#resident evil hunk x reader

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

me at 2am looking at every goddamn site in existence hoping to find a crumb of HUNK smut:

[ditzybuzzy]

Hi! Love your blog!

Idk if you're still doing requests but if you get the chance can you do a spicy Hunk x Umbrella Scientist?

Thanks :)

To Trust or To Not be Trusted

Resident Evil HUNK x Umbrella Scientist

Warnings: female reader, p in v, face fucking, light bondage, rough sex, chair sex, fingering, choking

A/N: This is just a part of a longer piece. I have decided to post the full/uncut version on my new Ao3: kbuzzy

I give credit to my lovely fiancé who actually helped me write this. Never would I have thought he'd write a smut fic with me, but here we are. I hope you enjoy~♡

You look into the small compact mirror placed inside of your hand, staring at your reflection. You let out a deep sigh.

“This is the big day,” you tell yourself. “This is the day I’m going to do it.” You have said this before…

You think of your plan and the benefits of it coming to fruition.

You stare at yourself once again in the mirror. You take in your new appearance. It was unlike you to care enough to put on a full face of makeup, but things were different today.

You sit back into the office chair at your desk. You turn your computer on and go to your emails. You have four unread emails from the same person. You hover over them, but don’t bother reading them. Next, you look to your phone positioned to the right of the computer and see that there are four voicemails all from the same number. You ignore these as well.

You check the clock in your office. “7:32 a.m.”. Most people didn't show up until 8:30 a.m. You’ve timed them a few times. Most work doesn’t really start until 9 here.

You turn your chair around and scan your small room. The room is probably 100 square feet. There’s plenty enough room for you. The door is directly across from you positioned slightly right of center with three clear windows to the left of it. The blinds are thick and cover the complete windows. You can see the shadows of people moving outside, but they can’t see in. To the left of the windows is another wall. This wall hosts a bookcase which you keep some of your medical and research books from college and some of your knickknacks. To the right of the door is another wall which hosts a small safe, which only you know the password, a small testing area with very few supplies, and a small beanbag chair which you like to read your books from.

You turn your chair back around. “I can probably get a little more sleep,” you think to yourself. This isn’t something you haven’t done in the few months you’ve worked here. You figured it would be easier to show up early and take a short nap then to rush and be late.

You get up from your chair and move to the bean bag. Some people may think it’s unprofessional to have this in your office, but you find it to be very useful for times like this.

You sit down and the beads form around you. They feel comforting and supportive of your body. You sink into the bag, and it takes you in. You begin to drift off…

Bang! Bang! Bang! You wake up startled. Your heart is pounding. You look to the door. Bang! Bang! Bang! The door vibrates with every blow.

“Shit,” you think to yourself. “ Did I sleep too late? I wasn’t planning on this happening this soon.” You look at the clock. “7:56”. You had barely been out. The person at the door is early, and judging by the banging, they don't seem happy.

You get up and make sure to adjust your skirt and tidy up your hair as much as you can with this little of notice.

“One second!” You yell in a charming voice.

 You walk to the blinds and take one slightly back. You see a man in tactical gear who is holding a sub-machine gun in his left hand by the handguard. You look at his face and he is wearing a black gas mask with red lenses, and a black helmet. You can’t see his face, but you can tell he’s pissed.

You go to the door and questions briefly whether you should open it. “This is what I wanted,” you say to yourself and grip the handle. You open the door.

HUNK they call him. You recognize him from the previous times you have seen him. You have also done basic research from your computer to find out some information on him. You haven’t actually got to meet the man that they call the Grim Reaper yet.

“Um… Can I help you?” You say almost trembling over your words.

 “You know what I am here for…” He says in a stern yet almost disappointed voice.

You feel fear come over you. You tremble over your next words. “Oh, this must be about the documents,” you say.  

His body stands rigid. If you could see his eyes, they’d stare through your soul.

“Tell me,” he begins to say. “Why would you go through all this trouble? From what I understand, you are brand new,” he says with an aggravated tone.

 You look at him. You can’t help but eye him up and down to try to understand if he’s going to take his frustrations out on you.

