#albert wesker x reader smut

[funniestpersonalivefr]

tits, ass, or thighs? (resident evil men headcanons)

obviously nsfw, mdni or i will eat your mother 😒. anyways afab anatomy. includes: wesker, leon, chris, and carlos

albert wesker:

he's definitely a boob guy

loves the look of your boobs getting gripped by his gloved hands

also likes the look of his gloved hand around your throat but we dont have time to unpack all of that

wesker loves the sounds you make just from playing with your tits

he'll knead at them, suck on them, gently nip at them. he's just obsessed with them

wesker leaned back taking in the sight in front of him. you on top of him, fucking yourself stupid on his cock. you wore his glasses as you rode him. his hands reached up as your tits bounced up and down, he was done for. he gripped your tits, rolling your nipples between his finger tips. the loud moan you let out was like music to his ears.

leon s kennedy:

he loves your thighs

he's ready to be strangled to death with those things

they're soft and he constantly grabs at them

he'll leave hickeys all over them before eating you out

overall he just wants to be smothered by your thighs

leon's hands were all over you as you guys made out. his hands finally found his way to your thighs, immediately pushing them apart. he moved down, trailing kisses as he went. when he got to your thighs you knew he'd be there for a while. he nipped and sucked at the skin leaving hickeys all over, his hands gripping them so hard you thought he'd leave a mark.

chris redfield:

chris is the type of guy to answer this question with personality

however he's a boob guy i dont make the rules

he could sit there for hours just playing with your tits

absolutely loves to suck on them, especially because it drives you crazy

he is obsessed with them, do not wear a shirt with cleavage he will die

you and chris had been invited to a pool party and he thought you were going to kill him. he watched you, well more so your boobs, as the night went on. your bikini was hugging your chest perfectly. when you finally left, the moment you got back home he had ripped off the top. his mouth and hands quickly working on your boobs. he was obsessed with you and every little sound you made.

carlos oliveira:

ass

carlos is an ass man

he'll rest his hand on your ass as you walk around

if you walk past him he's slapping your ass, and that slap echoes

he just constantly grabs at it because he knows it gets you worked up

you were on all fours. this was carlos's favorite position. he was plowing into you at a relentless pace. his groans and praises filled your ears as he gripped your ass with so much force you knew it'd leave a mark. your mind was numb only taking in the feeling of the man behind you. you suddenly felt a sharp pain on your right cheek as he slapped your ass causing you to whine out under him

[sinsofnivan]

baser instincts. — ALBERT WESKER x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: wesker wants a baby. who are you to deny him?

TAGS: overstimulation, oral sex, monster fucking?, tongue fucking, breeding kink, mating press, dumbification, creampies, lots of em, degradation, praise, short aftercare at the end, soft wesker.

WORD COUNT: 2654. oops

A/N: sorry it took me so long!! i actually had trouble writing wesker a little bit. and i also forgot to link the ask, my bad! i drafted a whole ass chapter becaues i didn't think it would be like him. 

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

"didn't i tell you to keep your legs spread?"

a sharp pain interrupts your brain-numbing pleasure—-a harsh smack bestowed by none other than your strict lover. you quickly part your legs, as his initial request half an hour ago. "good pet. you need this," he growled, keeping a firm grip on your knee as he began to work on your puffy clit with his tongue again. you're clearly overstimulated and fucked out—but he's yet to stop. you need this, he says. you needed to be fully prepared, completely lubricated so your tight cunt will accommodate his girthy, veiny size.

his tongue, monstrous and almost tendril-like, dotes on your clit, while his fingers curved upward, busying themselves with rubbing against that spongy nub that sent you to heaven. you hold on to his hair, yanking on it harshly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you vigorously. he grunts with a mouthful of pussy, nose practically pressed against the pillowy flesh of your mons whilst his tongue rapidly flicks on your clit. you caught a glimpse of his face when your eyes peer southward. golden brows were narrowed as his gaze was affixed to you; slitted eyes more dilated than usual. wesker groaned, feeling your cunt pulsate against his calloused digits. his knuckles were coated with your sweet, addictive slick, and his nostrils were filled with the scent of you. fuck, it’s addicting. his cock’s too hard against his pants.

“albert i—, i can’t anymoooore,” you whined, hips bucking against his face. his response was what you expected from the male—him picking up the pace and cruelly ramming his fingers knuckles-deep into you. he didn't care if you were sensitive, didn't care if the pleasure was too much. his priorities were elsewhere, getting you prepared for his fat cock.

the moment his lips nicely wrap around your aching clit, you were coming undone; squirting all over his face and soaking everything near him. and wesker? he lapped all of it up, tasting and slurping every bit of you, getting drunk and high on your taste. he hummed in satisfaction, nursing your sensitive clit with slow, gentle suckling sensations, his voice buzzing against your bud. "a, albert—," you sobbed, hips spasming against his face. you're given a chance to finally catch your breath as he pulled his fingers out from your folds. "yes, pet?" 

he ascends back to level with your pretty face, and he prods the same cum-soaked digits against your lips. "you did so well," he cooed, watching you obediently take in his fingers. he muttered a swear, loving how docile you are for him. only for him. "do you think you're ready for my cock, pet?" he quizzed, the pads of his fingers toying with your tongue. it didn't matter if your spit was leaking from the sides of your mouth, he still thought you were the most gorgeous girl.

"i asked you a question, didn't i?"

"y, yesh—'m r , reahdyy, pleasheee—,"

a smile tugged on his lips.

"what was that? i can't understand you."

you whined, petulant. but you knew better. he'd never end his teasing. another garbled plea escapes you. "so pathetic, darling." his tongue cleaned up the dribbling spit. "but only because you asked so nicely," you huffed when he retires from you completely. you miss his warmth, his scent . . . you help him with ridding his pants, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with his pants. the moment he's bare, his hands are back on your body, caressing your curves and everything else that was within range. 

"legs up." he states. you were able to lift them, miraculously, albeit a little wobbly. your cunt comes into full view again—fuck—you swear you see his eyes dilate a little wider. so pretty . . he needed to ravage it. needed to fuck you full 'til you prayed to god. (him.) a thumb runs over your slit, and a glistening, clear string of slick that was neither his spit nor your cum clings on to the pad of his thumb. "fuuck—," he growled, using one hand to push one leg up to your chest, and the other to guide his girth into your slit. "put it in—pleasepleaseplease, put it—!"

a gasp interrupts you as he shoves it with one, harsh snap of his hips. he's so fucking big and thick, you could feel him against your cervix. it's only now he pushes your other leg up to your chest and you swear he sheathes in so much deeper. "breathe, pet. breathe," you didn't even realize you held your breath. you pant, holding on to his arms. "your pussy's so fucking—," he began to move his hips. slow and gentle, at first. "tight. 'nd warm. fuuuuuck—," his eyes rolled back in overwhelming bliss. you're fucking perfect. "hnnnggg—so deep," you watched him. well, tried, to watch him through lidded gaze, but the drag of his cock was so fucking heavenly. rolling your eyes was almost impossible. 

wesker's usually calm and composed—in control of himself. it's a rarity to see him so vulnerable like this, and he doesn't even know what comes over him. but he needed you. needed you stupid and fucked out for him. needed you to writhe under him. his hips pick up its pace, from slow thrusts to harsh, brutal pounding. it didn't take long until the slapping sounds of flesh grew louder, and so did your moans. your nails dig into his skin, branding him with your own unique marks of crescent. he didn't care. not a bit.

"need to—need to breed you," 

he grunts out in between ragged breaths and high-pitched cries, mercilessly ramming as deep as he could into you. you couldn't do anything but lay down and take it like his good pet, cries of his name were the only comprehensible thing that came out of your mouth. "gotta breed you. yeah? you like that, filthy girl?" his body weight replaces the hands that pin your legs down, and you could feel his mouth lapping up on your cheek and on the edge of your lips. your cunt spasms at his words—and you only nod. "u , uh-huh!" was your pathetic response. you didn't know that he could go any faster, but again, wesker always defied the norm of human uniformity.

"yesyesyes—fuck! you're taking my cock s, so well," 

your legs helplessly flail over his shoulders as he continued to use you like his own fleshlight. pleasure blinds you, irises receding back to the pits of your sockets. "only i can use you like this," not like he'd ever let his perfect girl slip from his grasp. "only mine. fucking mine." he makes sure you'll remember it with emphasized, cruel snaps of his hips. "yours! just yours—♡!"  good girl. good fucking girl. do you really think you'll be able to get this pleasure from somebody else? 

he continues to fuck you deep, loving how your cunt made noises that were just as obscene as your mouth did. there was no mistaking the twitching of your cunt, or the familiar pleasure pooling in your tummy. "think 'm close," you whispered so softly, wesker thought he hallucinated it. "think i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuck—albert!" your desperate begging was what confirmed it for him after. 

"go on, pet. cum on my cock."

he cooed before claiming your lips. he didn't shy away from filling your mouth again with his tongue. your eyes widened, cries becoming significantly softer now that his appendage muffled all of it. it's a shame he didn't get to witness it, immersed into tonguefucking that mouth. you gagged, tapping on his arms erratically. you couldn't breathe properly, couldn't even speak—but you were almost—

"mpfhhh!"

you sobbed as an orgasm was ripped from you, spurts of clear liquid squirting out with every push in of his merciless hips. he groaned into your mouth, unable to help himself from spilling his thick and warm cum into you too. just before you could feel yourself pass out, he thankfully retires that inhuman tongue from your throat—and you gasp, taking in a well-deserved lungful. 

"h, haaah . . what a messy girl—,"

he mumbled dumbly against your cheek. even though he came, it's like nothing even happened. his hips continued to rut into you, trying to bully the tip into that perked cervix. "gotta get you knocked up. need you . . need you pregnant," the thought of you and him being a family made him feel things. trigger his lust anew. you would be so gorgeous carrying his child, carrying his last name—and everyone would know that he fucked you and got you all knocked up. he wasn't lying when he said he needed it. 

you're too full—cunt leaking and overflowing with semen—and you can barely think straight. nothing else but just how much you love him and how much his cock split you open. "a, albert—i love . . love you. love you s'much," you cried, and wesker can't help but adore how vulnerable you are. "say it again," he demands, moving his hands to your ass and shoving his cock as deep as he fucking can with the extra push. the leaking crown of his cock finally breaks through protective flesh, and he's so deep in your fucking womb. 

"l , love— i love . . " you can't bring yourself to find the words to say. ever the unmerciful, he only pushed your ass up into his thrusts. "you love . . ?" "you! you! love you, albert!" you cried. it made his stomach turn. "such a good girl," he grunts through gritted teeth. even after his cock throbbed with overstimulation, his hips kept moving. kept slipping in and out of you, fucking you like he didn't just spill his load in you seconds ago.

the hypersensitivity makes him cry out louder than usual, whimpering your name again and again like a prayer. "you'd be such'a good wife. my good wife, all mine. fuck, i love you—," his admittance is practically what sends you over to the edge again, toes curling as you cum again for the nth time for him tonight. it's a pleasurable, burning pain, but you both can't get enough. wesker left open-mouthed kisses on your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears. he didn't mean to make his pretty girl cry . . 

"don't cry, shh . . . j, jus' take it. take it like a g, good wife, darling." it hurts—his tip was so so sensitive, and it didn't help that your cervix cradled it so so nicely but— "fuckfuckfuck—," can't stop. it would hurt to stop fucking you. hurt to stop pummeling that pretty cunt. he needs you like air. he could feel his own spit leaking from the edges of his mouth, but he's too fucked out to compose himself.

by now, it's easier for him to slip in and out from your pussy, his girthy, veiny cock completely lathered up in your slick. there's cream sticking to your skins, somethin' he'd lick clean after. and you? you're seein' stars. can't even rake your fingers down his skin anymore. so properly fucked stupid you can't even register his tongue slithering all over your jawline. 

his hips rut into you without relent, slamming down as deep as he can just to fill you up like a good husband should. "albeeert—," you whined. god, you moaned out his name so sinfully good . . "wanna be bred. wanna be knocked up. please please — love you . . . ♡," oh, you sweet thing. how could he not cum? when you're encouraging him to? when you were practically milking him dry? he convulses with pleasure as he cums. a lot too for a second orgasm. 

and his cum overspills. he's not too pleased about it—and after sloppy, unrhythmic thrusts, he finds himself plunged deep into your cunt, feeling your walls pulsate around him, feeling the sensitive crown of his cock in your cervix. "you're spilling lots." he growled, and you whined. "sorry—sorry . .  " you huffed. only when the rough thrusts ceased did you realize how tired your legs were. "you're wasting all that cum, pet. tsk, tsk." you feel his hold on your rear loosen as he tucked away the strands of hair that littered your face.

your chest heaved, and you finally get to look at his face. he was just as flustered as you are, a few droplets of sweat trickling from his temples, and—fuck, his pupils were blown out with such hunger and carnality. wesker closes the gap between the two of you again—devouring your lips and indulging both you and him in a kiss, albeit sloppy and barely qualified for an actual french kiss. he simply let you suck on his tongue. it was cute. 

even cuter when he began to move his hips brutally and cruelly again, and he could feel you struggle to suck on his tongue after. "mpf! mhhf!" you groaned, can't do anything else but take it like a good pet. a good wife. he grunts, not immune to the pleasure from his own ferality. you whined when he pulled away, trying to chase his lips.

"you're gonna be a good wife—gonna, fuck! gonna get knocked up. right?"

nod, nod. "yes! yes! 'm a good wife! your good w, wife!" 

you didn't question him or your new title, just going with whatever he wanted. you didn't even have half the mind to think. "if . . if you're—if you're a good wife, you're gonna cum on my cock." you huffed. could you even cum anymore? he clicked his tongue when you shook your head. "c, can't." "you can, and you will." he's stern, and so are his thrusts. his hands are back to gripping your curvaceous rear, and rutting into you like there was no tomorrow. it feels so so good! but—you can't. y'can't anymore. how many times have you cum for him tonight?

"c'moooon, pet. squirt on my cock, pretty . . "

wesker ensures that you're pelvic to pelvic, no space spared in that tight cunt. he won't allow it. "i caaan't!" you sobbed. "you fucking will, because i say so." he pants, feeling fatigued in his hips, and feeling another one rising quick. he whined, railing that creampied cunt, rearranging your fucking guts. "gonna be knocked up . . be bred," he grunts. thinkin' about being creampied again makes you feel so tingly. "right? right, darling?" "uh-huh! uh-huh . . ♡," 

with how harsh and how fast he was pistoning into you, it was hard to not feel an orgasm catch up. it was cummingcoming so fast you could only widen your eyes as the feeling began to swell in your tummy. "yeah? cumming? cumming, darling?" "don't stop! pleasepleasepleaseplease—!" you could only nod. with a few more bucks of his hips, he's cumming, and so are you. your voices mixing in a sinful duet as you've both reached your high. white blinds you for a moment, toes curled as you pathetically gush all over his cock. you're sure were gonna pass out . . . wesker kept his cock buried to the hilt, blanking out himself. he drooled, mumbling your name along with a bunch of swears. "hnn . . " you're so fucking full—you don't think you can take any more. 

you stay in that position for a couple minutes or so, before wesker gently clasped your chin, tilting your head to face him so he could kiss you affectionately. you're tired and sore, but try to reciprocate the affection anyways. finally, he lets your legs down as he pulls out. they're wobbly and quickly falls on the bed. "albert . ." you whined, reaching for his hand. he's quickly rushing to your side, caressing your hand and bestowing kisses on your knuckles, up, up, to your arm. "i'm here, sweetheart." whispered the blonde, covering your bare bodies with a comforter. he'll clean you up later. 

"you're perfect. did so well for me," he kneads your shoulder. you only hummed ready to succumb to slumber. you murmur out an "i love you." —- and you feel a kiss on your cheek, then your lips.

"i love you too."

+ extra. wesker breeding you. 

end.

A/N: hope this was to every wesker fan's liking. <3 THANK YOU FOR READING!

[saddleups]

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 4.4k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . series of one shots, ongoing STARS!ALBERT WESKER X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . boss x employee dynamic . slight dom/sub ( nothing too out there ) . use of honorifics ( "sir"/"captain", at the moment reader will not refer to wesker by his name ) spanking . creampie . unprotected . incredibly down bad behavior. ask for triggers man i'm doing my best out here ;-;

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . .  you are a receptionist at s.t.a.r.s headquarters and are quite popular among the employees for your many charms. captain albert wesker , your boss , is not your biggest fan. so one night you decide to stay late to get some extra work done and you find yourself creating a new , unexpected relationship with the man you swear is such a jerk.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . none of this is very christian of me. anyways. this was a series of drabbles i wrote a while ago but never shared until i decided to re-do this account. it's just pure smut. there's a few parts to this so if this is something you're interested in keeping up with just let me know !

The skirt you wore today was short—not scandalous, but toeing that fine line of propriety. You hadn’t planned it, much like those days when the office AC was set just a bit too cold, and your body betrayed you through thin fabric. It just… happened. And apparently, it worked; the men in the office seemed to linger longer by the receptionist desk, asking about your day, chatting about lunch options.

Today, it was Chris Redfield who made his way over, his broad shoulders and strong arms accentuated by the fitted uniform he wore like a second skin. He leaned casually against your desk, biceps flexed just enough to catch the eye, and gave you a friendly smile.

“So, what are you doing later?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

You smiled back, coy. “Haven’t decided yet.”

“Maybe I could help you decide?”

Before you could respond to his playful offer, the familiar sound of precise, deliberate footsteps filled the room. Captain Albert Wesker approached, his presence like a sudden chill. He stopped a few feet from your desk, and his gaze, sharp as ice, settled on Chris.

“A slow day for you, Officer Redfield?”

Chris straightened immediately, clearing his throat. “No, sir.” He cast you a quick, apologetic glance before retreating down the hallway, his footsteps fading as you rose to stand in front of the captain. You adjusted the hem of your skirt, feeling the weight of his gaze.

“Captain,” you greeted, polite as ever.

Wesker’s voice was low, almost a warning. “I don’t appreciate distractions in my department.”

“It wasn’t my intention, Captain.”

Beneath his calm, unyielding exterior, it was impossible to read his true thoughts. You were used to the effect you had on people; most found your charm and warmth inviting, and it was part of why you’d been hired. Clients and staff alike appreciated your ever-present smile, the soft touch that eased the tension of the office. But Wesker was a fortress, all business, no play.

