he playfully pinches her cat ears in a mock battle.

“Are you guys fighting over your toys again? I thought I told both of you to share.” Both share a knowing glance, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. “...why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

NSFW:

One thing leads to another, and now you find yourself at the centre of your recently upgraded king-sized bed. Leon and Ada deftly position you between them, her soft and plump breast snugly meeting yours, while his firm and chiselled chest envelops you from behind, radiating warmth and desire.

“What are you guys doing?” You ask, your voice tinged with scepticism, yet you can’t deny the trace of attraction as well.

“Sharing.” Ada purrs; her tail puffs up in excitement as she licks your face.

Leon roams his hands over your body in a soft yet possessive manner. “That’s right, we have to show our mommy that we know how to share.” He leans down, sinking his sharp canine teeth into the side of your neck, causing a trickle of blood flow.

“W–wait! But this is wrong!” You moan as you attempt to step away from being sandwiched between them; however, Leon has other plans. Instead of releasing you, he pulls you even closer. His possessive embrace and Ada’s fixed gaze cause your cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

You always find them attractive, but this feels so foreign to you—they are literally your pets!

“Hmm? It’s totally normal for the pet and its owner to engage in this kind of activity, pretty girl.” Ada’s hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of your pants, and she swiftly removes them, leaving you in your underwear—burgundy with black lace. “Oh! And you’re wearing my favourite one.” Ada’s ears raise, and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips as her eyes hungrily fix on the way the fabric hugs your cunt.

As anticipation courses through your veins, your body shivers involuntarily. “Relax, mommy, let us take care of you,” Leon murmurs against your skin. He finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it off you, exposing your breast to the cool air. “No bra? God, you’re such a tease.” Leon growls as he pinches your hardened nipple.

“Of course, I have to hold back from pouncing her every time she struts around the house like that." Ada leans down, capturing one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, her teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh as she sucks and nibbles on it.

You let out a whine from the sensation, and your head tilts backwards, resting it on Leon’s shoulder. With a swift motion, Ada positions herself between your legs, and her gaze meets yours with lust. “Can I taste you, beautiful?” Your cheeks have a hint of nervousness as you nod your head in agreement.

Without wasting any more time, Ada goes down on you, pulling your underwear to the side, her mouth finds its way to your most sensitive part. She starts to tease, kitten licking, her tongue laying flat between your folds, slurping and sucking on your clit as she savours the taste of your desire, the velvety texture of her tongue heightening your desires.

As your moans grow louder and more desperate, she increases the intensity. Meanwhile, Leon’s rough hands find their way to your breasts again, kneading and pinching them. You can feel his bulge growing behind your ass as he humps against it, his tail wagging behind him excitedly.

The sensation overwhelms you, with pleasure coursing through your veins as both of them continue their assault on you. Your back arches as Ada finds your sweet spot; her claws grip tightly on your thighs, leaving marks on them but not enough to hurt you.

“Ada! Ada!” You grasp her cat ear tightly with one hand while the other one claws at Leon’s forearm. Your grip on her ear makes her grunt onto your cunt, sending vibrations to it.

“That’s it, mommy; surrender yourself to her.” Leon coos in response, his fingers tucking your hair away from your face and revealing your blissed-out eyes.

With each flick of her tongue and each thrust of her fingers, Ada drives you closer to the edge. Leon senses your impending release, and he brings his middle and index fingers to your lips. “Suck on it.”

You nod your head and suck on his fingers eagerly. The sensation of your tongue swirling around them and the tantalising, moist sounds emanating from you and Ada causes a bead of saliva to form at the corner of his mouth while his cock strains against his boxers. Lifting you off his lap with one hand, he hastily pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his cock from its confines.

That momentarily catches Ada off guard, but she continues to pleasure you with her tongue and fingers, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure. The closer you get to your release, the tighter your hold was on her dark locks. She hisses in pain against your cunt, Leon notices her discomfort and gently loosens your grip on her hair. “Easy, pretty owner, not too much.”

Your apology is muffled by Leon’s fingers, and you extend your hand, offering a gentle caress to her ears as a silent apology. “It’s okay, beautiful." She breathes against your thigh and gives it a light peck, her voice filled with gentleness. “Just give in to it and come for us.”

You struggle to stifle yet another moan that threatens to escape. Leon withdraws his fingers from your mouth, leaving behind a glistening trail of saliva that connects both your lips and his fingers. “Don’t be shy now, mommy.” He firmly cups your face with his other hand, his fingers exerting a strong grip. “You think we don’t hear you late at night when you play with your toys?” He let out a growl, and his touch suddenly becomes less gentle but rather commanding—clearly jealous of them.

Fuck.

You are becoming increasingly overstimulated, and his jealousy ignites an intense arousal within you. Ada’s skillful touch and her tongue send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response to the pleasure as you squeeze her head with your thighs, a subtle but unmistakable expression that you are closer to your climax.

His hand, still slick with your saliva, strokes his own cock while the other explores your breast with an insistent touch, evoking a deep, primal moan of pleasure from deep within him. Ada’s tail curls with anticipation as you rock your hips towards her face, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. With an intense release, you climax, your moans echoing in the room. She eagerly laps up your juices and skillfully uses her fingers to prolong your pleasure, ensuring your satisfaction.

“Oh, god,” he gasps as he hears your moan, stealing a glance at Ada’s face, glistening with your arousal. The sight is enough to push him over the edge, and he climaxes right then and there. His cum coats your back, and some stray droplets find their way into your hair.

As the intense waves of pleasure subside, your heavy breathing begins to slow, and you collapse onto the soft, inviting mattress, your limbs heavy and your eyelids drooping. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Ada meticulously grooming herself with her tongue, savouring your taste, while Leon kicks off his sweatpants from his ankle, ready to cuddle with you. He doesn’t even bother to clean you up, wanting his cum to stick to you.

“So, did I do a great job of sharing?” Ada nuzzles closer to you; her body forms a beautiful crescent, fitting perfectly against your side. “Yeah, you both did,” you chuckle, and you gently stroke her hair. “But did you come?” concern etches itself onto your face.

“You don’t have to worry about me, beautiful. Unlike a certain pup, I take care of my owner’s pleasure before my own.” Ada’s eyes narrow at Leon in disapproval, and her ears flatten against her head.

Leon huffs dismissively, rolling his eyes, and then snuggles closer to you. His tail gently drapes over your stomach, and he snuggles into your neck, seeking comfort and closeness. That just flares up her irritation. Before she can unleash her claws on him, you intervene by encircling your other arm around her, gently pulling her closer. “Okay, less fighting, more cuddling,” you propose with a smile.

Both nod in agreement, and as Ada nestles her head on your arm, a contented purr escapes her while her previous anger slowly dissipates. Whereas Leon, embracing a playful mood, makes an attempt to monopolise your attention. He entwines his legs with yours, draping an arm over your chest and casting a smug smirk in Ada's direction, his tail tapping lightly on your torso—a sweet revenge for all the times she'd stolen your attention from him. Ada's response is swift as she hisses at Leon and extends her claws in a challenge.

You release an exhausted sigh and massage your temples. It looks like it's going to be a long night—have fun having two pets who are fiercely horny loyal and protective of you.

#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚#leon kennedy x reader #ada wong x reader #dog hybrid!leon kennedy #cat hybrid!ada wong #leon kennedy smut #ada wong smut #resident evil

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