 “I… Well… I was trying to do my own research; I didn’t… mean to harm anyone. I also felt like I could do some good with those documents,” you fumble your words.

“You know research on your own time is not authorized here. Regardless, I am here for my documents. Give them to me and I will make this all go away,” he says to you in a stern, demanding tone.

You shift your body weight to your left leg and pop out your hip. “I can give you your documents back. I only briefly read them. They seem to want to keep your information very secret.” You sound more confident in this. “But how do I know you won’t kill me?” you ask.

 “I have no intention of killing you,” he groans out. “If you hand over the documents, we can both go on our separate ways. No harm, no foul. Your higher-ups may have issues with you taking those, but that’s not my concern.”

Voices start whispering down the hall. HUNK steps through the door forcing you to step back. He closes the door behind him.

“I’ll give you the documents. Don’t worry about that,” you say to him. “But I need to trust you first and I don’t want to lose my job.”

 You can see yourself in his red lenses. Whatever fear it had looked like you had must have faded or sunk itself deep inside of you because you cannot see it on the woman in the reflection.

“How do I make you trust me?” He asks.

“Well, I have a few things in mind that I can think of,” you again let your eyes wonder over his body. You can’t help but notice his muscles and think of how this man could probably kill you in a split second.

“I want to..." You pause, eyes trailing down to his crotch. "Help you,” you finish. You try to avoid being so direct, but from what you have read on the man, he is very direct and does not like games. “I know that you have a stressful job, and based on your files, you don’t have a lot of down time. I want to make you feel special for at least a few minutes if not more.”

There is a silence for what must have been only a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. He traces your body with his head.

“You want to fuck me?” He asks directly in a stern and deep voice. “I can’t say that I’ve been asked that before,” he mutters.

“Well, I was trying to be more dis…” Without waiting for your full response, he grabs you by your throat. His body presses against yours.

With his right hand wrapped across your throat, he pushes you backward into your seat. You can barely breathe as his gloved hand prevents you from speaking. He then takes his left hand and grabs the collar of your white coat. With ease, he pulls the coat, and the buttons pop off exposing your chest. Your white lace bra covers your breasts. With his right hand still wrapped around your throat, he uses his left to grab white zip ties off his belt. You can’t help but think he has done this before, maybe not in the same circumstance though.

He releases his right hand from your neck and moves his right forearm to the hand’s former spot. This allows you to gasp momentarily for air.

HUNK grabs your right wrist first and zip ties it to the arm of the chair. You weren’t going to fight him anyways, but even if you tried to fight this move, it would have been useless as you realize he is much stronger than you. After he is satisfied with the tightness and security of the zip tie, he moves his left forearm to your throat and ties your left arm. Your arms are locked in place and you can’t help but know that he is a professional.

He releases your throat and steps back. “Don’t make too much noise,” he says in a deep raspy voice. His mask muffles his words. You can tell he is serious.

“No promises,” you say in a teasing tone.

He steps back towards you and grabs your lace top with his right hand. He pulls the top upwards towards your face and your soft breasts slip out of the lace.

HUNK then takes his left gloved hand and puts it around your face. He caresses your face and then, with his thumb, traces your lips. He circles your plump lips and begins to move them up in down methodically. You begin to feel warm inside, your body feels warm, and you slightly open your mouth inviting his thumb inside.

He sticks his thumb in and out of your mouth each time pulling saliva with it. He takes his right hand and places it on your bare breast. He gently grabs your breast and massages it with his hand. He then traces your curves downward toward the top of your skirt.

You open your eyes and stop sucking for a second to see that he is unzipping his pants. You can see his cock bulged against the seam. With his right hand, he reaches in.

He fishes around in his pants for a few seconds before he pulls it out. You glance at it for a second and realize that he's painfully hard. He grips his dick with his right hand and pulls his left hand away from your face. Saliva trails his thumb and falls down your chin.

He takes another step towards you. He stands tall enough that his cock is the same height as your head. He uses his hand to stoke his length while you watch. You can see his veins and his pulse vibrating through his shaft. He moves it towards your face.