With two taps on the edge of your desk, he dismissed you. Without another word, he turned, striding through the double doors to his office.

You turned to a nearby coworker, rolling your eyes. “He’s such a jerk.”

“He's your boss,” they teased. “Not everyone can fall for your charms.”

The day wound to a close, and as the office grew quieter, Chris circled back to your desk, his smile as easy as ever. “So, any chance I get to steal you away for a bite tonight?”

You tapped the stack of paperwork on your desk with a rueful smile. “Long night for me. Maybe next time, Chris.”

He chuckled, giving you a wink. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Before long, the office had emptied out, and the eerie quiet of after-hours set in. Only a few dim lights remained, casting long shadows across the empty cubicles. You checked the time and decided to finish the remaining tasks in the morning. Gathering a few scattered papers, you noticed a sealed letter addressed to 'Doctor Albert Wesker' buried in the pile, something you’d overlooked in the day’s shuffle.

Your gaze flicked to the closed double doors of his office. Knowing how he already seemed to regard you with thinly veiled disdain, the idea of interrupting him after hours felt daunting. But you were determined to make a good impression, so you took a steadying breath, stepped to the door, and gave two light knocks.

“Come in,” came his voice, firm and unyielding.

You entered his office, a space you rarely saw, and felt its chill immediately. The room was as stark and impersonal as its occupant: dark stone walls, polished surfaces, no hint of comfort or warmth. He sat at his desk, the dim light casting sharp lines across his face as he worked. Only the sound of your heels clicking against the polished floor could be heard.

“Yes?” he asked, glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose as he pored over some report or another. For a moment, his eyes flickered up to meet yours, you felt like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a predator.

You hesitated a moment. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but…”

“What is it?” he pressed, clipped.

You steadied yourself, lifting the letter. “You received a letter, sir.”

He extended his hand, expression unreadable. “Then give it here.”

You stepped forward, letter in hand, feeling the weight of Wesker’s attention settle briefly on you before his eyes dropped back to his paperwork. His fingers tapped impatiently on the desk.

"Here’s your letter." You placed it in his hand, waiting a beat, hoping he’d say something more than his typical brisk responses.

But his gaze remained fixed on the document in front of him. "Thank you," he replied curtly, not looking up. As he grasped the letter from your possession, his fingers brushed against yours for the briefest of moments. An unexpected strike of electricity shot through you at the contact.

You shifted your weight, trying not to feel foolish for expecting more. "Long night for you as well, I suppose?"

"Yes," he said, dismissively, barely glancing at you. "As you can see, I’m a busy man. Not much time for idle chatter." His tone held a distinct edge, one that made it clear he saw this exchange as a disruption.

You felt a slight flush creep up your cheeks but pushed on, hoping to soften his walls even a little. "I just thought it might be nice to… check in, make sure everything’s in order before I head out."

Wesker’s mouth barely twitched, his voice all business. "Everything is in order. You’re dismissed."

The finality in his tone stung, yet you nodded politely, preparing to leave. But as you turned, your hand brushed over the stack of papers on his desk, causing them to cascade on the floor in a chaotic rain of white.

"Apologies, Captain," you murmured, quickly bending down to pick it up— cursing under your breath while doing so.

Bent over gathering the papers in a haste, you felt your skirt inching up, however you were too focused on your task to notice the slight pause in Wesker’s movements above you. The room fell silent, save for the quiet rustle of your clothes. The short skirt you wore betrayed you, exposing your black lace thong and the garter belt holding your stocks up.

Finding balance on your feet, you shake in your heels. Hair always neatly placed had now become undone, strands hang loosely to frame your face, cheeks flustered in a pinkish hue.

If the skirt hadn't had it's fun already, it was now your blouse, just a half-size too tight. The button had spoke it's last words while you were occupied with gathering the papers on the floor. It revealed the bra matching your thong, black lace with a tiny pink bow at the center. Eager to leave after dropping his papers, you hardly notice.

"Here," you said softly, placing the paper back on his desk. "I am... so sorry."

Wesker’s face was as impassive as ever, though there was a slight tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He stood to tower over you, you could feel his aura— authority. It left you breathless.

He says your surname, low and menacing. "Did you think this little performance would change my opinion of you."

Through the tint of his glasses, you could sense his eyes lingering to your chest. The pinkish hue on your cheeks now coursed through your body, leaving you flustered and embarrassed beyond belief. Attempting to hold your blouse together with a weak hand, Wesker is unable to shift his gaze elsewhere, enthralled by your two mounds being propped up by your delicate, manicured hand.

You look up at him, trying to muster some semblance of defiance. Perhaps as a last ditch effort to spare your dwindling pride. "I don't know what you mean, Sir."

Wesker's eyes raked over you, burning into your soul. "Do not lie to me. I see that you look at the men in this office. The way you dress to provoke them. You can try your luck with the likes of Officer Redfield…" He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

"But do you really think you can seduce me?"

Your pulse quickened, swallowing hard you respond. "No, sir. That's not what I was trying to do."

Wesker rose from his chair and towered over you, his face unreadable. "Over my knee," he commanded with a voice that brooked no disobedience. His intense gaze never wavered from yours, pinning you in place with the weight of his scrutiny.

As fear and excitement waged war within you, hesitation flooded your senses. But there was no escaping his will, and deep down, maybe a part of you didn't want to. So with a racing heart, you walked over to his desk and bent over his knee.

Your eyes fixated on the floor as sweat formed on your brow, anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

To your surprise, Wesker's touch was gentle as he lifted the hem of your skirt, exposing your bare backside to him. The wetness between your legs couldn't be ignored, and you stammered out a feeble, "d-don't look."

With a dark chuckle, Wesker replied, "My dear," causing your throat to constrict. "You and I both know that's not what you truly desire."

His hand came down hard on your exposed flesh, the sting of the impact reverberating through every nerve in your body. You gasped, gripping onto something - anything - to ease the pain.

"That's for lying to me," Wesker growled, his fingers digging into your skin. "And for thinking you could manipulate me."

Before you could respond, his hand landed again, this time even harder. The overwhelming sensation sent electricity coursing through your veins, flooding your body with a heady mix of adrenaline and arousal. You couldn't help but squirm beneath his touch, craving more punishment from your boss.

You could feel his erection pulsating against you. Even clothed, tucked away— you could imagine the length and girth of it begging to break free from its confides. Yet you don’t dare to disobey, frame cemented over his knee until he wills you in another position.

“Captain, p-please…” your stutter is pathetic, trembling with need that further stokes the fire burning in Wesker’s chest.

Wesker’s grip tightened, his fingers wrapping around your waist like a vice, keeping you firmly in place as he surveyed the sight laid out before him—a juxtaposition of power and vulnerability. The corners of his mouth curled into a prideful smirk, dark eyes glinting with satisfaction as he savored the moment, each second stretching into eternity.

“What is it that you want?” The question laced with mockery, dripped from his lips like honey, sweet yet tinged with a hint of risk. Your heart raced at the implication, knowing all too well there was no room for mischief when it came to Wesker. Every whisper of your deepest desires hung unspoken in the air between you.

“Just—just more,” you breathed, desperation spilling from your lips before you could reign it in. The thrill of his dominance sent shivers coursing through your body, igniting something primal within you that thrummed with longing.

“More?” he echoed, your admission seeming to fuel his ego. His hand traveled down lower, fingers trailing along the curve of your backside, teasingly light despite the forceful position.

“Is that what you think will keep me interested? Dear, do you truly understand what you're asking for?”

A tremor ran through you at the challenge hidden in his voice.

"Yes, Sir," you whispered, trembling. The heat of his hand lingered on your skin, a reminder of both the punishment and your willingness to submit. The air was thick with tension, a charged anticipation that made your knees weak beneath you.

Wesker chuckled softly, a sound that sent both dread and thrill cascading through your veins. His fingers grazed the edge of your garter belt, teasing but unyielding.

"You think you know what you're asking for. But I assure you, this isn’t just a game." He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear,

"And I am not one to play lightly."

The flutter in your stomach intensified as he emphasized each word, filling you with a mixture of yearning and fear of the unknown. You wanted to speak again, to assert yourself in any way you could—but the words fizzled out at the last moment, trapped by the weight of his intense gaze.

He’s such a jerk, isn’t he? Never a smile, barely a glance your way, and he ignores you so thoroughly it feels deliberate—like you’re nothing more than the potted plant on your desk. So why, exactly, did you want this?

“Do you want more?” he repeated slowly, savoring the moment like it was an exquisite wine. “Then you will have to prove yourself worthy.”

With that, Wesker's fingers gripped tighter around your waist, lifting you effortlessly back up to standing position. You found yourself pinned against his desk, back pressed against the cool surface while he towered over you yet again—with knees pressed together you watch as your boss situates himself, fiddling with the collar of his work shirt as he prepares to undo the buttons.

In a haze, you force yourself upright, shaky hands fumbling toward the same buttons Wesker had begun to unfasten, your touch hesitant but fueled by intent.

"Allow me, Captain," you murmur, voice barely a whisper as your fingers trail over his collar.

Wesker’s smirk widens, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze as he tilts his head. "It seems you’re learning your place rather quickly."

"I'm a fast learner," you reply, feigning innocence, each button slipping free under your fingers as you slowly reveal the toned expanse of his chest. The firm lines of muscle, the coolness of his skin under your touch—it sends a thrill through you, amplifying the steady thunder of your pulse, beating wildly against the quiet.

God, you don't just want this. You need this.

Your hand rests flat against his chest, feeling his heartbeat—steady, controlled. A stark contrast to the furious rhythm of your own. His eyes are locked onto you, unreadable yet searing, like a hunter watching every twitch of its prey.

Wesker’s expression remains calculating, composed; he’s in his element, the hunter is savoring each second. The tension between you is palpable, a rush of arousal and adrenaline flood your system. Despite your best efforts to maintain composure, rival his steadfastness with your own, your legs trembled beneath you— a testament to the power he wielded over you.

Wesker lets go of your waist but only for a second—long enough for him to unbuckle his belt and loosen his pants. His erection sprang to life, long and hard, pulsing with need. The head glistened with a bead of pre-cum. Your breathing becomes ragged at the sight of it, the curvature of it. The pulsating vein that ran up the shaft. How far it’d go inside you, poke at your womb and fill you.

“Lay back.”

Your heart thumped wildly against your ribs as you situated yourself on his desk, eyes never wanting to leave his throbbing proof of arousal. This was what you craved deep down—submitting fully to him, deferring to his every whim and command. A part of you relished in the humiliation; how far would you go for this? How much could you endure?

You shivered under his intense gaze, feeling a thrill of excitement course through you. His fingers trailed along the edge of your garter belt, skimming over the curve of your hip before dipping lower, brushing lightly against the thin fabric of your thong. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan, but it escaped anyway, a soft, needy sound that only seemed to fuel his determination.

"Do you want it?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Do you want my cock inside you, beautiful?"

Your cheeks flushed hot at the crude words, but there was no denying the truth in them. "Yes, Captain, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need it. Please, I need you… Sir."

His hand slaps your wet cunt. The sound echoed in the small office, and you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you. He repeated the action, again and again, each slap harder than the last, his eyes never leaving yours as he punished you for daring to beg.

"Beg properly," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of arousal clouding your mind. "Tell me how much you need it."

You whimpered, your body trembling under his ministrations. "Please, Captain," you sobbed, your voice breaking. "Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me, Sir. Please, I can't take it anymore…"

His lips curled into a slow, prideful smile. "Good girl," he murmured, his tone approving. "That's what I wanted to hear."

With one swift motion, he hooked his fingers into the sides of your thong and yanked it aside, baring your aching, wet pussy to his gaze. You could feel the coolness of the air against your sensitive flesh, and it only made the ache in your core more unbearable.

Wesker didn’t keep you waiting. He stepped closer, positioning himself between your spread legs. His huge cock, already hard and throbbing, brushed against your slick folds, teasing you mercilessly. You gasped, arching your hips up in an attempt to get more contact, he held you still with a firm grip on your thighs.

"Control yourself," he growled, his voice gruff.

But you couldn’t wait. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, your need growing more urgent with each heartbeat. "Please, Sir," you begged again, desperation coloring your words. "Please, just put it in…"

Finally, finally, he granted your wish. With deliberate slowness, he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing the rim before slowly, oh so slowly, sinking into you.

"Captain!"

The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of fullness and pressure that made your entire body tremble. You clenched around him instinctively, your muscles spasming as he filled you completely.

Wesker inhales a breath, chest rumbling. "Fuck," he groaned, closing his eyes briefly as he adjusted to the tightness squeezing him. When he opened them again, they were dark with lust.

"Tight… so damn good."

You could barely form a coherent thought, your mind consumed by the incredible sensations radiating from where he was joined with you. Each slow thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the feeling of being claimed by him.

Wesker wasn’t content to let you languish in blissful ignorance. With a harsh command, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he began to move. His thrusts were controlled, restrained, each one precise and calculated to drive you wild.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice brooking no disobedience. “Don’t look away.”

You met his gaze instantly, your eyes wide and vulnerable as you stared up at him. Even through the tint of his glasses, the intensity in his eyes was staggering, a searing heat that seemed to burn right through you. It was impossible to look away, even if you’d wanted to; his stare held you captive, ensnared by an invisible force stronger than any physical restraint.

“Good,” he purred, his expression almost feral. “That’s what I like to see.”

As he continued to thrust into you, his pace increasing, your vision blurred with tears of ecstasy. His cock pounded relentlessly into your cunt, pushing you ever closer to the edge. Each stroke rubbed against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice rough and demanding. “Say it.”

“Y-yes,” you panted, the words torn from you by sheer force of will. “I’m yours, Captain… all yours…”

He grunted in approval, his movements becoming even more aggressive. You could feel the strain building within him, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second. But still, he held himself back, refusing to let go until he was absolutely sure you were ready.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice cracking with urgency. “Now.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, roaring through you with such force that your hips raised up from the desk, bucking against his uncontrollably. Your walls clamped down on his cock, milking him with desperate intensity as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Wesker followed you over the edge, his own release coming hard and fast. His cock erupted inside you, filling you with his hot seed as he came deep within your pulsing channel. His grip on your wrists tightened painfully, but you barely noticed; all you could focus on was the incredible sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by him.

A moment of silence washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath. Wesker's eyes bore into your own, an almost primal connection that made your heart race. His fingers delicately moved through your hair, pushing stray strands away from your face. His touch was gentle, thoughtful yet it felt like a claiming.

"Thank you," he swallowed. "You've been…exemplary."

His hand trailed down to cup your cheek, thumb gently caresses your skin. The warmth of his palm against your skin was comforting, the simple act of affection amplified something within you. Your breath hitched, and you could feel the heat radiating between your legs, even though he had already taken you to the brink of ecstasy.

Wesker leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You may go now."

With that, Wesker straightened, his movements precise as he strode over to a cabinet behind his desk. He retrieved a fresh work shirt, pressed and ironed to perfection, every detail meticulously in place. As he slipped it on, buttoning each button with practiced ease, the familiar aloofness settled back over him, as if the brief moment of vulnerability had never existed.

The dismissal was unexpected, but the way he said it made it clear that this was not a suggestion but an order. You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment wash over you. Relief because the intensity of the encounter had been overwhelming, and disappointment because you craved more of his attention, more of his control. Regardless, you can't help but to think: dude, you just came inside me and now you're asking me to leave?

As you began to gather yourself, Wesker was now seated behind his desk, his eyes never leaving you. The silence in the room was thick, filled with unspoken words and lingering touches. You stood up, your legs still slightly shaky from the force of your orgasm, and adjusted your clothing. The thong you wore was damp, evidence of the passion that had just transpired.

Without a word, you turned to leave, but before you could take more than a few steps, Wesker's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned back to face him, curiosity and anticipation mingling in your chest. He gestured for you to come closer, and you obeyed without hesitation.

When you reached him, he stood up, towering over you once again. His presence was commanding, and you felt a rush of adrenaline at being so close to him. He reached out, his hand gripping your chin firmly, tilting your head up so that you had no choice but to look into his eyes.

"I want you to remember something," he said, his tone authoritative but not unkind.

"You are mine. In this office, you belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Wesker released your chin and stepped back, his gaze raking over your body. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, assessing, admiring, wanting. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Now go," he said, his voice softening just a bit. "But know this—next time, I won’t be as merciful."

You nodded, feeling a thrill run through you at his words. Merciful? What was merciful about this encounter? Wesker had been anything but, and yet, there was a part of you that yearned for more, for the relentless dominance he wielded over you so effortlessly.

As you left his office, you couldn’t help but replay the scene in your mind. The way his cock had filled you, the sounds of your flesh meeting his, the taste of his skin when you dared to kiss him. Each memory sent a jolt of desire through you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

By the time you reached your car, you were a bundle of conflicting emotions. Exhausted from the physical exertion, yet energized by the raw power of the experience. Gripping the steering wheel, you contemplate to go back. Demand him to take you again, or at least take you home. Yet you don't, you follow his order and drove home in a daze. Your mind constantly drifting back to Wesker’s office, to his command, to the way he had made you feel.

He made you feel desired in a way that went beyond the clothes you wore or the subtle charms you wielded around others. There was an allure in his unexpected charisma, a pull that felt impossible to resist—as if you were caught in a spell only he could cast.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you stumbled inside, stripping off your clothes as you went. The sheer stockings clung to your legs, still wet from sweat and arousal. You tossed them onto the floor, along with your blouse and skirt, leaving a trail of discarded garments leading to your bed.

Finally you unite with your bed, the sensation of Wesker’s cum inside you was unmistakable, a warm reminder of what had just occurred. You closed your eyes, letting the memories wash over you, each one more vivid than the last. The feel of his hands on your body, the sound of his voice commanding you, the sight of his intense gaze locked onto yours.

You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Wesker, of his office, of the next time he would call you into his domain. And as you slept, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning, that there was so much more to come.

[sxftmxlki]

Temporary Bliss; Albert Wesker

Pairing; S.T.A.R.S!Albert Wesker x GN!Reader

Genre; Smut

Word Count; 1.5k

Blurb; It's a slow day in the S.T.A.R.S. office and yet your captain is still overwhelmed with paperwork and like the diligent rookie you are, after catching him in the midst of his stress relief, who are you not to help him?

Warning(s); masturbation, voyeurism, blowjob, petnames ('sir', 'pet'), risk of being caught, office sex, Wesker being Wesker, possibly OOC, not proofread, porn w/ some plot.

AN; Probably the most self indulgent fic I have ever written, the Wesker brainworms are worming, lads. Also first ever actual fic on here and it's smut, because of course. F in chat for Chris.

Unfortunately for you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S, it had been a slow day in the RPD, nothing major happening besides a few phone calls and filing reports. The only other company your team gets is a spider scuttling across the floor. 

The unusual complete silence of Captain Wesker’s office soon catches attention, the captain usually at least being heard typing or muttering to himself but instead he was simply dead silent, like he wasn’t even there.

The team quickly began speculating what could cause the captain to be so silent, some suggested he was sleeping on the job, others guessing he was merely indulging in a hobby – like reading. 

But you, for some reason you couldn’t name, felt almost compelled to check Wesker’s office. You were a new recruit on the team, having joined barely two months ago, and in that time your captain never showed any tolerance towards you – always pushing you to do better or write more reports than the others. So, you couldn’t exactly decipher why you were now stood here during the late afternoon lunch break, planning to check on Wesker in his office. Perhaps you believed that if you showed some concern for his well-being, it’d earn you brownie points with him. 

As you stood there, debating whether or not to knock or simply leave, a faint sound caused you to pause. 

It was quiet, nearly imperceptible, you almost thought you had imagined it. But then you heard it again, louder this time. 

A thud, followed by a hissed curse.    You’re not sure what compelled you at that point but you suddenly found yourself pushing the captain’s door open to gaze into the office, and the sight that greeted you made you freeze. 

Wesker was leaning against the edge of his desk, the surface hidden under large piles of paperwork, his shirt and jacket laid haphazardly on the floor and his hand was slowly tracing up the expanse of his stomach towards his chest. 

You knew by that point, you should have just left, forgot you ever saw anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

And when you saw Wesker twist his nipple with a heavy breath, you couldn’t deny the hot flush of desire that pooled in your gut. 

Wesker’s hand continued its ministrations on his nipple, pulling and twisting the sensitive bud. He seemed entirely unaware of you watching him as his other hand slowly ran down his stomach, pausing at his belt buckle. 

With practised ease, Wesker undid his belt with a quick flick of his wrist. Making fast work of his pants buttons and pushing the fabric down his thighs, his cock springing free, the flared tip an angry shade of red and already leaking precum. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth as you watched Wesker wrap his hand around the base of his shaft, his head lolling back with a shuddering sigh at the contact. He stayed like that for a moment, simply relishing the feel of his hand wrapped around his thick girth before he slowly began to pump himself. 

Wesker’s breath turned heavier, tilting his head down to watch his hand work his shaft through half lidded eyes. His movements began to pick up, his hand now moving at a pace that made him have to stifle his gasps and moans. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been caught watching him until you pulled your gaze away from Wesker’s leaking cock to lock eyes with your captain, his normally icy blue eyes bore into yours with a dark hunger. 

Neither of you spoke for a long minute, Wesker’s hand still working himself as he just stared back at you, until... 

“Come here,” 

Wesker’s voice was low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the controlled, stoic demeanour he always protruded. 

Your legs moved before you could process it, walking into the captain's office, your mind a haze of your own arousal and anticipation. 

Wesker simply watched you for a moment, his face flushed as he fist-fucked himself in front of you. His lips were curled into a slight smirk, the captain not at all annoyed or angry by the revelation you were watching him. 

“I saw you watching,” he finally said, his voice a low growl. “You didn’t come in here just to stare, did you?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone, and you were sure he’d gladly make a show of masturbating in front of you. 

“No, Sir.” The words left your mouth unbidden, fuelled by the arousal and desire building in your gut, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Wesker’s hand stroking his erection. 

Wesker’s fingers curled round your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He studied you a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your gaze kept darting downward. “Then what else are you here to do?” 

“Whatever you want.” Again, the words left you before you could stop them, you were acutely aware that the two of you were still technically in a public office, that someone could walk in at any moment and catch you but the thought only turned you on more. 

Wesker hummed, drinking in your words. Something about them made the coiling feeling in his gut tighten, the thought of you doing whatever he wanted fuelling his arousal. “Whatever I want?” He echoed, chuckling as he leaned closer to you, his breath hot on your face. “Are you sure?” 

For some unknown reason, all words failed you in that moment. You simply stared back at Wesker for a long second, you couldn’t articulate it but, you were sure. You wanted this. Wanted him. 

As you slowly nodded in response, Wesker hummed approvingly, leaning back against his desk and bracing his free hand on the surface. He ignored the few papers that fell to the floor at the sudden disturbance as his voice lowered to a deep, authoritative rumble. “Kneel for me.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice, sinking to your knees in front of him, the sight delighted Wesker more than he cared to admit. “Good pet.” He practically purred, his fingers carding through your hair before grabbing a handful of the soft strands and giving a light tug. 

“Since you’re already there,” he began, pushing your head forward slightly. “Might as well put your mouth to use.” You didn’t realise how close to his cock you were until his leaking tip was prodding at your lips, his precum smearing across your skin in a glistening sheen. You gulped at the sheer size of him, thick and long with a prominent vein running along the underside. 

Wesker notices your hesitance and lets out a disapproving growl, pushing your mouth closer to his cock. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He states simply, the words alone causing another spike of arousal within you as your mouth finally opens, wrapping your lips around the tip. 

Wesker’s head lolls back as you take him in your mouth, his breath leaving him in sharp gasps and his fingers tighten in your hair, only allowing you a few seconds to adjust to the stretch before he began moving your head up and down his shaft.  

The pace he set was firm, slightly uncomfortable but not unwelcome, and when your hands come up to fondle his balls, his stoic composure shattered. 

“Oh, fuck...just like that....you’re so good at this...” The words left him in a low mumble, but they rang out like a gunshot in the otherwise silent office, and you couldn’t deny the pride swelling up inside you. Your response was a hollowing of your cheeks, sucking him off firmly, which earned you a groan from Wesker as he glanced down to watch his cock disappear into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. 

His cock throbs in your throat, and you can tell he’s close. “Fuck...g-gonna-....gonna cum...m’close.....need to-” Wesker’s grip on your hair was borderline painful now but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, your mind a clouded haze dominated only by thoughts of Wesker and the way he’d began to thrust into your mouth at a brutal pace, his tip ramming the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him. 

“Oh, god....shit...I’m gonna....I’m-” Wesker was suddenly cut off by his own loud, sinful moan as he threw his head back in ecstasy. His hand in your hair forcing you down on his cock as his orgasm wracked through his body, your nose was practically flush with his pubic mound.  

Wesker’s moans echoed in his office as his cock shot thick ropes of warm cum down your throat, painting your insides white. He held you at the base of his cock for a long moment after his orgasm, giving a few lazy rolls of his hips as he rode out the last of his high before he eventually let go of your hair, allowing you to pull back off of his cock. 

His vision was hazy, the intensity of his orgasm leaving Wesker’s limbs heavy, but he still managed to gently pet the top of your head. Staring down at you with heavy breaths as he tried to at least compose himself, a few blonde strands of hair had been knocked loose from his pristine hairstyle and were now sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

Wesker was about to speak, his lips parting slightly, before the sound of the door opening caused both of your heads to whip round to see the stunned face of Chris Redfield in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. 

[gothghostiie]

Wesker finding two survivors messing around in one of the basements..and taking the opportunity to catch them off guard and make the most out of the private space, if you catch my drift 👁️👁️

(totally not based off of the times when we play dbd and just point at each other instead of playing the game properly)

you are so smart bestie

cw: gn!reader, gn!other survivor, tentacles/uroboros, little bit of degrading, praise, forced close proximity, fingering, facial, slight overstimulation

the two of you were messing around, hiding in one of the rooms in the old ski lodge. Wesker hadn't found you yet and you both felt so secure to just fool around and be silly, not even keeping track of your surroundings as you both were just pushing each other around, poking and pointing at each other while giggling.

you both were so into it, that you didnt even notice wesker slowly inching closer to the room you were in, not even noticing him when he was watching from the corner of the room. He considered getting two easy kills in one but.. where would the fun in that be?

the two of you only realised what happened when you felt the uroboros wrapped around your waist tightly, the other survivor gasping in shock - just for wesker to grab their chin and finally step into the room, pulling both of you close. "what do you both think you're doing up here, hm?" he hummed, looking back and forth between you. "fooling around while letting your teammates do the work.. pathetic. deserves a punishment, dont you think?" he hummed, before either of you could answer he already pushed you both to the bed, making you kneel next to each other. "undress each other. go ahead." he commanded. you both looked at each other in slight shock, only snapping out of it as Albert cleared his throat. you hesitantly undressed each other, a sharp look from him telling you to not stop at the underwear. naked and blushing you both were now sitting there, Wesker grinning like a kid on Christmas. "there you go, wasnt that hard, was it?" hr cooed, almost disgustingly sweet.

"ass up, face down, both of you." he said, now strict, leaving no room for argument. you both gave each other a look, then complied to him. the uroboros pinned your hands on your back, same for your fellow survivor. wesker stepped closer, caressing both of your naked asses with his gloved hands, the leather cold. he took his hands away, neither of you saw what happened - only realising when wesker slowly pushed a finger inside both of you. you gasped, they moaned softly and buried their face in the slightly dirty sheets underneath them. he slowly moved his fingers around, eventually adding a second finger, stretching both of you rather gently. "there.. you both are doing really well.." he hummed quietly, watching both of your reactions through his glasses. your hole was sticky with his spit with which he had lubed his gloves beforehand, fingers reaching all the right places with every movement somehow. both of you were moaning and squirming under his grip, blushing while sheepishly exchanging little looks then looking away in embarrassment - making wesker chuckle.

"oh you're not embarrassed are you?" he asked sarcastically. "I think I'll have to do something about that." with that he pulled his fingers out abruptly, giving both of you a harsh slap on the ass, making you yelp and your friend gasp loudly. before you could even react properly he forced you into a new position, laying both of you on your sides, your legs tangled up together. you were forced to look at each other, blushing deeply - suddenly you felt one of the uroboros plunge into you. you moaned out loudly, your friend watching in shock as your face scrunched up in pleasure, squirming around in the little space you hand, skin brushing against theirs. only when you calmed down wesker pushed another tentacle into the other survivor, making them moan almost pathetically, leaning their head back. he chuckled quietly, watching you both try to not get too close to each other while you pretty much had no choice other than getting into each others space.

he took a moment to enjoy the view before finally moving the tentacles, immediately fast and rough, making you both moan loudly in unison. you both squirmed around, skin rubbing against skin slightly despite your efforts to not touch each other too much. He chuckled heartily, his cock twitching in his pants. "you two are so pathetic it's almost cute.. trying so hard to stay away from each other.." he laughed, shaking his head. the uroboros sped up, fucking your faster and deeper than before, your moans only getting louder as you were the first to finally give in. you laid your head on the other ones shoulder, unable to hold yourself back any longer. they looked down at you, deciding to just fuck it and laying their head against yours slightly. you were moaning into each others ears, the lewd sounds making weskers cock twitch even harder, straining against his pants to the point where he decided to unzip his pants, getting his cock out and stroking it slowly with one hand.

"just like that... you're taking it so well you precious little things.." he groaned, eyes fixated on the two of you, both slowly approaching your orgasm from the almost violent stimulation. "you're getting so tight.." he teased, making you both whine in between moans. Weskers praise only spurred you on, pushing you closer to the edge as you tensed up slightly.

"oh fuck.." the other survivor moaned, making you look at them; their eyes fixated on wesker getting himself off. you followed their eyes, your eyes widening at the sight, pushing you right over the edge. you moaned loudly, your body twitching as you came around the black tentacle. almost at the same time the other survivor came too, crying out loudly and arching their back. Wesker grinned as he watched you both, the wet sounds of him fisting his cock speeding up slightly. instead of letting you both catch your breath, he kept fucking you with the uroboros, entertaining himself as he got off. you both were squirming, moaning and crying out from overstimulation but he didnt care. low groans escaped him as he slowly got closer, yet taking his sweet time.

only after a few minutes he was on the edge, finally pulling his uroboros back. "on your knees, now." he ordered sharply, you both complied, your shaking bodies kneeling next to each other on the ground. a single tentacle pushed both of your heads close together, weskers cock hovering above your faces - mere moments later he came with a grunt, shooting ropes of thick cum over both of your faces. "ah fuck.." he huffed, leaning his head back as he rode out his high. when he finally looked down he smirked slightly, seeing both of you with wide eyes and his cum painted over your faces. "you both look so pretty like that." he cooed, giving each of you a pat on the cheek before letting go of you, zipping his pants back up. just like that he left the two of you there, out of breath and fucked out but more than satisfied.

[adaptacy]