You open your lips and allow him to enter. He's warm and stiff. He starts off with doing shallow thrusts into your mouth. You suck until your lips are sealed around him.

He moves his right hand to the back of your head and begins thrusting deeper into you. You gag, he doesn’t stop though. He continues to go deeper and deeper until tears begin forming at the corner of your eyes and running down your cheeks. Your mascara runs down your face and neck. He thrusts all the way to his base. You feel him in your throat each time.

Eventually he pulls his cock out of your drooling mouth and steps back. You gasp for air and let out a cough filled of spit and pre-cum. You feel the stickiness run down onto your chest and over your breasts. You notice that his cock is still hard and that he hasn’t came yet.

With little break, he reaches for his knife and unsheathes the blade. He again steps toward you. With the knife in hand, he goes to your left arm and cuts the tie holding it, and then transitions to the right and does the same. You look at your arms and see that there are red marks where the binds once were.

Before you can analyze the potential wounds, your legs are thrown up in the air close to your head. He props his hips against yours. His wet cock is on your stomach and his thighs are holding you in place. You try to regain your breath as he reaches again for two more ties. Once he finds them, he ties each of your legs to the chair arms like he did your arms.

Once secure he takes his hips and cock back and stands straight once again. He looks down at you. Your legs are almost behind your head, and you feel exposed as he can see straight up your skirt. He leans over and takes his left hand and places it slightly above your right breast. With his right hand he reaches into your skirt and slides your underwear to the side. He traces you up and down until he eventually settles on your hole. He sticks one of his gloved fingers in and slowly goes in and out. You begin to let out a small moan and your head rolls back.

He takes his left hand and moves it off your breast and to your mouth. “You have to be quiet,” he says harshly. He covers your mouth with his hand and then inserts another finger. You moan into his hand as he begins to move the two fingers back and forth inside of you. He then takes his thumb and places it onto your clit and rubs from side to side while pulling at your insides with his index and middle finger.  

You begin to feel your body contracting as he does this. He continues going in and out with his fingers until your body can't take it anymore. Your hips arch upwards until a warmth stretches against your body and your legs shake. You want more from him, though. You want him to finish too.

He removes his hand from your mouth and guides it back to his cock. He takes himself and presses it against your clit and works his way down with it to your opening. He teases around with it by pressing it in just a little bit, but not fully inserting himself.

“You better fuck me hard,” you whine out.

He looks up at your face for a brief second. You can only assume he's smiling. Smiling at how pathetic you sounded.

Like your mouth, he starts off with little thrusts and eventually works his way to fitting his large cock inside of you. He thrusts so hard that the chair begins to squeak. He begins to grunt with each thrust after a few minutes until he pulls his wet cock out and rubs his shaft against your clit. Your cum covers his shaft and runs down his pants.  

“I want you to cum on me,” you say to him through moans. You grab your breasts and squeeze them together. You open your mouth and give the man a target.

He thrusts hard and quick against your slit and unleashes three large streams of his semen onto you. Only some of the liquid lands in your mouth. The rest lands on your face or on your chest and runs down your sides.

HUNK once again stands straight up. He collects himself and puts himself back together. He once again grabs his knife and cuts your restraints.

“Now then, how about the documents,” he says to you. He says it so casually as if he didn't just fuck you.

You take a moment to collect yourself and clothe yourself with the little clothes you have. “It’s in the safe,” you say while gesturing with your head. “I’ll unlock it for you.”

You get up from the chair and walk to the safe. You input your combination and the door pops open. You dig through the few files in there and find one with red letters that spell out “CLASSIFIED”. You hand the document over to him and he looks it over very briefly and then looks back at you. Without saying another word, he turns for the door and opens it. You expect him to look back and maybe say something to you, but he does not. He walks out the door and swings it closed behind him.

“That was fun,” you say to yourself. You go to the lab table that you had set up earlier and grab a sample tube and syringe. You take the syringe and press it against your chest and suck up whatever liquid you can and press the liquid into the test tube. You place a sample label onto the tube and put it in one of the open racks. You then turn back to your chair. You are slightly amazed that it is still together, but you once again sit down and turn the chair back towards the computer. You once again navigate to your emails and click on the most recent of the unread ones. You briefly skim the email and then reply, “I have got the sample."

[mychoombatheroomba]

Between the Bones Chapter List

Act 1

Chapter 1: Too Slow Chapter 2: Proper Introductions Chapter 3: Your Move Chapter 4: Bruises are the Best Teachers Chapter 5: Up Close and Personal Chapter 6: Back to Back . . . Chapter 7: . . . Against the World Chapter 8: Say You'll Be There Chapter 9: Danger Close Chapter 10: Firing Range Chapter 11: Proximity Alert Chapter 12: Let You Down Chapter 13: Better This Way Chapter 14: Afterburn Chapter 15: Thank God, You're Finally Home Chapter 16: Quiet Moments Chapter 17: A Losing Game Chapter 18: Razor's Edge Chapter 19: Moment's Silence (NSFW)

Act 2

Chapter 20: Choices and Consequences Chapter 21: Interrogation Chapter 22: Voices Carry Chapter 23: Compartmentalization Chapter 24: Dehumanizing Chapter 25: Only You (NSFW) Chapter 26: Idle Fantasies Chapter 27: Show Them What You Can Do Chapter 28: Bloody Lessons Chapter 29: Pack Mentality Chapter 30: Old Hurts Healing Chapter 31: Hell of a Vacation Chapter 32: Don't Breathe . . . Chapter 33: . . . Don't Break Chapter 34: Two Steps Back

Act 3

Chapter 35: Weakest Links Chapter 36: Don't Let Go Chapter 37: Hard Truths Chapter 38: Covert Operations Chapter 39: Black-Out Names Chapter 40: Letters From Home Chapter 41: For the Fallen Chapter 42: A Little Sorrowed Talk Chapter 43: Still I Can't Escape the Ghost of You Chapter 44: I'll Be Missing You Chapter 45: Secrets and Steel Chapter 46: Lessons Final and Familiar Chapter 47: To Be Alone With You (NSFW) Chapter 48: Not A Word Chapter 49: The Crucible (Part 1) Chapter 50: The Crucible (Part 2) Chapter 51: Race Against Time Chapter 52: All That Remains Chapter 53: Fade Out

More chapters to come!

Incorrect Quotes (for the memes) 1 2 3 4 5 6

And if you want to read the Krauser spin-off series:

Disavowed Chapter List

[the-abyss-of-fandoms]

Me upon finding out abt Resident Evils own John Wick and that there are ZERO fanfics abt him:

I wanted to meet the Grim Reaper/HUNK

[tyanis]

Poll: Which male Resident Evil character is the best at chess?

With the rain still coming down outside, the men decide bust out some chess boards and have themselves a little tournament to see who the best chess player is.

Surely this will help fend off cabin fever... yeah...

Winner goes on to face the winner of the female poll so make sure to vote in both!

[ghostlyredroses]

Hi. I'm kinda anxious but I'm working on a silly fanfiction. So for those who don't know, I'm a big resident evil nerd. I love Hunk a lot, and it sucks that there isn't a lot of content on the internet about him.

Naturally, I thought I'd be a good idea and write a few silly little scenarios.

Then my friends were like, "make it a fanfic ghostly!"

So naturally, I've been doing that.

Maybe I'll post it here when if I get comfortable.

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Death and Life

HUNK X Gender neutral reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries (minor cuts and bruises)

The first request for my soulmate au One-shot series. I made reader a rookie medic with the codename Saint in this fic but other than that, reader is pretty much ambiguous as i can make it. I hope everyone enjoys. (Please help, I might have a horrible mask kink)

Prompt: Thinking that you/ they don't have a soulmate until you/ they meet your soulmate/ their soulmate

Entering Umbrella's headquarter building with several agents, he withholds his grunts of discomfort as an agent beside talks to him, her spotless outfit was a striking difference to his bloodied and tattered uniform. She had a glowing rose tattoo on the palm of her hand- her soulmate mark.

HUNK, for the most part kept quiet as they walked down the long hallway, listening to what she had to say. His mind is thinking about the details of the mission he just completed. The pesky thoughts of wondering if he's truly meant to be alone occasionally rears its head in his thoughts.