KNKTBR - Day 3 - Spanking

~~~~~~

A/N: yes I skipped day 2, the prompt was tentacles and I'm not quite an expert on that subject yet.

Pairing: Albert Wesker x GN!Reader

"Turn around."

"Wesker-"

"No. Turn around."

You frowned, narrowing your eyes, but you were met with a significantly colder gaze from the blonde, and you knew better than to expect him to relent. With a sigh, you turned your body, knees pressing into the black comforter below you before you sat back on your ankles, balancing out your weight. Not being able to see him was easily anxiety-inducing, even with how well you knew him, he was impossible to predict.

Turning your head in an attempt to glance over your shoulder back at him resulted in a click of his tongue, and you sighed, frustrated, but gave up and stared idly ahead. Or at least your head was facing forward. Your eyes darted to your peripherals, trying to get a glance at the man behind you, though you remained unsuccessful and oblivious.

A sudden weight on your left hip made your head turn out of instinct, and there was another click, reminding you to face forward. Though you submitted, you made sure your irritation was made known by releasing a dramatic sigh. Not that you got any reaction from the scientist, but you knew that he knew, and that was enough.

It was easy enough to figure out that the pressure on your waist was his hand, as there was an identical palm on your right shoulder, though he pushed more there. You resisted, and the blonde hummed, sounding disappointed, making your skin crawl with the idea. Of course, you gave in, bending to the urges as he pushed your upper half forward, forcing you onto your elbows. Head dropping, you managed nothing more than a whine, meaning it as an apology.

"Darling, it's a little late for that, wouldn't you agree? Don't fret, I'll go easy," he reassured, his hand sliding down your back until his palm caressed one side of your ass, giving the skin there a slight squeeze.

"One more chance?" You asked, a guilty smile on your face, not that he could've seen it.

"All out of chances, I'm afraid. Perhaps next time you'll behave as I ask. Though, given your track record," Wesker allowed a low chuckle to draw out his words, squeezing where his hand lay once more, "I'd be surprised if this lesson stuck any better than the last. You always have been quite the brat."

You responded with a small shrug, knowing he had a point, and he took your silence as submission. His hand released where it was squeezing, rubbing his palm in small circles, and you felt his lips on the small of your back. He granted you one breath before his hand raised, and you tensed, pulling your lips together to half-muffle the whine that came with his hand coming back down, far harder than the 'easy' you'd expected.

Really, you should've known better than to believe a promise of mercy from the man who was actively plotting the downfall of the world. His hand resumed the gentle, reassuring rubs, though now the skin he caressed was a little more tender. That's not to say you didn't appreciate the massages, you definitely did, but it didn't take away from the fact that his smacks were exceedingly harsh. It wasn't clear if he was even aware of the strength he put behind them- Maybe it was the virus that made him stronger, and he may not have even realized how hard he could go. Then again, this was Albert Wesker, and it was equally likely that he merely relished in the pain he was able to deliver with a single strike of his palm.

Not that he was ever satisfied with just one. Following routine, his hand disappeared again before it smacked down once more, your body rocking forward as you whimpered, earning cocky hushes from the blonde. "If it isn't the consequences of your own actions. What a terrible fate you've met. If only you would've behaved. A wonder what obedience can do for you, my love. You ought to try it sometime," he teased, slapping your ass one more time before he returned to resting his hand on the sore spot, giving you a moment to breathe.

You nodded, swallowing the urge to cry, your hips pressing backwards, taking any opportunity to seem more submissive and try to draw whatever pity from him that he may have been capable of. If he even was capable of such a terribly human feat. Wesker hummed, not giving away whether that pity existed or not, merely running his thumb up and down the reddening skin.

"How many has that been?"

You mumbled a response, your head resting between your arms, muffled by the blankets.

"Speak up for me, darling. I'd hate to miscount and deliver more than you deserve."

"Three," you said, lifting your head in order to enunciate your response better, though it fell immediately after.

"Very good. Do you think five will get the point across? Or perhaps I should settle for ten. Make this pain last a little longer. Maybe then you'll remember why you obey," he hummed, running his free hand up and down your back, and you shook your head, lifting it once more to force an answer.

"Five. Five, that's- It's enough. I'll behave," you assured, your voice shaky from the stinging pain in your rear, but you got the point across all the same.

"Will you now?"

"Yes, sir."

"And if you don't? What sort of punishment should I deliver to you then? Fifteen... Twenty? Continue until I'm sure you'll never act out again, perhaps. Could be fifty."

"I'll be good. Please. I promise," you strained, looking over your shoulder, and the blonde smiled at you, his teeth exposed at one side as his lips curled. The older man nodded, and once more your head fell as he delivered a fourth spank, humming out a mockery of the moans that left you.

"Is it the case that you enjoy this punishment? Surely you aren't such a disaster that you crave the pain. That would be impossible, wouldn't it?"

"Completely ins- Ow!" You yelled, your body jolting again as he finished the punishment off with the harshest slap yet, squeezing the skin tightly immediately after. Tears pricked at your eyes, and your hips sunk backwards, fists tightening around the blankets as you relaxed.

"You were saying?"

"Would be... completely insane," you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the discomfort on your skin.

With one more teasing, gentle slap, Wesker removed his hand from your ass and leaned forward, kissing the back of your neck. "Absolutely mad," he whispered in mocking agreement, his teeth pulling at your skin as he nipped, sending a shiver down your spine.

[weskeyboy]

If Wesker accidentally made a clone of himself he would be so sexuallt attracted to him it's insane.

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

shoutout to all my fellow smut enjoyers

[anomaly-hivemind]

Whore Convention ☆ Ghostface, Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhees, Pennywise, Jeepers Creepers, Slenderman, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Albert Wesker, and Pyramid Head x Reader | Kinktober Day 9

Summary: Part two of horror convention (part one), reader uses their VIP pass to have some fun at different stations.

Word Count: 2673

Tags: free use, gangbang, rough sex, overstimulation, mask kink, cum as lube, fem reader,, degradation, spit-roasting, creampies, convention, non-human characters, non-human genital, size difference, size kink, large cock, manhanding, spit as lube, face fucking, semi-public, multiple orgasm, vaginal fingering, monsterfucking, double penetration. Anal, tentacles, bukkake

It's that time of year again, it was time to go to another horror convention. You have been to a couple of them, all very entertaining in their own right but this one feels like it's going to have a different vibe at least according to your friend. She had gone to her first convention last year and swore that it was the best experience of her life and even changed her forever. ( her words). She gave you her VIP ticket because something had come up and she couldn’t make it. So she begged you to go, like literally begged and you were sure she would have cried if you said no. Saying that this opportunity could not be wasted just because of her and that quote on quote someone needs to have their holes filled in her place, which you are sure is some random euphemism she made up or something.

You had nothing better to do on a near Halloween weekend, nothing you cared about that is. You put on a nice cosplay from Jennifer's body. You were wearing a very purple cheerleading outfit, its skirt wasn't incredibly short and the top even though it was long-sleeved was a bit too small so it was a bit cropped. But that's all alright because you look good and a few people recognized the DK on the shirt.

You looked down at your VIP pass to see the location and the time. As well as a cute little skull on the corner. It was on the furthest corner of the building you were in but you still have time to buy or look at a few things before you walk over to that event spot. All you got were a few posters for your room, you even had time to put them back in your car.

===============================================================================

You walked to your Vip event spot in the convention building. It didn't seem like there were a lot of people over here beside you. A person leads you into the room and you go and sit in the small crowd. The spokesperson you assumed got on the stage and spoke into the mic.

“May our lucky vip please come to the stage” the woman spoke and everyone waited For someone. You also look around for a moment wondering who it was but no one came to the stage.

“um if you have a skull of your pass you our lucky vip… could you come on the stage.” You looked down at your card… and noticed that you had a skull. Well shit.

You reluctantly get up and head to the stage, after you were sure that no one else was gonna get up and then confirm once with a door staff that you were in fact the person they were talking about. While they shoved a paper for you to sign, you didn't bother reading much of it and just wrote your signature. It was something like a consent to participate in the event and you didn't want to be kicked out so you didn't hesitate.

You look out in the crowd, now feeling like there were more people now that you weren't among all of them and a bunch of them were in hardcore cosplay.

“Now look at you all pretty up for our little event.” the woman said and could you hear her southern accent. You smiled and thanked the woman.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Well why don't you pick a set of crowd goers. Doesn't matter how many.”

You assume this was some kinda cosplay contest and you got to pick. You picked A secluded few people who looked like they were straight from the respective franchise.

They all came up to the stage one after the other. You had to pick the Creeper, it almost gave you chills looking at him, the fit was spot on. Then you picked a Pennywise because you love a good clown. Purely for nostalgia you picked the few creepypasta you saw that being Eyeless Jack and Laughing Jack, you were sure that the slenderman had mechanical tentacles that even looked wet. Then your guilty pleasure of yours from all the mask wearers Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees and Pyramid Head and lastly you picked the Person who basically Could be his doppelganger Albert Wesker.

You shiver now they are all in front Of you. They were huge, like unnaturally so and you can't tell nor see any stilts. It makes A nervous sound come out of you as you have to look Up at most if not every single one of the men In front of you.

“Well that's a hefty pickin’s you've got.” The woman said before snapping her fingers a few times. Quick moving staff brought up some kind of privacy curtain. It made you confused. You looked at all ten of the people you had selected and just stood there.

“Well make sure you get a wheelchair after the event but don't keep your guess waitin’” she smirks.

“What?”

“You sighed the paperwork right?”

“Uhm yes?”

“Oh then your good, have fun being fucked and sucked.” with those words the spokeswoman ran off stage.

Your eyes widened as you realized what you had signed you for, that being to your consent form for some sex event your friend was supposed to be at instead of you. A shaky breath leaves your lips, you really picked a group of strangers to fuck you. A group of men who were all taller and bigger than you. What was most shocking to you though was the fact that you weren't fully opposed to all of it, if not a bit nervous. But you were down for it in a slightly whorish way.

Up close you couldn't help but look at how detailed each Of these men looked, if you were delusional or something like that you may assume right away that they were the real thing, but that was a completely crazy idea. Right?

Ghostface was the first to make a move on you. Practically ripping your shirt off and it falls to the ground then stealing your panties which you don't think you'd be getting back anytime soon or at all for that matter. You felt like the main character a porno being topless with just a mini skirt and shoes on. All of them were muttering pleased comments for the most part.

“What a willing whore” Wesker said, and his voice caused you to shiver in delight from how spot on it is. Actually they all sounded like their canon voices at least the talkers did. You didn't get much time to be shocked or think about it, when a tendril brought you to your knees. It felt slimy and wet and you couldn't help but touch it.

Jason bends your ass up as rubs his fat fingers between your folds. You bite back hiss, it was too much fiction too soon. Who noticed and pulled away for a moment . The Creeper smirks before moving near Jason and spits on you. You feel his thick saliva sliding down your lower lips and a bit down one of your legs. Jason moves his fingers back against his folds, this time with much ease. You could feel your arousal start to make way now.

The one with The blue mask stands in front of you while unzipping his pants. His cock jumping for your attention, you wrap A hand around it. You cover it in your mouth’s moisture and give it a few strokes, effectively coating his gray shaft with your spit. You open your mouth to get ready to take him. You look up at him as he grips your face and shivers his cock into your mouth. You gagged around him as the rough actions but try to avoid biting him. He was so distracting that almost didn't register Jason pushing two fingers into your walls. His fingers were very thick and it caused you to moan and Eyeless Jack's cock.

“Going a bit easy there” the scratchy voice of the monochromatic clown laughed out.

You weren't paying attention to what the clown said because all you really could think about was how good Jason was making you feel. You could feel your orgasm jumping to make a first appearance everytime you would feel the hockey masked man’s knuckle constantly brushing at your clit. Eyeless Jack was getting sloppy with his thrust and you knew he was getting closer and with you hollowing out your cheeks to help he started to topple over with pleasure. His cock throbbed a few times before shooting his load into your throat forcing you to swallow the cool liquid.

You were falling into your own peak and you could feel it becoming one with your senses, your eyes closed tight and your legs shaking as you fell past the teerting edge. You wanted to curse out as your orgasm gets cut short when Jason gets pulled away by another person, effectively ruining your orgasm. You let out a whimper, but it didn’t take long for the hole to be filled, you get shrouded in the shadow of the muscular pyramid head. You looked back at the beefy man and shivered. He was huge, very potential to be seven feet tall. He plunges his cock into you, and a scream, even with how wet you were he was large and stretching you out. Your eyes watered and a part of you felt like you could die.

“That's what I like to hear” Pennywise chortled with sadistic amusement.

Pyramid head was rough on you, completely focused on himself and made sure that you were taking him fully with each thrust. It was as if you were mush and you didn't think you could be overwhelmed so fast but you were, and if slenderman’s tendrils weren't holding you up, you'd surely collapse on the stage floor. The tentacles were kneading and groping your breast with a slick texture that was cold on your skin. He was moving with little mercy but even passing the hurt it felt good to you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, it almost felt like you had a lower heartbeat because of it. You wanted to use one of your hands to touch yourself up. It gets taken and occupies hisdick.

“Sluts worry about others first.” Ghostface spoke using your hand to stroke his cock.

You moan, feeling your eyes roll back when a new contender moves in front of you. You look up at them, it was Jason; your gentle giant that had done some help, loosening you up. You open your mouth for him, your tongue hanging out ready to take him. He pushed his thick length into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him off. It was the mix of Pyramid head getting ready to fill you with his seed, sucking off Jason and jerking off Ghostface. It was a complete sensory overload and you don't know if you'll make it to the end of it all. It was a mix of muffled groans and your also muffled moans.

You feel the borderline hot cum filling you up and trying to push past his cock. He makes sure to pull out of you as slowly as he could as if he didn’t want to leave Pennywise the first to take his place and quickly while wiggling his fingers before coiling around his hips. His cock felt like he was shifting inside you. It has ridges that were scratching at your walls pushing cum deeper into your cunt. He was thrusted into you into you wildly; he was giggling wildly with each movement.

Slenderman comes up from behind you. A slimy tendril prodding your tight ring of muscle. He circled around the outside spreading slimy fluid before he pushed in the wriggling limb. As he pushed it deeper into your rectum. The circumference widened. It stretched your whole beyond what you believed it could. He was literally in your guys right now, but it felt good. You moaned around the cock in your mouth with it pushed and wiggled around you.

When he slipped out his tentacle you thought it was over but then he thrusted in two of the appendages into your anus. You yelped around Jason and small tears sprang in your eyes. Surprisingly though, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

Jason fills your mouth with his gooey essence, happily. Then after him cums Ghostface, coating your hand in its sticky substance. The domino effect causes you to have yet another orgasm and as you clench around Pennywise swells up a bit before filling you with his rainbow clown Jizz.

They leave you a cum dumped mess with slenderman’s appendages rocking in their pendulum pattern. You felt like you were going to pass out but your holes still had a guest to attend to. Wesker and Myers go for your mouth and cunt respect. Weaker pulls your hair back as he pushes his cock into your hole and Michael was basically throat fucking you.

The Creeper and Laughing Jack then made you stroke them off. You felt like you had been thoroughly passed around and anyone Who had you before was jacking off as you got used like a fleshlight. You have another climax and you were sure everything had gone dark for a few seconds but the bounce of that seemed to matter, to the men of the mattered.

“An Excellent whore to take all of us” Wesker let out a groan as he slammed his hips into you over and over. You felt like we're going to cum all over again. His words make you shiver a bit and you start to clench around him, he slaps your ass like a silent approach. Michael was holding your face with a tight grip as he would take slow strokes all the way out of your mouth before ramming back down your throat. It was causing gag reflects a bit as he ruts his hips into you.

The tentacles pumping in and out of you sped up, the tendrils rubbing against you and each other. It felt like ripples coming through them before warm fluid filled your anal cavity. The semen kept coming and coming it’s like it was almost never ending until finally he pulled the tentacles out leaving you back entrance gaping and puckering. The cum poured out like a water leak, dripping down your ass and legs. You glanced down to see the black viscous liquid creeping down your legs.

You felt like you may have choked to death if you went breathing through your nose. The Creeper was looking at you with a hungry gaze as he started to thrust into your hand. Michael started moving faster, taking shorter strokes between your lips before he let out a hushed breath of pleasure. You almost coughed up the amount of thick fluids that had filled your mouth at once, you managed, then he pulled away. Laughing Jack was tracing patterns into your skin as he let out stroke him at your decided pace. You hold his slender cock in your hand in a firm grip, he was already leaking cum before a strong spray hits you in the face.

You could hear some groans and muffled heavy breaths from the men surrounding you. Their hands stroked themselves with vigor. Seemingly all at the same time they blew their loads onto you, painting your bodies with an array of hot cum. All which coat your skin with different levels of thickness and temperatures. Some were stickier than others, some watery. Different colors and smell. They all were panting, you included when the spokeswoman came back with a towel and your promised wheelchair. You had no energy, barely any to get up and put your close back on.

Your friend was right, this was a life changing experience

[weskie]

Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  

So thick, so full… 

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!” 

You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?

[funniestpersonalivefr]

only you

wesker smut, wesker is rough in this. afab anatomy. unprotected 😔. nsfw under the cut, mdni. not proofread

wesker was clearly upset when he got home. his frustration from work was clearly getting to him. you knew immediately by the slam of the front door followed by the sound of your husband's loud footsteps.

"al, honey, what's the matter?" you ask softly turning towards him. you find him standing behind you, his trademark glasses have been disregarded at the door. he pulls you towards him, crashing his lips against yours. his gloved hands cup your face keeping you close. pulling back, your eyes meet his before he swallows you in a kiss.

albert wesker was never a man of many words, even after your marriage this remained the same with very little progress being made. right now though, he didn't need to say anything to communicate how much he needed you right now. only you could calm him and he knew it.

you're quickly pushed against the wall. his hands pulling your legs to wrap around his waist. a trail of kisses is left from your lips to your neck where wesker starts to give you hickeys.

your hands grab at wesker's hair, ruining its perfect styling he puts so much effort into every morning. he grunts into your neck, and you even manage to notice his hips bucking into you. wesker's perfect appearance is falling apart because of you.

he carries you to your bedroom stripping you down. he throws his own shirt out, revealing his perfectly

"hands and knees, now," he growls out. immediately you comply, anticipation consuming you. you feel him press his bulge into you before the sound of his belt coming undone.

not long after you can feel him pushing into your dripping wet cunt, giving you that perfect stretch he always does as he slowly bottoms out.

he starts thrusting at a rough fast place, all of his frustrations from the day seeming so insignificant now that you're clenching around him in the ways that make him go crazy.

your bedroom is filled with the sounds of your moans and the sound of skin slapping so loudly you'd be embarrassed if you could focus on anything that the man inside of you.

you're falling apart with each thrust, you can tell wesker is too by the stuttering of his hips and the few moans that manage to slip his lips. your face is flushed against the sheets as you grip them.

"al," you call from under him, knowing it drives hom crazy when you call him that. he's getting sloppier with each thrust, signaling he's unbearably close.

reaching down to you, his fingers find his way to your clit, he's quick to work determined to get you to cun with him. he's working you in just the right way.