HUNK has always been too great at the missions he's done throughout the years he's been in umbrella, hell, even during his time in the military. Having a soulmate will only make things worse for him- he tries his best to convince himself while others gave sympathetic looks his way when they found out.

Being the grim reaper in what he does gives him no time to care about the fact that he has no sign of a soulmate present. It made him focus in on being successful on his missions while his colleagues usually end up failing.

Before he joined umbrella, he has felt the emotional sting of knowing that he doesn't have any signs of a soulmate. No matching tattoos like everyone else, just his bare skin that shows. Now it's just the numbness of the acceptance of having no soulmate to go home to after his missions. He was the ideal candidate for Unbrella because of that.

"Have you seen the new nurse that started today?"

Whispers from one of the agents peaked his interest as they talked about the newest member. His footsteps followed through the corridors of the medical unit.

"Yeah, agent. I heard that the nurse doesn't have any soulmate.. how tragic."

The other agent responded, giving a brief sympathetic look towards the first agent. Both agents quickly quit down once they realized that HUNK was staring at them. He reluctantly entered the medical unit with his superior, not wanting to waste his time getting checked out for barely any injuries.

He sits on one of the beds, quietly waiting for the nurse to enter the area. His boss sits down at a spare chair after asking the head nurse to send a nurse their way. HUNK's mask covered eyes took in their surroundings before hearing soft footsteps and wheels of the medical cart move closer towards him.

"Hello, HUNK. Call me Saint, I'm here to check you out and make sure you don't have any infections and you'll be on your way."

Your eyes were on your clipboard before you looked at the male sitting on the bed. His covered eyes looked into yours as you felt as if the world has stopped. Butterflies fluttered your stomach as you attempted to put on a professional facade as you moved to your chair near the bed.

"I'll be damned, you do have a soulmate."

The voice of HUNK's superior mused as he uttered something about owing a couple people money for a bet. Your gloved hands carefully checked his cuts and bruises. It was gentle but perfectly accurate as you disinfeted and bandaged each cut on his skin.

HUNK felt a mixture of shock and disbelief as he looked at you work. The rookie nurse named Saint was his soulmate, his other half. All these years of accepting that he was supposed to be alone turned out to be a lie, his soulmate mark was not having one.

"All done.. I'd suggest applying the arnica cream on your bruises ever six hours for the next couple days. Other than that, you should get some rest."

Disposing of the contaminated items, you advised to him. Your shrubs were neatly pressed and matched the other nurses he's seen. Just as you handed him the jar of cream, the agent got up; leaving the area as he shot a knowing look towards the masked man.

"You don't have a soulmate mark too, eh?"

You tried to break the ice as you wrote on the paper in your clip board.

"Well, if you need a personal nurse or just someone to hang out with, here's my phone number."

With a soft smile, you took the sheet of paper out, folding it in half before handing it to HUNK. You hear the head nurse call your name before you said a brief goodbye to the male.

[kurokkkiko0]

Hunk is hot and i stand by that statement. Hunk?? He can dunk me over his peni WOAH WHO SAID THAT.. THAT’S SO. WILD. UMMM I DIDN’T SAY THAT.

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

mf hot af

If you're on a RE kick how do you feel about Mr. Gigachad Hunk?

HUNK!! God, he's so fucking cool, I absolutely adore him and I need to have unprotected sex with him as well

Ik it's not canon but I still giggle thinking about Hunk meaning ''Human Unit Not Killed'', he's so cool BARK BARK BARK GRRRRR SNARL

[mychoombatheroomba]

A Little Sorrowed Talk

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 42

The night everything changed for him . . . and the night everything changed for you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

CW: Blood & gore, violence, and so much angst. It's backstory time, baby!

He hadn’t known, at the time - how could he have known? - but it started with a mission. A mission, soldiers, a doctor and a sample. 

A few vials, something so small, that could cause so much trouble. 

A doctor defecting in fear, running to the US and taking a bioweapon with him. He hadn’t known that Umbrella was tracking his moves - that they were going to be there when he made his escape. They couldn’t have known the threat one doctor could pose - all thanks to those vials he possessed. They couldn’t have known it would end that way. None of them could have. 

Leon hadn’t known then that so much destruction could come from one man. He hadn’t even thought to imagine what would happen within the week. He had been more concerned with the boxes and packing tape that had surrounded him, signaling a new start. A new life. Officer Kennedy. It was a title he would be proud to wear, once it was actually given to him. He’d wished his girlfriend had felt the same. She’d been proud, sure, but she hadn’t wanted to move to Raccoon City. She had been scared by the news reports, and didn’t want to go with him. Even if he couldn’t blame her, exactly, it was a fresh wound that, at the time, had stung deeply. 

That was what he was concerned with, when he’d gotten that call. 

⧫⧫⧫

You hadn’t known, at the time - even if your gut had told you something was wrong - but it started with a mission. A mission, soldiers, a doctor and a sample. 

A few vials, something so small, that could cause so much trouble. 

A researcher driven by greed, escaping to Russia and taking a bioweapon with her. She hadn’t known that the buyers she was going to meet were being tracked, a squad of elite soldiers hunting extremists. It wasn’t the researcher that posed the threat, or the men she was selling her merchandise to. It was those vials she held. They couldn’t have known what they would do. None of them could have. 

You hadn’t known then that so much pain could come from so small a thing. You had thought it a little strange, seeing a wounded squad of spec ops soldiers barely beat a blizzard to your base, just as you thought it strange that they brought a terrified-looking woman along with them. Strange, but not strange enough to distract from the still-new pride you wore, and the rank that had caused it. Sergeant. It had a nice ring to it, you thought. It had been a few months since your promotion, but the pride hadn’t worn off. Your bunk-mates liked to tease you that your ego was all that had grown, not your importance, but you didn’t mind that. You’d earned your rank, and you proved it every day, taking to your duties with dedication. Duties like the patrol you were set to complete.

That was all you’d really been concerned with, before one of your fellows pulled you aside for a warning. 

⧫⧫⧫

“Is this Leon Kennedy?” 

“Yes, who is-”

“Stay away from Raccoon City.” 

“What?” Leon asked, because . . . because that city was his future. 

He’d never forget the tone of the man on the other side. Deathly serious, like this was the most important piece of advice that Leon would ever receive. “This is Sergeant Neil Carlsen with the RPD. I’m sure you’ve heard of the violence happening here, and kid? If you value your life, you’ll stay the hell away.”

“But, sir-”

“Trust me, Leon,” the man said, and he sounded pained. Defeated. “Stay away.”

Click. The sound of the phone being hung up interrupted any further questions Leon might have had. And there he’d stood in his near-packed up apartment, having just been pulled back from the precipice of a new life. He’d wanted to ask why - to say that surely it couldn’t be that bad in Raccoon City. To tell the man that he could help if things really were . Instead, after a moment of stunned stillness, Leon opened one of the boxes beside him and fished out a bottle. Whiskey. A graduation present from the very woman who had, it seemed, ended things with him for nothing. Stay away. Ultimately, when the whiskey could offer no more escape a few days later and the news reports got worse and worse, Leon found that he couldn’t obey the order. 

So, he set out late one night, ignoring the warning he’d been given.

Unaware that, down the road he traveled that night in Raccoon City, something was spreading. Growing. Mutating. 

Unaware that, by morning, everything he knew would be forever changed. 

⧫⧫⧫

“Yo, Sarge, you hear about the fight in the mess hall?” 

“What?” you asked, your look betraying that you had not, in fact, heard.

You’d never forget that incredulous look as Rain nodded. Like something ridiculous had happened, completely and utterly ridiculous, but something that spooked even her. “Those spec ops guys that came in today? Bunch of ‘em went psycho, got into a fight. Like, a messy one.” 

“Anyone hurt?” 