you're quickly approaching your release, wesker can tell. he quickens his place, slamming into you. he pulls you up, his arm wrapped around your torso. he growls into your ear as he feels you cum around him and its only moments later you feel him spilling out of you.

he collapses down next to you, pulling you close. you hear him mumble out an "i love you," something he doesn't say often but you know he means it. you press a kiss to his temple as he snuggles his way into the crook of his neck. you're glad he's no longer frustrated as you feel his breathing slow, signaling he's falling asleep.

you comb through his hair as you begin to fall asleep yourself. managing to let an "i love you too," slip out before you fall asleep.

[sinsofnivan]

INTOXICATION .ᐟ — RE Men x YOU.

SUMMARY: just horny resident evil blurbs where they're all pussydrunk. <3

PAIRINGS: LEON S. KENNEDY/Reader, LUIS SERRA/Reader, CHRIS REDFIELD/Reader, ALBERT WESKER/Reader, JACK KRAUSER/Reader, CARLOS OLIVEIRA/Reader

WARNINGS: female reader, nsfw themes, PROBABLY inaccurate anatomy, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it folks. ), begging, breeding && Daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry makeup sex, size kink/difference, cervix fucking,

author's note: this is my first post. :) sorry if it's not that flourished . . .

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ NSFW UNDER THE CUT. ┈┈┈┈

LEON S KENNEDY .ᐟ

leon has seen — and will see more — monsters and cruelty beyond human recognition. both you and him think it's a pretty valid reason to not have children yet.

he knows contraceptives and birth control isn't a hundred percent effective, so he always played it safe: cumming on your face, giving you a good throatpie, covering your back and/or tummy with his warm cum . . .

so one could imagine the look of surprise on his face when you wrapped your pretty legs around him.

⟡

"baby, fuck! what're you- what're you doing?"

leon snaps from his fucked out haze, eyes suddenly wide and open as he watched you in your familiar fervour. "leon, please, please, Daddy. breed me. want your cum," you begged for it like you needed it; the shiny gloss of your tears only made you look so much prettier, he thinks . . . how could he resist such an angel like you?

"baby, we- we . . " he physically cannot muster that he can't. because can, and he will. the rough snapping of his hips never faltered, mind and body fueled with the need to breed you, to stuff you full until you leaked. "don't pull out—♡.ᐟ "

your begging alone was irresistible, and with the additional hypnotizing vice you had around his girth — the word no didn't even exist in his head. "yeah? y , y'want it that bad?" nod, nod.

you whined when he pulls out, partly from disappointment and feeling empty without him. you thought you'd be triumphant. just as you were about to call for him, however, your knees are pressed against your chest, and the familiar grip on your hips were now on the back of your knees.

it's not the stretch that makes your eyes wide, but the feeling of his tip pressed directly against your cervix. a premature orgasm rips through you and turning your brain into mush. completely, this time; leon was there to witness this, brows furrowed together and resisting the urge to let his eyes roll back so he can see your beautiful face.

his pounding resumes, skin sinfully slapping against skin, cock grazing your most sensitive spots with each needy rut. "i'll fucking breed you, angel. how do you like that?" your legs are high, higher up, now that he's leaning forward to have a closer look on your pretty face.

"Y/N," he chants like a prayer. he needs you like he hasn't needed before, forever and always. "leoooooon, love you — i love you," you sobbed, nails marking crescents on his shoulders, biceps. you feel so fucking full, you can't even think. just him and how good it'd feel to have his semen leaking out of your folds.

"fuuuuck, baby. you're drivin' me crazy. i love you too,"

his hips are aching, but that doesn't stop him from ramming himself completely deep into you. it won't stop him, because all he can think of is to fuck you stupid, fuck you full.

there's nothing coherent that follows, just pure, absolute filth. you're drooling, and leon's tongue is cleaning up your mess, like he's not drooling with you. his orgasm's nearing, thrusts getting noticeably sloppy and unrhythmic, but still forceful; compensating for the lack of speed.

"'m gonna cum, darling. ah—! beg for it. beg for it like a good girl,"

your pleading resonates in the room. if you could emphasize it with a wrap of your legs, you would have done so already. but your legs feel numb. y'can't move, not with his body weight forcing them up.

"pleeeeease, pleasepleasepleaseplease. need it! need'a be bred, please,"

leon would have come up with a witty remark, but all that comes from him is a groan whilst he buried himself balls deep into you. he's not pent up or anything, not even close, but he knows he's cumming lots. because despite being fully sheathed inside you, it's leaking everywhere. he rides out his high with slow, shallow thrusts, cum spilling with every push of his cock.

he's regaining awareness, taking in deep breaths. his eyes glaze over your figure, pretty much in the same state of post-sex euphoria as you. "Y/N," he mutters, letting your legs down slowly. the wince on your face tells him you're awake, and he cups your face.

"Y/N, baby,"

a thumb caresses your cheek. "—talk to me," leon sighs in relief when you grinned at him. "hi, baby," you croaked groggily. leon began to massage your thighs, kissing your neck. "i'm sorry i got carried away," and the night is spent with you cradled by his strong arms and comforted with his usual sweetness.

now, he's left with an addiction for giving you endless creampies.

LUIS SERRA .ᐟ

GIF by entreri

your pleasure comes first before everything. 

before he's buried deep and you're stretched out from his cock, your cunt's all soaked and prepped from the amount of foreplay he gives you. it's more than just wanting to prepare you. to luis, it's a requirement. having the taste of your pussy and cum on his lips was mandatory. he can't neglect his prinsesa like this.

why would he deprive you of his tongue? his fingers? he likes taking his sweet, sweet time in watching you crumble into nothing for him, only for him.

⟡

"luis!"

how many times have you creamed and gushed all over your lover's face? you can't recall. you don't even know how long he's been lapping at your cunt, but luis continues to coax out orgasm after orgasm from you.

he basks in your reactions each and every time, peering up at you just to watch you writhe from his tongue, how your body arches when you've reached your sinful crescendo, how your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull while you scream his name . . .

every man has his needs, and it's hard to create balance when the need to taste your pussy and your cum is equally as strong as the need to give his cock some sweet relief; after it's been painfully hard for an hour now. it twitches every now and then, aching for you. your touch. your lips, hands . . . "dios mio, chica," he pulls away to spit on your pretty, glistening cunt. "por favor, bebé. te necesito." he's desperate to relieve this ache, to feel that sweet release, but he just can't stop. too addicted. too drunk.  

he compromises, your bliss coming first before his. his tongue laps up at your clit — the sensitive bud all puffy and twitchy from how much he's made you gush for the past hour. you feel so breathless. so lightheaded. still, it didn't stop you from begging your handsome lover. "luiiiis, pleeeease, want your cock." 

his response? delving his tongue into your folds; tongue tracing your creamy slit and cleaning up the mess you've made. "shhhhh, prinsesa." luis says with a mouthful of cunt, nose brushing against your clit everytime he tried to clean up every drop of your slick. your wails only grow louder, weakness taking over as your legs close in on him. luis feels his breath hitch in his throat. 

not just from the prolonged use of his skilled mouth. but because your thighs crushed him. effectively.

can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe . . .  

his hands have a mind of its own at this point, because a mere minute had passed, and he had already undone his pants to pull his cock out. his moan reverberates against your cunt, and it only makes you cry out, pulling on greying tresses. you can't think straight anymore. all you can think of is luis . . . .

he's determined to make you cum again, lips latching on to your clit. he's determined to make you fall apart for him again. his stubble rubs against your soft skin, a harsh contrast from his gentleness, but the burn only makes it all the more enjoyable. "cum, bebé," he says, hollowing his cheeks. your legs only tighten involuntarily, too responsive to his stimulation. luis kept his eyes on you, grunting against your pussy as he fucked his fist. he can't help it anymore, mami.

"oh, bebé,"

if only you could see how he desperately fucked his fist. he was such a good lover for you. it can't compare to your cunt, never — but beggars can't be choosers. you were so lost in your own euphoria, you swore you're seeing stars.He just growls against your folds, eager to make you cream on his face again.

"pleease, mami. cum for me. squirt on my face," 

"oh, luis! fuck! 'm cumming! cummingcummingcummingggg! hnhggh—♡!"

neither of you made sense to each other, engulfed with overwhelming bliss that washes over you — and, well, luis's face. it didn't matter, however, as you two knew your bodies and loved each other beyond words. you didn't need to tell him how good he made you feel, when your shaking legs already spoke on your behalf. 

as soon as luis feels your juices soak his chin, cheeks, hell, everywhere—he can't help but spill his cum into his hand, high-pitched cries buzzing against your pulsating cunt. he rides out your climax with gentle kisses on your spasming clit, each kiss helping you ride out your high. he found it cute how your body spasmed with every brush of his lips and stubble.

he rises to meet you, lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your body. "bonita," he whispered against your stomach, gently nibbling on the soft flesh. everything is blurry for you, with luis being the only clear picture in your eyes. you bite your lip. he goes higher, 'till ivory meets your hardened bud; fingertips toying with the other. "luiiiis, gimme - gimme kiss," you whined, holding his face. "'m here, prinsesa. i'm here," finally, fucking finally, you and luis are face to face. 

"i love youu. love you, baby. i love you so so much," 

"i love you too, mi amor." 

you can't help but grin when you feel his cock—still hard and leaking pre—rest against your cunt.

CHRIS REDFIELD .ᐟ

despite how he hulked over pretty much you and . . well, everyone, chris was a gentle giant. or tried his best to be one. it didn't help that he was naturally strong and bigger than you. his whole figure pretty much eclipsed over your frame, with his hand engulfing the entirety of your own, shoulders enough to keep you out of sight from wandering eyes . . . if he didn't keep in mind to handle you gently, he could practically crush you. 

mind? 

what mind? 

"c , chris!" 

you pathetically drooled all over his bicep as he pounded you from behind. his whole body weight was on top of you in a caging pronebone, with a headlock to completely lock you in place. "Y , Y/N, my baby girl," he whispered, nipping the shell of your ear. "your cunt feels good. i love you. i love you . .  love fucking you," he mutters dumbly as he kept shoving his cock deep into you. you knew he was still—at the very least—still keeping in mind to not crush you, because the bicep arm around your neck barely took your breath away. 

his thrusts did.

every push in knocked out the breath out of your lungs, cunt nicely wrapping around his girth. no matter how much prep he gives, you always ended up squirming because the stretch was like no other. it reached places no toy or finger ever could—the tip threatening to bully its way past your cervix. 

his head is placed between the nook of your shoulder, breathing heavily against your neck as his stubble grazed over your skin. your skin is littered with bites, especially the shoulder that was within his teeth and tongue''s reach; the outline of his teeth covered in a thin layer of his spit. 

you weakly held on to his forearms, feeling yourself creaming around it. but you just can't help it—the drag of his cock against your walls was so fucking heavenly, you could have sworn you saw white for a brief moment. 

"p , pretty cunt's all messy, baby," 

chris stammers, shamelessly moaning into your ear and immediately latching on to your earlobe, can't keep his mouth unoccupied for more than a minute. especially if it's you. he can't stop kissing you. can't stop tasting you. 

can't stop fucking you.

you were helplessly pinned beneath his body—and you didn't possess half the strength to push him off. it made your cunt twitch thinking about being trapped under him, forced to take the pleasure, forced to take the stretch of your cunt . . . 

"f , fuck! don't—don't do that. 'm gonna cum, b , baby,"

"h , huh?"

before you could question him any further, his hips began to pick up the pace, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin intensified. "pleeaaaasepleaseplease, Y/N," he's acting like you were stopping him from whatever he wanted to do. "please. just let me cum in you. let me breed you. fuck, fuuuck. 'm gonna make you a mama," 

there's no thought behind every word he's spewing, and his body's moving purely on feral instict. "you'd. hnnngh. oh my god—make s , such a good housewife." chris is whimpering, fucking yearning to breed you as he envisions you as his wife. mrs. redfield. you can't speak a word in his filthy rambling, but it wasn't like you had the coherence to butt in. your eyes are rolled to the back of your head and your mouth would be wide open if his arm and bicep didn't mush your cheeks together.

"oh . . oh fuck. fuck. i l , loveee you. love you . . " 

he's lost count from how many times he's confessed how much he wants to marry you, how much he loves you, and who actually keeps count, anyway. all it mattered was your pleasure and his as he pounded you into the mattress. "love you too, chris! hnnnng—♡.ᐟ" 

there's something with the way you said it, or maybe he's just that in love with you. he can't help it, his arm tightening around your neck as he buried himself deep with a loud whimper of your name. you gasped for air, feeling even more full. 

but you didn't get to cum. he doesn't feel the familiar flutter of your walls, or the feeling of you soaking his cock for the nth time. who was he, if he couldn't fuffill your needs?

even in the midst of his overstimulation, he's trying his best to keep thrusting into you. "b , baby. please, need you to cum for me," he breathed out between gasps. "gotta be a good husband. gotta make you cum," like you hadn't been squirting for him since before he had you pinned under him. 

"y, you don't have t—!"

your words are knocked out from you as he began to ram into you harder. 'till your ass was red. 'till he's finally breaking the protective barrier of your cervix. 'till you're

"cumming—♡.ᐟ "

your eyes are wide open, mouth agape and dripping with spit. your cunt's helplessly gushing for him, clenching down on him ridiculously tight. "that's it. that's it, baby. such a good baby. you're so fucking m , messy, jesus chriiist," 

your mind's gone, and so is your remaining strength, body completely enervated as your head rests on his arm. nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, Chris began to place kisses on his jaw. The sensation of his rough stubble confirms you're awake, albeit feeling very lightheaded and almost dizzy. 

you don't know how long you two laid there. It was probably just minutes, but felt like hours, up until chris had pulled away from you. you feel his cum ooze out of your cunt, and you whine. 

"shh. shh. 'm here, baby. i'm here," 

chris helps flip you over to your back, and you groggily wrapped your arms around him. "are you alright?" chris caresses your cheek, before bestowing a kiss on your forehead. "i'm here. i'm here. do you want water?" 

you shook your head, only pulling him to you. he settles you under his arm, securing you with another muscular arm wrapped atop your body. "did you mean it?" you murmured weakly against his chest. chris only rubbed your back. "i wanted to be a husband?" you can feel the rumble of chris's chuckle. you nod. "of course, baby." chris tilts your chin up, tucking your locks behind your ear. 

"i love you so much. i'd love to spend the rest of eternity with you,"

you hid your face, embarrassed. "chriiiis," your boyfriend laughs at your cute reaction. "you're so cheesy," "whaaat, it's true!" you puff your cheeks out. "i'd love to spend the rest of my life with you too . . . "

good. because the ring was just resting nicely in the back of your nightstand's drawer.

ALBERT WESKER .ᐟ

wesker is strict. firm. what he says goes, beyond shadow of doubt. so when he tells you to not run your shoe up his leg, don't do it. There's a disappointed click of his tongue when your disobedience persists, your stilettos rubbing against his shin. "this is a professional dinner, Y/N." you can't see it, but you can feel his eyes piercing daggers into you. "hm?" you blink up at him so deceivingly sweet and innocent. "i know. the food tastes great, no?" you can't help but grin when you see him clench his jaw. 

wesker is strict. firm. 

but that's because there's nothing he enjoys more than breaking his brat into a drooling, mindless mess.

smack! 

"f , four!" 

you're settled on wesker's lap, legs parted as per his request ( demand, actually. ). 

you held on to your lover's arm for dear life, glancing over at your reddening cunt that Wesker's been leaving harsh spanks on. "are you gonna be good, pet?" you nodded vigorously, trying to hide the fact that your eyes were tearing up from his mean treatment. 

"really? I don't believe you."

SMACK! 

"i , i promise I won't do it again, sir!" you cried out. shutting your eyes, you braced yourself for the next slap that was to come. But you feel him slide two fingers into you instead. "you're fucking wet." Wesker spat, curling his fingers up. it squelches lewdly, your cream smearing all over his palm. "see?" It's obvious where Wesker was looking, because his other hand ensnares your jaw once he realizes your eyes had rolled back to your skull. 

"see?"

you swallowed nervously, nodding. "look at your messy fucking cunt." without any further warnings, he began to ram his fingers knuckle-deep into you. not slow or merciful, no, none of that. hard and forceful, as if to burn a lesson into that mischievous head of yours. 

"are you gonna keep acting like a brat?" Wesker growled, squishing your cheeks together with his hand. "no, sir! 'm s , sorry!" Wesker laughed at your pathetic apology, purposefully grazing his palm against your puffy clit. "I could almost feel bad for you." he cooed mockingly. "but this is your fault. the consequences of your actions." 

he continued to thrust his fingers—quite inhumanely, one might add—the room filled with the filthy harmony of your whimpers and the squelching of your pretty pussy. you're trying your very best to keep your eyes open, but the best you could do was look down at your soaking folds with a lidded gaze. it didn't help that you could feel your climax quickly building up.  "what do you say, slut?" he forces you to stay conscious, tapping your cheek with his four fingers. his thumb instinctively traced your spit-soaked lips. you're no better, parting them as soon as you feel the phalange. 

"i'm shooorry! w , won't do it again! i'll — ohmygod — be good!" 

your body shakes, a garbled squeal escaping your pretty lips as his fingertips curl up to your most sensitive spots. his gaze is to you, his pretty girl, how gorgeous you looked falling apart on him. Of course, he doesn't miss how you roll your eyes back uncontrollably. Wesker lets this slide, because he adores how fucked out you look. 

"look at me. Are you gonna cum, pet?" Wesker tantalizingly grazed the pad of his thumb against your clit. you look so pretty looking up at him with wide eyes as he urges you closer to your climax. "y , yes sir!" you whimpered. "yeah? gonna make a mess on my fingers, pretty?" you nodded, and oh my days, the way you held on to his forearm and nuzzled your face into him was so fucking adorable, wesker can't help but feel the warmth spread on his cheeks. 

too bad he's still gotta discipline you. 

just as you were about to reach that delicious release, you squealed as he harshly pulled his fingers out. It leaves your cunt empty and aching. "bad girls don't get to cum on sir's fingers." 

instead, he smacks your cunt again. you clench around nothing, eyes watering as desperation ran through your veins. "pleasepleaseplease," the spanks you once dread, you were now looking for; the infliction on your clit enough to prolong your incoming orgasm. 

"wanna cum. please sir, wanna cum. pleasepleaseplease," you tugged on his arm, and wesker lets out a shaky exhale, not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. raising his hand, he strikes your cunt again, and you yelped. "you . . you like this, pet?" he won't lie, you're making his facade break."yes! please, please, i just wanna cum," you sobbed, salty tears completing your fucked out look. wesker spanks your cunt again, and again, and agai—

you screamed, with a sinful bliss trickling down your back as you arch. you're gushing everywhere, all from his mere spanking. his head dips to claim your lips, tongue first; and it doesn't surprise you when you feel him slowly stuff your mouth as his tongue elongates.

you suck on it, no matter how messy it made you: chin dribbling with sloppy drool, lipstick smearing everywhere . . . your cheeks hollow, and you groaned when his fingers began to rub figure eights on your clit again. "mffh—!" still overstimulated and aching from your ruined orgasm, your hand encircles his wrist. but you didn't possess half the strength to pry his hand away. 

he slides his creamy fingers again back into you again, back to mercilessly fingerfucking you. his tongue only muffles your cries of pleasure, and wesker can't stop literally fucking shoving his tongue down your throat. 'specially when he feels your pussy tighten up as he fills your mouth. it's so filthy, wesker knows he's fucking fantasizing about this for days on end. his cock aches, leaking pre just for you. 

only for you. 

much to your displeasure, he's emptying your mouth; monstrous tongue retracting and at the very least, allowing you to breathe. "you're gonna cum for me again, pet." he purred, licking the sweat dripping on your cheek.

"i forgive you, pretty. only if you do one thing for me." he nipped at the apple of your cheek, a grin gracing his face. you whined when he pauses, but it was to probably give you time for your mind to function. 

"who owns you?" 

you feel that flutter in your tummy, and you mutter a soft: "you do . . . "

"sorry, can't hear you. speak up, pet." 

and as if to further tease you, his fingers begin its harsh thrusting again. "y , you do!" you said in one breath, in between wails and gasping. "i do, what?" he smirked smugly, chuckling against your cheek. "you— nghggh! you—!" "i . . i what, pet?" "you own me! you own my body!" 

and of course, your body knows; cunt quivering for the second time and squirting all over his digits again. "there we go, pretty. oh, your pussy's so messy." his thumb caressed your clit, trying to draw out your orgasm. you've been so good for him, he thinks you deserve it.

"there we go. i know, i know. s'too much, isn't it?" his comforting voice is so misleading, like there wasn't a lot of sadistic, unholy thoughts running through his head right now. "shh, shh. you did so well." he kindly helps you ride out your high with gentle strokes of his fingers. 

you're exhausted, mass completely resting on his frame as you tried to catch your breath. you huffed when you slowly feel him sliding his fingers out of you, the simplest movements still too much for your poor, overstimulated cunt. 

"you did so well,"

you're lucid, for the most part; feeling him turn you around so you would be facing him. He rubbed your curves, tracing the dimple on your lower back. 

"sleep, my love. i'll be here." 

JACK KRAUSER .ᐟ

you can fight with krauser with just about anything. krauser, with his hot-headedness, and you, with a similar temper and a venomous tongue. your arguments, especially the big ones, always ended up ugly. no matter how many times he held you, kissed your tears away, and apologized and vice versa, it never failed to send you crying or him walking out. 

and you don't even know why you both keep coming back to each other. giving each other chances like tomorrow will be any different. 

"i fucking hate you. i fucking hate this!" 

this was new. krauser's brows narrow together in a scowl. despite the hurl of insults you've thrown at each other, you never . . .  you never said that to him.

did you really mean that? did he really lose you this time?

you jabbed a finger on his muscular chest. "i'm fucking tired of you. i'm sick of you being so fucking angry all the time and so fucking possessive and so—!" you only just realized what you said when you saw the hurt look on krauser's face. why did he look so . . . sad? it made your heart sink in your stomach. "say that again," you begin to take a few steps back as krauser's hulking frame loomed over you like an impending doom. 

" j , jack, i—,"

your back hits the cold wall, and a pair of muscular arms cage you in place. you couldn't mutter another word when he suddenly threw your body over his shoulder. "hey!" you groaned. 

a hand slapped your clothed rear, before the both of your figures disappeared into the darkness of your bedroom. 

⟡

"say it again, i fucking dare you!"

you pretty much drooled all over the bed as krauser's big, strong hand held your head down. it made breathing more difficult, movement more restricted, but he was successful in shutting you up—which was probably krauser's goal. each slam of his cock was harder than the last, and your poor body can't keep up with krauser's rough treatment.

"you're jus' a big fuckin' brat." he growled, emphasizing each word with a harsh thrust, pinning your wrists behind you. his grip was bruising. crushing, even. and very, very angry.  "need'a—oh . . . —fuck some manners into you, clearly." your moans are muffled, and you hear an amused chuckle from behind you; and without warning, he yanks your hair and forced your body to a difficult arch. . you were so beautiful in krauser's eyes.

"y'got somethin' to say, bitch?" the timbre of his hoarse voice is enough to send shivers down your spine; and of course, his pace was more merciless, more . . . . inhumane. how you were still able to form sentences—if you could call it that—you didn't know. "h, haateyouuu!" you grunt out in one breath. "no you don't, baby." both your scalp and body finds relief as he released you. if he hadn't held your hips in place, you would have collapsed on the bed. 

there's a lot of shifting behind you that you don't see, up until he forces you to flip and lay on your back. once again, you're met with that stupid shit-eating grin on his handsome, scarred face. before you can even utter an insult, you feel him deep in your fucking guts. 

he's amused at your stupefied expression—wide, gorgeous eyes with tears beading at the ends of each strand of lash. your face alone could have sent him into an orgasm, but the fun can’t end so quickly, especially when he wasn't done proving his point.  “fuck, baby. you’re so—hnngg—wet,” with that, his rough pounding resumes; the bed creaking with every reckless thrusts he gives you. 

"oh, fuck!" you cried out, instinctively reaching out to wrap your arms around him—except, it ends up having both of your wrists pinned above your head. it's quick, and you don't even register it until you realize you had nothing to scratch on. "l , let me g- oh—♡! y, you fucking prick!" "stop fucking talking, you fucking brat!" spiteful is he, his pounding picking up pace and force. it made you dizzy. made your brain mush. made you moan for him louder; and as soon as he sees that pretty tongue lull out, krauser naturally has to spit into it. and you, well, naturally swallow it. 

the way you whimpered for him, how your body was so vulnerable for him, and only for him, and so submissive under his mercy . . . it triggers something animalistic in krauser. something primal. 

he feels the cold trail of drool drip from the side of his lip, and just as you thought he couldn't fuck into you harder, he was. his tip's literally pressing into your cervix. "you're g , gonna break me—♡!" krauser keeps rutting into you like a starved beast, the pleasure so fucking addicting. 

"gonna—," his words are interrupted by low growls and heavy breathing. "gonna fucking ruin you. you're mine," your pussy shouldn't reflexively clamp down on him, but it fucking does, and he loves it. "take it back."

you blink.

. . . huh?

"i didn't —god, fucking stutter. take it back!" "i don't — ahnnn— hate you!" krauser shakes his head. "no, no. t , that's not enough," you squealed when his thumb rolls over your clit. "say you love me," the added sensation makes you scream. "say you fucking love me, please," krauser whined, and you didn't know you liked that until . . now. 

"quit fucking around, Y/N!" he impatiently snarled, grabbing your thighs and pushing it to its limit; 'till your ankles were beside your ears. "w , wait—oh fuuuuck—♡!" stars fill your vision as soon as his cock slams back into you. "say you love me, c'moooon, don't be fucking stubborn," 

how could you say it, when each slam of his hips drew out nothing but fucked out whimpers from you? "i love you," yet, he fucked you like he hated you. and you despised the way it made your cunt flutter as it promises both you and him an orgasm. 

"yeah? you like that? i love you," as if your folded position wasn't difficult enough, him leaning down to capture your lips just makes you even more breathless. but you kiss him back. your lips yearn for him like air, and the best you could reciprocate it was a mere glide of your wet muscle; to which krauser didn't really mind. 

"i love you—! fucking love you, love f , fucking you." he says, thrusts frantic and relentless. "love , , l , love—," you pant, nails sinking into his forearms. "i love . .  fuck, fuuuuuck— i love you too—," you've never heard krauser whine that loud, but he does, sloppily thrusting into you as his orgasm takes over; cumming the hardest he's ever been.

"come on, baby. cum for me," he whimpered, face contorting in overstimulated bliss as he continued his thrusts. seeing him this needy and desperate to make you feel good made your stomach flutter.  "i love you," he whispered, placing kisses on your temple, on your forehead, anywhere his lips could reach.

"s , soooo fucking much,"

the way the tip grazes again and again and fucking again on your most sensitive. deepest parts makes you squeal, makes you wail. only he could reduce you to this whimpering mess. "'m close, baby. right there. don't stop—♡!" 

ragged breaths and feral grunts turn into high-pitched whining, krauser's cock aching from pleasure. too much pleasure. but his hips won't stop moving, can't stop driving himself deeper into you. "love you—love youuu," you babbled mindlessly, completely forgetting whatever grievance you held for him, and vice versa. his cock aches. throbs. the sensitivity should be too much, but his hips keep slamming into you.

and judging how he doesn't look any less tired . . . you were in for a long, long night.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA .ᐟ

carlos pretty much worships the ground you walk on. he thinks you're the best thing that has happened to him, and my god, this man will spoil you rotten. the moment his eyes laid upon your gorgeous face, he knew he didn't want to live in cold, cruel, Y/N-less world. after your second date, he's made up his mind. he will marry you, in due time. 

for now, he can settle with the domestic life of living together, doing your groceries together, cleaning the house to your favourite songs and slow dancing mid-vacuum.

"hey babe?"

"yeah?"

he switches the vacuum off, the shiny foil atop your night table catching carlos's eye. if he's not mistaken, this was your birth control. upon a closer look, it seemed . . . untouched. was this an old batch? did you forget? he looks over at you, putting away your clothes in the closet. 

"babe, it's your birth control pills!" he exclaimed, brows narrowing with concern. "have you been taking them?" it was only when you've finished up your chore did you turn to your boyfriend, looking at your pills, and then at his face. "those are my contraceptives, yes . . and no, why?" the lack of worry in your voice calms carlos a bit, blinking at your nonchalance. "but, babe—," "wait, i haven't told you yet?" your laughter mixes with your words. "told me what?"

you took it upon yourself to close the remaining distance between the both of you, cradling his face with your warm hands. "carlos,"—you reached over for your medication and put them aside. "i've stopped taking birth control, baby. since like, two weeks ago. i thought i told you, but i must've forgotten . . . " 

there's so many thoughts running in his head. thinkin' how gorgeous you'd be during your wedding day. when you're finally pregnant and bearing his child. how he'd be calling you his wife and not his girlfriend anymore. how he'd be a husband to you, and a father . . 

"—earth to carlos. hellooo?" 

"what?"

he blinked, realizing you were waving a hand in front of his face. "you said something about wanting to start a family some day . . it doesn't have to be now, but if it happens, then . . " you shrugged. 

what do you mean it doesn't have to be now?

it has to be now. 

⟡

he has to plunge his cock balls deep in you now. even if his previous creampies were already leaking out from your pretty hole. he needed to breed you over and over again now. he reveled in the sight of you; with your hair sticking to your skin from how much you were sweating, how your tits bounced with every thrust forward with his hips, how your lips were hanging agape from pure bliss . . you are so, so pretty in his eyes. prettier when you're thoroughly fucked and bred.

carlos could only groan, feeling your cunt twitch around his cock. he kept watching you writhe, kept watching you squirm beneath him because he just fucked you so good—but the squelch reverberating from beneath you catches his attention. hazel eyes begin to trail down your body, down to your pretty cunt where you were the messiest. slick smeared to wherever it could, and your poor clit was puffy from how many times he's ran a thumb over it . . .  but that didn't seem to stop him from doing so for the nth time. just to see your legs quiver, to see your eyes roll back to the pits of your skull.

"carlooos—♡," you whined, hips bucking against the sensation. "'m here, mama. jus' let it out," he mumbled in his pussydrunk stupor. seeing how you couldn't even mutter his name properly did things to carlos—fueling his lust was one of them; his grip on the back of your knees become tighter—and the slamming of his hips was more brutal, trying to fuck his cum back in you like he wasn't already doing that for the past hour. 

"ah! ahn—you're so rough!" you whimpered, and carlos only lets out a dry chuckle. "h-haah . . i-i have to be. or else you—," his words are abruptly interrupted by a loud groan as he forces his cock as deep as he could, just for emphasis. "you . . won't be knocked up," he whined, balls twitching as it ached to cum into your womb again. "c'mon, mama. get pregnant. fuuuuck, jesus christ—," 

he could feel himself drooling as he ruts into you desperately. "c'mere, cariño," you went from having your knees pressed to your chest to being completely folded in half. his face is buried in your neck, and his hands—no—his arms have moved to cradle your head, his chest taking over for him as your legs rest nicely on his shoulders. his tongue is all over your flesh, lazily lapping up your neck and sweat. the new position has him fucking deeper—literally. feels like his tip was gonna force itself up in your poor cervix. it was suffocating, but. but you craved it. you yearned for it. 

you needed it.

his hips were clearly hurting and fatigued, because every brutal slam down into you would result to him grunting and whining. his tongue's cold against your neck, spanish words whispered against it while he busied himself pounding away at your pretty, creamy pussy. nothing was stopping him from breeding you, from stuffing you full, not even the pain that pooled both in his hips and your thighs.  

"your pussy’s so goooood, fuck . . love you, i love you. dios .  . dios mio, no puedo dejar de follarte. quiero d , dejarte embarazada, mi amor." you couldn't understand his mindless spanish babbling—not with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. "wh , what . . ?" "shh, baby." —it's followed by more spanish muttering that you can't follow. not that there was anythin' going on in that pretty head of yours. 

[ god . .  oh my god . . i can't stop fucking you. i want to get you pregnant, my love. ]

there was nothing going on in his head, either. just the thoughts of you knocked up—everyone would know you belonged to him, that he fucked you, that you made him a father—it only fueled the never ending lust that he had no strength to resist. "oh my fucking god, baby, fuuuck!" his face scrunches up as he speeds up, and you didn't even know that was fucking possible. your eyes widened, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening 'til it snapped; your orgasm spraying all over yourself and him as you screamed. "so messy, h-haah, f, fuck!" "carlos, m, my cunt—!" you could no longer find the words to say to him, stars filling your vision. you swore you were going to pass out. 

your cunt was sensitive, obviously, but carlos was beyond overstimulated—it hurts—his cock hurts after cumming and cumming and cumming in you, but the way your creamy walls hugged his cock was enough compensation. he won't stop. can't bring himself to stop. because everytime his cock slid back into you, your pathetic cunt only squirts in small fountains, dragging out your orgasm and only allowing him to slide in and out of you easily.  "gonna cum. 'm cumming," his whines grew sharper, getting higher and higher as his orgasm neared. his hold around your head tightened, and you could only bite and lick at the skin of his chest as his frame practically eclipsed over your frame.

"Y/N—god. 'm cumming. gonna breed you. gonna—g, gonna get you pregnant! dios mio, Tu coño se siente genial—," stuffing your fucking cunt to the fullest, he cried out your name as he came; this was the hardest he's cummed, experiencing heaven as he sloppily rode out his orgasm with shallow, sloppy thrusts. he greedily wanted more, but god, he's sure he can't cum anymore after this. he's not even sure if he can lift his hips to pull out his veiny, girthy cock out of your dripping pussy. 

you're barely conscious—so close to passing out when you feel a hand on your cheek, fingers worriedly tapping you awake. "baby?" his voice echoed in your ears, and you opened your heavy lids, vision adjusting to the sight of him. "come back to me," he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses. "carlos." you chuckled weakly. you only just realized that you did pass out, because you don't remember carlos putting down your legs or covering you both with your comforter. "i got worried." carlos lays beside you, pulling you beside him. "slept good?" he teases, and you only grumbled. you feel his stubble graze your brow as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "did i get too carried away?" "you don't say," you both chuckled. "'m sleepy," you mutter, wrapping an arm around him. and the only response you got from him? a light snore. you can't help but laugh to yourself. 

end.

A/N: such a wild prompt TT but i hope you enjoyed! thank you to my beta reader, @lafox-chan for proofreading and helping me!

and here's a blooper while we were working on it!

[saddleups]

ok hear me out but surprising wesker with one of those "naughty nurse" costumes...

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 4.7k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. ALBERT WESKER X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . implied boss x employee dynamic ( could be read in tandem w/ office diaries ngl ) . nurse/doctor roleplay . switch!wesker . oral ( m! & f! receive ) . overstim p_rn w/o a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . to be completely honest i'm not sure if he'd gaf. HOWEVER, he would appreciate the effort and tease you for your desperation. i'm editing office diaries so he's been on my mind ( *crowd boos* ) i wrote this embarrassingly fast !!!

The mansion was quiet, the kind of oppressive silence that settled in your bones. You could hear the fait hum of the heating system, the distant ticking of a clock, but nothing else. Even the air seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the monotony.

Doctor Albert Wesker worked often, far too often, leaving you alone to roam the mansion. At first, you found ways to entertain yourself—ordering luxuries with his credit card, drifting through empty rooms in search of anything that might entertain you—but even that had grown stale. You’d known what being his girl entailed; Wesker had been clear about the terms. He’d wanted someone obedient, someone who would accept the lonely hours and unspoken rules.

And, for the most part, you did.

But you had needs, desires that sometimes grew louder than his rules. And tonight felt especially cruel. He was home, tucked away in his office locked in his endless work. The sound of his voice, low and gravelly, filtered through the heavy door. It was a welcome intrusion, a reminder that he was home, but it also served as a harsh reminder of just how unreachable he was. Doctor Albert Wesker. Your boss, your lover, was locked away in his work, buried under a mountain of papers and calls, and you were left to fend for yourself once more.

You sighed, the sound barely audible, and turned your gaze to the robe draped over your bed. It was soft, luxurious, the kind of thing you’d never have bought for yourself, but Wesker had insisted on it.

“To keep you warm,” he’d said, though the gesture had been more about control than comfort. Still, it had its uses.

With a determined set of your jaw, you slipped the robe on, feeling the fabric brush against your skin. Beneath it, you wore the costume you’d ordered on a whim—a playful nod to the “naughty nurse” stereotype, complete with a little cap and the faintest hint of lace. It had been a gamble, but one you were willing to take. Tonight, you needed him to notice you, even if it meant forfeiting your pride.

Gathering your courage, you padded toward his office, the heels of your shoes tapping softly against the polished wood floor. The closer you got, the louder his voice became, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You paused outside the door, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Taking a few quiet steps forward, your heart pounds in your chest. Wesker's head snapped up at the sound, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. For a brief moment, there was confusion in his gaze, as if he couldn't quite place why you were here interrupting his work.

But it'd been so long, the look on your face hinted at your frustrations. He was a smart man, the recognition dawned, and his lips curled into a faint, imperceptible smile.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone cool and detached, as if you were nothing more than an interruption.

“I think so,” you replied, your voice low and sultry. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been working so hard lately. I wanted to check in.”

Wesker’s eyes flicked to the sash of your robe, which you’d begun to toy with absentmindedly. The material had already started to slip open, revealing a glimpse of the risqué outfit beneath. His gaze lingered there for a moment before returning to your face, a calculating gleam in his eye.

“Is that so?”

You nodded, letting the robe fall open just a bit more, enough for him to see the high hemline of the skirt, the curve of your leg. With each step closer, you felt more confident, more in control. This was what you wanted—no, it's what you needed. To be seen, to be noticed, to be desired.

“Poor thing,” you murmured, your voice dripping with sympathy as you placed one hand on the back of his chair. “You look so tense, Doctor. I think you need someone to take care of you.”

Wesker’s hand paused mid-note, the pen hovering above the paper. He studied you for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he laid the pen down and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Alright,” he said, his voice smooth and sardonic.

“Show me what you can do.”

A thrill shot through you at his words, at the way he’d accepted your game so easily. Without another word, you slipped fully into character, fingers grazing his shoulders as you began your “treatment.”

“First, let’s get you relaxed,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. You began to knead his shoulders, pressing into the muscles with just the right amount of pressure. Wesker sighed, the sound almost content, and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to your ministrations.

You worked your way down his back, your hands moving with purpose, squeezing and releasing the tension in his muscles. What a difficult man he was, keeping his composure. But the way his brows furrowed, his breath hitched. It fueled your determination, making you want to push him further. To see how far you could go before he cried out a moan.

“How does that feel, Doctor?” you asked, your voice sweet and innocent, a stark contrast to the heat building between you.

“Fine,” he rumbled, his voice thick. “I think you can do better.”

You grinned, a spark lighting up your eyes. “Oh, I intend to,” you replied, leaning in closer until your lips brushed against his ear. “But first, I need you to do something for me.”

Wesker’s eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto yours. “What’s that?”

“Unbutton your shirt,” you commanded, your voice firm but gentle.

“I need to get to the source of the problem.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your intentions. But then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and began to undo the first three of them.

You watched in rapt fascination as the fabric parted, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the ridges of muscle flexing with each movement.

When he was done he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “Happy?” he asked, his tone mocking.

“Very,” you purred, your hands moving underneath the fabric to rest on his bare shoulders. “Now, let’s see what we can do about those knots.”

You began to massage his chest, your fingers digging into the hard planes of muscle, seeking out the tension that lurked beneath the surface. Wesker groaned, the sound deep and guttural, and pressed himself into your touch, offering himself up to your service.

He muttered your name, voice strained. “You know just how to…”

His words trailed off as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. “How to what, Doctor?” you whispered, your breath fanning out against his skin.

Wesker shuddered, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as if trying to ground himself. “Distract me,” he growled, his voice rough.

“Good,” you murmured, nipping at his earlobe before pulling back to meet his gaze. “I think that's just what you need.”

Finally, you removed your robe revealing the naughty nurse costume in all its glory.

Wesker’s gaze lingered on your outfit, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes flicked over the lace details and playful cap. Though he didn’t break his cool exterior, you caught a glint of amusement in his eyes—a hint that he found your little act amusing, though he’d never admit it outright.

“Quite the unique uniform,” he drawled, his tone laced with that familiar edge of sarcasm. “Did you really think a costume like this would work on me?”

His eyebrow arched, and though his words were teasing, his eyes betrayed a flicker of interest, lingering just a bit too long on the curves revealed by the costume. He was giving you just enough of his attention to keep you guessing, that subtle taunt characteristic of the ever-cool Albert Wesker.

You met his gaze, undeterred. "Considering you’re still sitting there letting me 'work,' Doctor, I’d say it’s working," you shot back with a sly smile.