“Oh, shit yeah. Bunch of our guys. Fuckers were, like, biting and scratching and shit.” She held up her hand, displaying a red line, jagged but shallow. “They’re whacked. That doctor of whatever that they brought with them was freaking out too, I guess. Saying they need to be quarantined.” You’d seen the woman in the holding cells a few times, and each of them she’d been raving like a madwoman. It struck you then as a woman knowing she was screwed, that whatever fucked up shit she’d been doing, she’d been caught at last. Still, something twisted in your gut as Rain told you about the fight, because spec ops didn’t act like that, in your limited experience. Something was off. “So, you want my advice? Stay away.” 

“Sergeant,” the voice of your Captain interrupted any further questions, and he approached with a shake of his head. He looked . . . worried. “Enough gossip. Don’t want to leave Morales out in the cold alone, do you?” 

So you obeyed, heading off to complete your duties. 

Unaware that, within that very building you’d come to call home, something was spreading. Growing. Mutating. 

Unaware that, by morning, everything you knew would be forever changed. 

⧫⧫⧫

The song on the radio was one Leon liked. Guitar and words of frustration. A lament disguised as anger. It screamed against the rain pounding on the windows of Leon’s car, the sound of his tires turning against the road. His only companion on the journey had been that music. 

He was glad of at least that music as he drove towards the one place he’d been told to stay away from. The songs kept him from diving too far into his own thoughts, staving off the questions of what the hell are you doing, Leon? It didn’t matter how dangerous it was. 

He could help, so he would. 

That was what he had to remind himself of as he pulled into a gas station off the road, and at last the music was cut off in favor of the rain. A few cars and a police cruiser sat there, but that was all that greeted him. 

Rain, empty cars . . . and blood. 

So, after taking a steadying breath, Leon set out into the dark station in search of the source. Trying to ignore the weight of the gun he carried and the sinking in his heart.

He didn’t know what he thought he’d find in that gas station, in dark and disorganized space. All he knew was that when he found the officer, struggling and losing until his opponent was on top of him, as he heard the screams, Leon had frozen in place.

Because no amount of training had prepared him to see anyone tear out the throat of another person with her teeth. If what Leon was faced with could really be called a person. Pale skin ready to fall free from the muscles beneath it, eyes milky white and empty of feeling, and a mouth bloodied with death. 

⧫⧫⧫

The song playing from the radio was one that you liked. Synth and too-happy vocals. A call to dance, an invitation to live even if you couldn’t understand every word - a local tune, you thought. It sounded against the silence as you sat in the watchtower, the flurry outside the windows getting worse and worse. Bad enough that the song on the radio faded to static before too long, before it was gone altogether. 

“Aw, come on-” the voice of the man at your side complained. At least you weren’t alone to watch the blizzard worsening outside. David was good company, even with his dramatics. “No no no!” he pleaded, switching stations like he was trying to stave off death itself. You could sympathize - the guard shift would be boring as all hell without that music. Then again, you supposed it didn’t matter how boring it was. 

It was your job, so you would do it. 

That was what you resolved as the two of you made light conversation until at last, the hours had passed and it was time for the two of you to leave so Rain and another could take your places. 

Only, Rain was nowhere to be found. 

So, after a teasing remark from David, you set out into the cold in search of her. Trying to ignore the weight of the gun you carried and the sinking feeling in your stomach. 

You didn’t know what you thought you’d find out there in the storm, in the space between the base proper and the guard tower you’d been in. All you knew was that when you found her, her body pressed up against another’s, as you heard the screams, you had frozen in place.

Because no amount of training had prepared you to see your friend tear out the throat of another person with her teeth. If what you were faced with could really be called your friend. Pale skin ready to fall free from the muscles beneath it, eyes milky white and empty of feeling, and a mouth bloodied with death. 

⧫⧫⧫

Terror, sharp and cold, pierced Leon, because he was seeing someone die. He was seeing another person take a life - tearing it apart. Ripping. Tearing. Devouring. 

What do I do what do I do what do I-

“Freeze!” Leon cried. He’d earned top marks for his ability with a gun. He knew what he was doing. Even so, he found the weapon too heavy and too shaky in his hands. “I’ll- I’ll shoot!” 

The once-person didn’t listen. 