His smirk widened, the faintest hint of warmth entering his steely demeanor. “Is that so?” His hand moved from the chair to rest lightly at your hip, pulling you slightly closer as he leaned back, maintaining his air of authority even as he allowed himself to indulge.

“I suppose I’ll let you finish… but be warned,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “I don’t often tolerate interruptions.”

A subtle thrill coursed through you, a mix of anticipation and defiance at being so close to him after all this time. You held your ground, leaning closer still.

“Then I’ll make it worth the risk.”

Wesker’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of challenge and fascination. He didn’t speak further, simply allowing his gaze to travel over you in silent approval, that slight smirk never leaving his lips as he let you continue, fully aware of the effect he had on you, and savoring it.

With a confident stride, you led Wesker to the plush leather couch that sat against one wall of his large office. It was a stark contrast to the rigid orderliness of the rest of the room, a place where he could unwind if he ever allowed himself to. Tonight, however, it would serve a far more pleasurable purpose.

Wesker followed you with measured steps, his eyes refusing to leave your form as you walked ahead of him. The playful sway of your hips in the tight nurse outfit seemed to draw his gaze like a magnet. When you reached the couch, you turned to face him, a impish glint in your eyes.

"Sit," you commanded softly, pointing at the couch with your index finger.

He complied without hesitation, sinking into the cushions with an almost regal grace. His shirt, though slightly unbuttoned, clung to his broad shoulders. The fabric taut over muscles that spoke of relentless physical discipline. Kneeling before him, your hands gently brush against the sides of his thighs as you positioned yourself comfortable on your knees.

Your fingers traced lazy circles around the hem of his shirt, teasing him with anticipation. Wesker stared at you, completely transfixed. His hand resting casually on the armrests, you could see the tension coiling beneath his calm exterior.

"You seem wound up, Doctor," you purred, a hint of amusement coloring your voice. "Let's see if I can help you relax."

With deliberate slowness, you began to unbutton his shirt, peeling back the layers of fabric to reveal the chiseled expanse of his chest. Each button undone excited you, the sight of his bare skin sending a jolt of desire through you. His chest rose and fell steadily under your scrutiny, a testament to his self-control.

Once his shirt was open, you let your hands roam freely over his torso. Your fingertips danced across his pecs, tracing the ridges of muscle with reverent precision. The warmth of his skin was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, and you reveled in the sensation of touching him so intimately.

A low growl rumbled in Wesker’s throat as your hands continued their exploration. His eyes were half-lidded, locked onto yours with a mixture of anticipation and challenge.

"Is this all you've got?" he murmured, his voice husky with restrained need.

You chuckled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his sternum. "There's plenty more where that came from," you assured him, punctuating your words with another kiss just below his collarbone.

His breathing grew heavier as you shifted your attention lower, your hands slipping beneath his belt to find the growing bulge in his pants. Wesker’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to the sensations you were provoking.

You undid his belt with practiced ease, popping the button on his pants and pulling down the zipper. The sound echoed in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the slow, deliberate pace of your movements. With gentle pressure, you coaxed his erection free from the confines of his boxers, releasing it into the cool air.

The sight of his hardened length made your pulse quicken, a flush of heat spreading through your body. You wrapped one hand around his shaft, feeling the smooth skin and the subtle veins pulsing beneath your touch. Wesker inhaled sharply, his eyes snapping open to meet yours once more.

"Naughty nurse, huh?" he teased, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "I didn't realize they provided this kind of treatment."

You grinned up at him, feeling a surge of confidence. "Only the best for my favorite patient," you replied, giving his cock a slow, deliberate stroke.

His breath hitched at your touch, the tension in his body ratcheting up even further. You took your time, exploring every inch of him with your hands, your mouth hovering just inches away from the tip as you breathed hot air over his sensitive skin. The contrast between the warmth of your breath and the coolness of the room heightened the sensations, driving him wild with anticipation.

Wesker narrowed his eyes, he tilts his head slightly, as if challenging you. "Is this really what you think I need?" he queries, his voice low and laced with playful authority.

"Trust me," you reply, meeting his gaze with confidence. "This is exactly what you need."

When you judged him sufficiently aroused, you leaned in and enveloped the head of his cock with your lips. The taste of him—salty, masculine—filled your mouth, igniting a fire in your core. You swirled your tongue around the crown, relishing the way his muscles tensed beneath you as you took him deeper.

Wesker groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the couch tightly. His cock pulsed in your mouth, the rhythmic throb matching the beat of your own heart. You teased him mercilessly, sucking and licking with a teasing rhythm that kept him perpetually on the edge.

As you pleasured him, you couldn't help but marvel at how utterly captivating this man was. Even in this vulnerable position, he radiated an undeniable aura of command, as if he were simply indulging in a momentary lapse of control. It only fueled your desire to push him further, to watch him unravel completely under your ministrations.

Your lips leave his cock with a loud pop, and you greedily stick your tongue out to slap against the thick girth before you. “Good boy,” you praise, watching as Wesker's eyes darken with need. You can almost hear him whimper as you unbutton your costume just enough to reveal your heaving breasts.

With a devilish grin, you guide his throbbing length between the soft mounds of flesh, feeling his pre-cum leave a slick trail in its wake. As he thrusts into the warm embrace of your breasts, you squeeze them tightly around him, a thin strand of saliva escaping your pursed lips to lubricate his pulsing shaft. Unable to resist any longer, Wesker drives his hips forward, plunging deeper into your cleavage. “That's it,” you encourage, reveling in his submission. “Such a good boy for me.”

Tongue flicking against the sensitive tip of his throbbing cock, you can feel him losing control. His body tenses with every thrust into your cleavage and his breathing becomes ragged. You can sense the desire burning inside him, even as he tries to maintain his cool facade.

But you know better. You know that Wesker needs this just as much as you do. As you release your grip on your breasts, his thrusts come to a sudden end. A desperate groan escapes his lips as he realizes that his release has been denied.

"Do you want to fuck me, Doctor?" Your voice is dripping with seduction, taunting him until he can't take it anymore.

He looks at you with defeated hunger in his eyes before swallowing hard and answering, "Yes." The hunger in his voice matches the fire in his eyes as he moves closer, ready to claim what he desires most.

With that one word, the air thickened with an intoxicating mixture of dominance and longing. Wesker’s hand gripped your chin, his thumb wipes the salvia staining it, before he tilts your gaze up. You meet his smoldering gaze as he pulls you closer, the tension crackling between your bodies like electricity. You invite him into your space with an enticing arch, “Then take what you want,” you coax softly, your voice a sultry whisper.

Wesker's composure breaks like glass under pressure; he surges forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. The heat radiates off him, intensifying the unusual power dynamic in the air. His lips crash against yours—demanding, possessive—as if attempting to stake his claim not just on your body but your very essence.

"Let me show you how it's done," he rasped, the command laced with urgency.

You felt a thrill shoot through you at his words—his danger, his power, amplifying every pulse of desire within you. With a swift motion, he guided you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. The gleam in his eyes promised something far more than indulgence; it was a challenge. Wesker’s composure breaks like glass under pressure; he surges forward, his hands gripping your waist to pin you in place. The heat radiates off him, his lips crash against yours—demanding, possessive—as if attempting to stake his claim not just on your body but your very essence.

As the kiss deepens, you can taste the faintest hint of desperation mingling with his usual resolve. Your fingers dig into his hair, urging him on as his hands explore your form with fervent determination. Wesker’s grip is unyielding as he holds you close, an unsatiated hunger driving him to devour every inch of your mouth, the taste of passion strong enough to drown in.

Wesker's hands slid down your sides, rough yet gentle, as he pushed your costume up and out of the way. Your skin tingled where he touched you, the heat radiating from him almost overwhelming. He leaned closer, letting his lips brush against your ear as he whispered darkly,

“You’re going to scream my name tonight.”

This is what you wanted—his surrender wrapped in a shroud of lust—and there’s a wild thrill at having brought a man of such power to this moment of bare vulnerability. Breaking the kiss, you look into his eyes—intense pools swirling with desire and something deeper.

“I thought you were too busy,” you taunted, low and teasing. You could feel him hard against your thigh—imposing yet utterly captivating—and it fueled your own mounting arousal.

“I never said I was above a little distraction,” he replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk.

Wesker’s fingers deftly pulled your costume further up your thighs, exposing your bare skin to the cool air in the stark contrast to the fire burning within you. The slight chill felt rousing against your heated flesh. Wesker’s eyes darkened as they traveled over every inch of you, and suddenly you were no longer just teasing him; he was drinking in the sight like a man starved.

“Dearheart, you've made quite the mess, haven’t you?" He asked, his voice low and sultry as his hands gently parted your legs further apart. You could feel your pulse quicken as his breath tickled against your skin, anticipation winding tighter within you like a coiling spring.

“Only for you,” you breathed back, taunting him further. It was exhilarating to see him so unraveled—yet still so dangerously in control. The power shift ignited something primal deep inside both of you.

With that, he dove forward, catching you off guard as his mouth latched onto your most sensitive spot. You gasped, back arching as he dove deeper into your cunt, his tongue swirling expertly around you, igniting sparks that raced through your entire being. Each flick and thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure cascading over you, pushing you toward the edge in an spellbinding spiral of pining.

You dug your nails into the leather of the couch, desperate to ground yourself as Wesker's mouth worked with remorseless precision. The heat pooled low in your belly, a dark fire igniting with every moment he lavished on you. He consumed you entirely, his slow torture blissfully relentless—an exquisite torment that made your breath hitch and your body writhe beneath his skilled service.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured between kisses along your inner thigh, his voice dripping with wickedness. You could only nod fervently, unable to form coherent words, the mere act of breathing becoming a challenge in the wake of such pleasure.

“Speak pet,” he commanded softly yet firmly, his eyes locking onto yours as he paused to hover just above you—a predacious gleam dancing within those depths.

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, struggling to maintain control even as desire threatened to engulf you whole. “I want more… I need more.”

With a wicked grin spreading across his face, Wesker surged back into action, fingers working in tandem with his mouth, thrusting deep into you as he continued. The sensation punctuated the air with an urgent tempo, a rhythm that echoed every thundering heartbeat in your chest. Each movement felt like an electric jolt, sparking fire through your veins.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he growled, the determination in his voice vibrating through you like a deep bass note. His fingers curled inside you, drawing gasps from your lips as he found the perfect spot. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to that precipice where you could finally let go of everything else.

“Doctor…” His title was a prayer and a plea, spilling from your lips like raindrops in a summer storm. You gripped his hair tighter, urging him on as pleasure surged hotter and brighter. It was dizzying—both intoxicating and grounding at the same time.

But Wesker wasn’t done yet; instead of succumbing to your mounting desire, he withdrew just slightly, teasing you as he stared deeply into your eyes. “You wanted me to claim you,” he murmured darkly, “then I will do it right.”

Wesker roughly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a feral hunger in his eyes as he gazes down at you. Your head hangs over the armrest of the couch, your body manipulated into position by Wesker's strong hands. Your legs are bent and spread, one foot planted on the polished floor while the other is lifted high over his shoulder.

He positions himself between your thighs, slowly sliding his glistening shaft up your slick entrance, coating it in your sweet essence. The mere sensation of him inside you makes you whimper and squirm, but Wesker relishes in your arousal and helplessness. With agonizing slowness, he eases himself deeper, watching with dark satisfaction as his length disappears completely into your trembling form.

“Sing my name, dearheart.” He growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your core. “I want to hear it on your lips as you come undone.”

His hips begin to move in a slow, steady rhythm- deep, lingering thrusts that push you higher and higher. With each stroke, Wesker seems to burrow deeper into your depths, possessing and claiming you on a primal level. His grip on your hips tightens as he picks up the pace, driving you both closer to the edge of sanity.

“Al-Albert!” The name escapes your lips in a ragged moan, a plea for more and release. His only response is a low growl of approval as he ramps up his relentless thrusts, pounding into you with single-minded focus. The room is now filled with a symphony of wet flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by your moans and his growled commands.

"Good nurse," he pants, glistening sweat forming on his brow as he leans over you, pressing his hot breath against your ear. “Let the world know who owns this delectable pussy.”

"Oh, God, yes," you moaned, arching your back. "Dr. Wesker! It's yours! I'm yours!"

Wesker's eyes glimmered with a feral intensity as he absorbed your words, each syllable wrapping around him like silken chains, binding you more thoroughly to him than any promise ever could. He leaned into you, the heat of his body suffusing the air between you; it was almost overwhelming, and you felt your senses heighten. The scent of sweat mingled with the rich, earthy smell of leather that clung to him like an aura, enveloping you in a cocoon of passion.

“Yours,” he repeated, letting the word roll off his tongue slowly, savoring it like a fine vintage wine. With every thrust, he established his claim anew—each powerful stroke resonating through your core and melding with your very essence. You felt as though he were drawing out something innate within you, awakening instincts you hadn't known you possessed. Your body responded eagerly to his demands; every gasp and moan that escaped your lips was a testament to his power over you.

Wesker’s fingers dug into your flesh, leaving heated trails behind as he relentlessly thrust deeper and deeper. Each time he pressed against that delectable spot within you, stars burst behind your eyelids like fireworks. You felt dizzy from the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you in waves, each more fierce than the last.

Your voice is trapped in your constricted throat, unable to escape as guttural moans turn into high-pitched whines and desperate shrieks. He's forcefully extracting something that lay dormant within you for far too long, igniting a need that almost feels violent.

Your body writhes under his rough touch, craving the release that only he can provide. In a frenzy, you beg for him to paint his seed inside you, your back arching so far that you feel weightless on the couch, your chest pressed against his in a heated embrace.

The sensation of your hardened nipples rubbing against his tender flesh causes Wesker to surrender a boyish moan, lost in the intense pleasure of your bodies colliding. Your roles in this game fade away as both of you reach the edge of sanity, desperate to break free and unleash the carnal desires that have been building between you.

Wesker grabs your face, locking eyes with you as he punctuates each thrust with a deep grunt. He slips his thumb into your mouth, and you eagerly welcome the intrusion, sucking on it with reckless abandon. A dark chuckle escapes him as he revels in your unbridled passion. "You're clenching," he taunts, causing furrows to form on your brows as you try to grasp onto any sense of control amidst the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

“Just come already!” You demand, nails digging into his flesh as you pull him closer. “I can feel it, Doctor. Your cock is twitching inside me.” Between breathless pants, you beg for more.

His cool facade crumbles as he gives in to his instincts. His once immaculate appearance is now disheveled, his hair tousled and sweat glistening on his skin. As your bodies move together in a frenzy, his moans fill the room.

“Don’t stop,” you plead, your voice desperate and raw.

He obeys, pushing deeper inside you as his release washes over both of you. Your walls clench around him, never wanting to let go.

“Please don't pull out,” you plead with him, desperate to keep him connected to you for just a little longer.

He obeys your command, his warmth mingling with yours as the two of you reach an explosive climax together. Sweat drips down both of your bodies as you revel in the intense pleasure that courses through you both.

In unison, you tumble onto the leather couch, your bodies entwined. Lying atop Wesker’s steady, rhythmic breaths, you press soft, lingering kisses against his chest and collarbone, savoring each touch. His hand, once so firm and rough, now rests gently against your hair, stroking softly, a quiet acknowledgment of your hard work.

“You passed your check-up.” You say, breathless.

[yanderestarangel]

Wesker has consumed my mind entirely, so could I leave an request for him?

Albert wesker as the father of readers boyfriend, at first he didn’t pay much attention to them but the more often reader came by, the more his thoughts started to become intimate and every time reader would have a fight with his son, wesker would use it to make them doubt their relationship with his son.

Really love your fics, if you won’t do this request it’s fine, but really can’t wait to read more of your story’s! Hope you’re doing alright and take care of yourself 🫶

— HEADCANONS RE || WESKER FATHER-IN-LAW X SON-IN-LAW READER

TW ┊dark smut, ftm reader, aggression, toxic relationship, age gap, v!sex, cheating, eat out, blowjob, 69, sexual recording, sensitive themes, dead dove.

WARNING : no negativity please. If this isn’t your sort of content, block me and move on with your day<3

— SFW AND NSFW

In Wesker's eyes, at first you were just another toy for his son, you were already the third boyfriend his son had in less than three months — so the scientist didn't even look at you, just greeting you out of politeness and isolating himself again in his office to continue his work."It won't last long, I bet." Albert said to himself, referring to yet another boyfriend of his son, but he didn't get involved in matters... After all, he was a man too busy for trivial things.

You obviously tried to be a polite boy and get along with your father-in-law, but all your attempts failed as the blonde didn't even look at you — and if he did, you couldn't speak because he simply wore those sunglasses 24 of the day. It was frustrating for you every time you received a rude and rude response from your own father-in-law, making you give up on getting closer to him.

But despite his attempts to avoid you out of pure disinterest, he couldn't deny that you were getting into his routine much more than he wanted to admit. His son always brought you to spend the weekends and have lunch at his mansion, so finally the older man's eyes noticed you.

You were a kind and sweet man, different from his son who was always the same as his personality — only a little worse considering his extreme elitist upbringing. But not you, you were simple and sweet, it even surprised him how stupidly innocent you could be sometimes.

And his also knew that it wouldn't take long for his son to start a fight with you because of his stupidity.

The older blonde started to have unhealthy thoughts about you, your presence was like a balm for him, but also like an inferno that threatened to burn everything and everyone around him.

He began to wonder what it would be like to squeeze your thighs, how your soft skin would feel in his big, calloused hands — how beautiful you would look moaning and begging him to go deeper into your beautiful body... How he would be better than his son being a companion to you.

He really tried to push those thoughts away and tried to approach you like a real father-in-law would, apologizing for his previous behavior and that he was just stressed about some company matters.

But the way your face and doe eyes lit up at simply being treated well by him made the heat in his core gradually rise — every fiber of his being was pulsing and burning like a fire... Only he knows how much he controlled himself to doesn't push you against the nearest wall and make you his right there.

Albert tried to suppress the feelings of lust that were slowly threatening to rot his mind, but every time he saw your smile, even those caused by his son, he wanted to do some crazy things and take you for himself. "Fuck, I'm too old to act like a dedicated man controlled only by his desires." Wesker thought as he rested his temple on his closed fist and watched you on the other side of the room, in his mansion, hugging his son and watching a movie. But he knew that moments of peace like that would end soon, especially with his son's toxic behavior — he had already predicted this, but he never thought it would take a considerably longer time compared to other times.

Even though it took a while, it happened, you fought with your boyfriend and practically the entire gated community heard the screams. Wesker was still trying not to interfere in your two lives because of the feeling of wanting to have you for himself — but after the fifth fight where you were slapped in the face by his son, he felt obliged to break up the heated argument and take you to a safe place away from there.

Before you said anything he just took off his sunglasses and for the first time looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. "No no, you don't need to say anything kid... I know my son was a horrible man and an asshole to you. I'm on the right side, just because he's my son doesn't mean I'm going to blind myself to the horrible things he did you hear." Albert said it loud and clear, then his cold, rough hands found your face and made you focus on his face.

"Listen to me, pretty boy, you deserve someone better than him." He spoke with a tone that made you feel goosebumps, the nickname "pretty boy" came out practically erotically from his thin lips and the look with the older man's dilated pupils didn't help much with your confused feelings.

With each fight that happened in your relationship, you felt closer and closer to your father-in-law. Even starting to frequent Wesker's mansion when your boyfriend wasn't there, purposely just to be alone with the older man.

Between smiles, conversations and not-so-unconscious looks, you quickly found yourself sitting on the older man's thighs while both of you were breathing faster — unable to hold back any longer, Wesker had given in to his desires and finally kissed you, his lips on yours, in a warm and desperate kiss — his hands going to your ass squeezing the soft flesh and quickly soft moans coming out of both of you, the erection in his pants wouldn't let him lie that he wanted more than just kissing his own son-in-law. "Come on lad... I'll show you how much you need someone older who really knows how to take care of you."

Wesker's cock was thick and pulsing enough to make your brain shut down with each thrust, moaning and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as your legs trembled around his muscular torso — your pussy dripped onto his bare, skin-tight member. skin made you feel the thick, dirty tip of precum kissing your uterus and threatening to fill you at any moment. "Fuck--! open that pussy wider for me, good boy..." Wesker moaned as he grabbed your thighs and squeezed the soft flesh there, leaving marks all over it.

Having sex with your own father-in-law was dirty and wrong... But it was incredibly hot. Unlike your boyfriend, the older man really focused on your pleasure.

He smiled huskily as he saw you turn into a trembling mess barely able to suck his dick while you did a 69 in his office. "You have a charming and pretty pussy, boy," He moaned, licking and wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking hard as he felt your hand on his cock, stroking it gently. The light pressure on his dick was pleasant and arousing as it also fueled his desire to make you feel as good as he could. He kept alternating between his fingers inside you and his tongue on your clit, and every now and then, he'd let a finger slip into your ass, and a moan from your lips encouraged him to continue doing so. "Fuck, you're tight, so, so tight..." Wesker's moaned, his hands squeezing your thighs, wanting you to hold onto him, to let him know that you were enjoying it. "My son is an asshole for letting such a needy and bitchy boy like you run wild, I'm glad I got you for myself, right?"

The two of you fucked like two animals in heat, even with your boyfriend at home — every time you waited for him to sleep and ran to Wesker's office. "Do you want me to help you with this my angel?" The scientist laughed as he fingered your pussy with two thick fingers, rhythmically thrusting into your g-spot and making you roll your eyes and hold on to the wooden table that you were leaning against, making the tall man laugh.

"Shhhh, don't make any noise, be a good slut and keep those beautiful moans bottled up ok? You really are sensitive boy- holy shit, it's just my fingers and you're already squirming for me to touch that cute pussy of yours." He snapped his fingers against your pussy, a sting, but not enough to make you shudder too much as his attention was diverted to your clit, flicking it with his thumb, trying to tease you even more and make you beg for him. him again. "You want me to fuck you don't you? Then you better beg for it boy." Albert pronounced each syllable fiercely, unbuttoning his pants and once again exposing his thick, pulsing member — you could smell the musk and the heat radiating from his groin, making you drip even more and barely be able to think beyond begging him in a slurred manner to fuck you soon.

"My son should see what a whore his boyfriend is for me, you know?" He teased as he buried himself without warning into your wet heat, covering your mouth with his hand as his thrusts were animalistic but with a concern that his cock would hit all the right spots on your sensitive wall.

Fingers, tongue, dick, sex toys, everything you wanted he used for your pleasure, taking you to orgasms that you didn't even know could be so pleasurable. Besides his look conveyed more than a simple desire for you — he wanted more, a lovers' affair wouldn't satisfy him, he needed to steal you from his son.

And how to do this? Simple, record a short porn video and send it to him later — cruel? Sure, but your father-in-law was sick and obsessed with you enough to not even care about his own son.

"Look at the camera, come on my prince, be a good slut and fix your eyes on the lens." Wesker pulled your hair as he made you look at the recording instrument with your face messy and flushed with pleasure — your pussy squeezed and milked the older man's cock as he made sure to record you from every possible angle.

"Smile darling... Tell him who you belong to." He grunted in your ear, hearing you moan his name repeatedly as he increased his thrusts to the point of making your groin hurt and hot, mixing your juices and his cum that made your thighs even wetter. He held his head tightly to the camera, as a cruel smile spread across his own face. “It looks like you lost quite a boy, I never thought you were so stupid, son... But you can leave it, daddy will take good care of your... Ex-boyfriend." The blonde laughed as he came again inside your pussy, seeing you moan drunk of pleasure for him — Wesker loved you in a distorted way, but unlike his son, he really saw a future with you by his side. Like his boy, as it had to be.

[lilmoonbunny]

Never knew I needed you so bad; S.T.A.R.S Wesker

Chris cheats on the reader, Wesker saves the day (and touches you better than Chris ever did).

[AO3]

Warnings: Cheater!Chris, smut/NSFW.

NSFW: Choking, thigh-riding, making out, hair pulling oral (m!receiving), fingering. Please let me know if I forgot anything else :D

The relationship between you and Chris had always been difficult, to say the least. Constant arguments, distance outside of work, and so on had it a tough one, and perhaps that was why you weren’t entirely shocked at the events that unfolded that night.

It was one of those nights where the S.T.A.R.S crew - minus Captain Wesker who had told you a simple ‘perhaps’ when you had asked if he would be joining later - had ventured out into the public and gone to a bar.

Whilst Chris favoured being sat at the bar with Brad, you instead favoured sitting in a booth away from the masses of people to talk to Jill, unaware of Chris talking to a blonde-haired woman rather than Brad as they shared a drink.

It wasn’t unusual for Chris to talk to people at a bar, of course, and it never would have bothered you before. That was until you glanced around to look for your boyfriend, only to see him lip-locked with someone that wasn’t you.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but damn, it still hurt, especially when you watched him pull away with a smile rather than a look of regret.

You were embarrassed, upset, but most of all, you were hurt, all whilst Jill watched you cycle through emotions after witnessing the event in real time.

“I’m leaving, sorry…” you whispered to your friend who gave you an understanding nod and a pat on the shoulder before walking you to the door and wishing you a good night before she left, walking over to yell at Chris who was soon rushing out of the door.

“Y/N!” He called, catching your attention. You turned to him for a moment before rolling your eyes and turning away, looking for a vacant cab. “Baby, please. I didn’t mean to.”

It was at that moment that you spotted your Captain approaching.

“Chris, I really don’t want to hear your excuses. We are done, just leave.”

Wesker had reached you both by now yet stood silently.

“Baby, c’mon, just hear me out.” Chris pleaded, but all you could see was the lipstick marks that littered his neck.

“No, I don’t think I will. I came out for a fun night, and you left me to make out with another woman.” You spat, unaware of the way Wesker was glaring at Chris as you spoke beneath his usual sunglasses.

Chris paused, blushing upon realising his Captain was currently watching the altercation.

“I believe this conversation should be over. Perhaps you should leave, Chris.” Wesker interrupted before you could cuss Chris out even more, even if he did deserve it.

Chris simply nodded, heading back inside.

“Thank you,” you whispered once Chris was left. You smiled up at Wesker who simply nodded.

“Allow me to drive you home.”

There was no arguing with Wesker, you knew that much, so you simply smiled again. “All right.”

The drive was quiet, yet comfortable oddly enough. Captain Wesker was a man of few words, and he was clearly deep in thought, so you didn’t wish to bother him unless he spoke to you.

“Chris did not deserve you,” he said, not taking his eyes from the road.

Your gaze moved to him, taking in the sight of him as he drove. His grip on the wheel was tight, veins popping from his arms. You weren’t entirely sure why he was clutching the wheel so hard, however. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform either, understandably so, of course. Instead, he wore a white shirt, jeans, and a black coat. It was a good look on him, really good, you thought to yourself before cursing yourself for thinking so; you and your boyfriend had just broken up.

“You think so?”

Wesker nodded. “I know so.” He replied.

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled sadly, eyes slowly moving back to looking out of the window.

“Albert is fine right now, and there is no need to thank me.” Wesker finally looked at you, taking a deep breath to compose himself as he did so. Maybe he liked you more than he should, but that was irrelevant, and not to mention a complete waste of his time; it could also ruin his plans. “We are here.”

You nodded at his words as he pulled into the parking space outside your home, undoing his seatbelt.

“Allow me to walk you to your door.” He said, looking over at you as you wordlessly nodded again.

You two silently walked to the door, Wesker watching as you pulled your keys from your bag with shaking hands. He wasn’t entirely sure whether you were shaking due to the breakup or his presence, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued about which it was.

As you opened the door to your home, flicking the lights on, you paused for a moment, facing your Captain.

It was a bad idea, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it as the words fell from your lips.

“Do you want to come in?”

Wesker paused at the offer, clearly caught off guard; he knew what you meant.

“I shouldn’t,” came his response. He swallowed. “I shouldn’t.” He repeated. Whether he was trying to convince you or himself, he did not know.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry,”

Wesker hesitated, taking a deep breath before leaning forward to place a rough kiss on your lips, your eyes widening as he did so.

His hand landed on your shoulder, thumb caressing your neck as he continued kissing you. Your hands reached his own shoulders, pulling him closer as he walked into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind you both.

Was it a bad idea? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

The moment the door slammed shut, one of his hands fell to your waist, lifting the fabric of your t-shirt just enough to slide his hand to feel your skin. His hands were cold, leaving goosebumps at the touch.

He squeezed at your waist, his thumb that was caressing your neck moving to hold your jaw as he pulled away to breathe, spit falling from both your lips.

You panted, eyes wide as he stared at you beneath his glasses, both of your hands on each other. Your hand moved to his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. He removed his hands from you for a moment to slip off his coat, tossing it to the floor without a care in the world before both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back into a kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, drawing a moan from you and he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Without a warning, he spun you around, shoving you against the wall, one of his hands pressed against the wall beside your head whilst the other slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your torso and beneath your bra to grab at your breast. As he toyed with your hardening bud, your hands moved to fiddle with his belt.

He pulled back. “If you are going to do that, I suggest you show me where your bedroom is, dear,” Wesker said.

You blushed at the nickname, stuttering out a simple follow me before leading him to your room, his hand on your lower back as his followed.

Neither of you bothered to shut the door as his lips met yours again in a sloppy kiss whilst you pulled him by his shirt to your bed, feeling him guide you to lay on the mattress once you reached it.

Wesker’s lips moved from yours to your neck, sucking at the skin in a way you knew would leave marks; you didn’t care, you only cared about him right now.

His scent was overpowering your senses, soft moans falling from your lips. Your hands reached up to tug at his hair while his knee moved to press against your core, and he smirked as he felt you grind against him.

You were completely at his mercy, and he was loving every second.

“Good girl,” he muttered into your neck, placing a kiss before speaking again. “Get yourself off on my thigh.” His voice was deep and laced with lust.

You nodded eagerly as you desperately began rutting against him, hands landing on his firm shoulders whilst his moved to remove your shirt. His touch was cold against your warm skin, fingers lightly dancing along your torso as he lifted your shirt above your head before discarding it.

Wesker’s hand came to grasp your chin, thumb running across your lower lip. A smirk formed on his lips as your lips instantly parted, allowing him to shove his thumb inside your mouth. He watched beneath his sunglasses as you began sucking on his digit, occasionally circling it with your tongue; God, he wanted to feel you on his cock.

As though reading his mind, your grinding halted and your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his toned torso, before one hand moved to undo his belt and the other began massaging his cock. Wesker’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, unaware of your gaze on him. He wanted… no, he needed you. He had for the longest time, and with Chris out of the way, he was free to make you all his.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, dear,” he muttered into your ear, and he truly meant it.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered at his deep voice, his breath hitting your ear.

“Please?”

“Please, sir,”

Wesker smirked at your obedience. “Good girl,”

A blush ran up your cheeks as you climbed onto your knees, hands landing on your Captain’s shoulders to guide him to lay against your mattress. He watched closely, freeing himself from the restraints of his clothing, leaving him only in his shirt which you were quick to unbutton, revealing his abs.

Your hand trailed from his cheek, dancing across his visible collar bones, down his stomach, and to his freed cock. Wesker’s own hand moved to entangle itself in your hair, grasping it in a way to keep the strands from your face as you leaned down, taking the tip into your mouth, tongue circling.

With a gentleness that he didn’t know he had in him, Wesker lowered your head further onto his dick, head leaning backwards in pleasure as your tongue ran down him as he did so, your cheeks occasionally hollowing in a way that had a quiet groan falling from his lips. His hand tugged on your hair, a moan falling from your lips and vibrating his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and laced with lust, and his head thrown back.

With each movement of your tongue, Wesker’s grip on your hair became tighter as he occasionally tugged on the strands. Perhaps it was to make you moan on his cock, or maybe it was to keep some semblance of power whilst you were ruining him with your mouth.

Applying a light pressure to your head, he watched as you bobbed your head further down his length, doing your best to take as much of him as possible. The moment he hit the back of your throat, he swore he could have came just from your gag.

“Just like that. Good girl,” despite him fucking your mouth, Wesker couldn’t resist gently stroking your hair with his thumb at which you hummed, sending vibrations and pleasure through his body.

You pulled back, an innocent smile on your swollen lips as he stared at you. Your hands reached up to remove his sunglasses, smiling sweetly as you did so – he almost smiled back – to reveal his beautiful eyes.

Wesker was quick to press his lips against yours once again, flipping you beneath him with a strength you never expected him to possess. His unbuttoned shirt brushed against your naked stomach and covered chest.

“I think we should remove this,” Wesker’s hand moved the front of your chest, “don’t you, pet?” Without a warning, his hands tugged on your bra, ripping it in half and tossing it God only knows where.

“I liked that one,” you whined.

Wesker moved to nibble at your ear before speaking. “I’ll buy you another, don’t worry, or maybe I’ll just keep you as my little pet and you won’t need one, hm?" You blushed at the thought.

A moan left your lips as his mouth quickly moved from your ear to bite at your neck, darkening the marks he had left earlier; he wanted Chris to realise how lucky he had been.

“C-Captain,” you shuddered, and he froze at the title.

Wesker pulled back, staring at you with such an intensity that you worried you had done something wrong as he tightly gripped your chin.

“Say that again,” he demanded, the noise only making your panties even wetter.

“Captain,”

He smirked, leaning close to your lips in a way that had you believing that he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t, even when you leaned in. Instead, his breath hit your lips as he muttered, good girl, staring down at you with lust-filled eyes before finally kissing you.

A harsh bite to your lower lip had your mouth opening, his tongue instantly finding its way into your mouth, melding with your own. You moaned into his mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat, gently squeezing, gauging your reaction. When you leaned into his grip, he tightened it.

One hand landed on top of his that was around your throat. You weren’t pulling him away – you didn’t want him to stop – you clearly just wanted to touch him; he almost smirked.

Combined spit connected both your parted lips as he pulled away, hand still wrapped around your throat.

“Do you like that?” He asked, tightening his grip again.

You nodded.

“Use your words, pet,” he said, loosening his grip just long enough for you to respond.

“Yes, sir,”

This time he smirked, grip tightening again.

Wesker’s free hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, thumb beginning to circle your clit, your head throwing backwards against the cushion as he did so, eyes fluttering shut. He watched you closely, enjoying the sight in front of him. God, you were beautiful. How did he resist you for so long?

His finger dipped beneath your slit, gathering wetness before gently pushing one digit in. He wasn’t sure when the last time you had been touched was and he definitely did not want to hurt you. He was planning to ruin you for everyone else, not ruin you in general. He was determined to make you only want him after this.

A loud moan left you fell from your lips as his fingers entered you, his thumb still toying with your sensitive bud. Touching you was easy with how wet you were, fingers moving slowly with ease until he was satisfied that you were ready for another finger which was all you seemed to need.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, breathless and sweating. “I’m close.”

“Wasn’t planning to, dear,” he muttered, placing an uncharacteristic gentle kiss on your shoulder as he continued his movements. “Go on, cum for me. Be a good pet and cum on my fingers.” His words were all you needed to push you over the edge, eyes shooting open and stars filling your vision as you covered his fingers in your slick juices.

Wesker hummed in approval, pulling his fingers away and placing them on your lips. He watched in satisfaction as you parted your lips, cleaning his fingers for him.

“So good for me,” his praise had you blushing, looking away shyly. “Don’t look away from me.” He said, tilting your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Wesker leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Get some rest, dear,” he said, an almost visible smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But what about you?” You said, guilt filling you as you realised that he didn’t cum.

He paused for a moment, shaking his head as though it was a stupid question.

“Tonight was about you, don’t worry about me.”

“B-but-“

“No buts,” he looked at you with a stern face, one that had you silence immediately and nod. “I’ll be here in the morning if you still want to help.”

Your eyes widened at his words, having expected him to leave afterwards. You froze and he shook his head in amusement, a smirk covering his lips.

“Yes, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused again. “You can’t get rid of me now.”

[bitbugbites-re]

𝙻𝚊𝚙 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 | 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

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

tumblr exclusive!

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

gender: gn! reader

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

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

𝕬𝖑𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖙 𝖂𝖊𝖘𝖐𝖊𝖗 (any rendition)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

he also feels embarrassed laying in such a position

&

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

he secretly likes it

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖔𝖘 𝕺𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖎𝖗𝖆 (re3r)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

Using your lap:

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

&

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

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

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

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

Falls asleep on you really easily and snores loud as FUCK

& NSFW

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

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

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

𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 (re: death island)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

& NSFW

Not much, if any nsfw things result from this scenario

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

𝕰𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 (re7, re8)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re2r)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

&

Tells you almost every time how comfortable your thighs feel.

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re4r)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

&

He still compliments you on how soft your legs are

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

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

𝕷𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕾. 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 (re6)

Giving you his lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

Using your lap:

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

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

&

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

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

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

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

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

& NSFW

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

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

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

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