Please don’t make me-

Leon pulled the trigger on his pistol because he was afraid and this thing already killed someone and . . . and it didn’t really matter as the man fell to the floor. It didn’t matter because he’d never shot someone before. Never taken a life. He stared at the corpse, hand shaking, staring at his handiwork. The corpse stared up at him, bloody mouth agape, looking well and truly dead . . . 

Only to get back up. 

Bullets. For that first man-turned monster, and the second, and all those that came after that. Until Leon found himself looking down the barrel at a pair of wide, blue eyes. 

He would thank god every day for Claire’s arrival . . . and curse him because it meant more souls having to endure the hell that followed. 

⧫⧫⧫

Terror, sharp and cold, pierced you, because you were seeing someone die. You were seeing your friend take a life - tearing it apart. Ripping. Tearing. Devouring. 

What do I do what do I do what do I-

“Rain!” You cried and lunged for her without thinking, trying to pull her off of the other soldier. Spence. You recognized him now, even with death turning him limp. His body fell just as Rain whirled on you, teeth bared. “Stop!” you begged as you struggled, even as her strength and ferocity threatened to overpower you. 

Your once-friend didn’t listen. 

Please don’t make me-

You squeezed the trigger on your weapon because you were afraid and she’d already killed someone and . . . and it didn’t really matter as Rain fell to the floor. It didn’t matter because you’d never shot someone before. Never taken a life. You stared at the corpse, hand shaking, staring at your handiwork. Rain stared up at you, bloody mouth agape, looking well and truly dead . . . 

Only to get back up. 

Bullets. For that first friend-turned monster, and the second, and all those that came after that. Until you found yourself looking down the barrel at a pair of wide brown eyes. 

Whatever was happening, at least David wasn’t a part of it. At least you’d have someone with you. That was what you thought in the moment, but that thought changed quickly, because he wouldn’t survive the hell that followed. 

⧫⧫⧫

He was alone again before too long. 

Surrounded, but alone. 

He’d been grateful for Claire’s presence, however briefly he had it. When they’d been separated, he could only hope that she’d be okay. That she’d find her own way. And so he’d carried on into the Raccoon City Police Station. The place he would have spent his days, if things had been different. He felt his heart hammering sickeningly in his throat as he looked for survivors, his fellow officers, anything .

And within minutes, he’d found what he was looking for. 

His presence only delayed the inevitable. He hadn’t known Elliot Edward. He might have, in another life. He might have shared a morning coffee with him, or worked late nights on a case together. Now, though, all Leon would know of the man was the sound of his screams, the scent of his blood . . . the feeling of his body going limp in Leon’s grasp. 

Leon might have joined him, were it not for one man.

He never thought he’d feel relief at the sound of a cracking skull, but as the officer’s boot and a security gate both came down on the zombie’s head, Leon let himself sink into that feeling. It only grew as he looked up, seeing an exhausted, paling face and bloodied hands. 

“You’re safe. For now.” 

For now. And in that moment, it all came crashing down around him. Leon could only remain where he was on the floor of the RPD station, his mind struggling to keep up as he realized what he’d just seen, how he’d failed. How he’d be dead too, were it not for the officer standing over him. 

Lieutenant Marvin Branagh - another name Leon might have known. One he would carry with him forever. One he failed. 

“Leon Kennedy,” he introduced himself after Marvin did, trying to steady his breathing enough to speak. “There was another officer . . . I-I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .”

I couldn’t save him. He’s dead because of me.

Marvin’s face - drawn in pain - softened as he held out a hand. “Here. I’m sure you did what you could, Leon.” 

But it wasn’t enough. He only hoped that, at some point tonight, it could be. 

⧫⧫⧫

You were alone again before too long. 

Surrounded, but alone. 

You wished that David hadn’t been with you. That he’d found his own way, somehow, because it became clear to you that night that being near you was a death sentence. You’d run back to the main base, both of you, greeted by the sounds of snarls and gunfire. Your home of the last few years. You felt sick to your stomach seeing the evidence of more death staining the walls, but you and David searched for your comrades. 

And within a few minutes, you found what you were looking for. 

You weren’t fast enough to save him. The men and women who had once served with you, who’d been family to you and David both had acted just as they’d been trained to; quickly and with overwhelming force. You’d known David for years - you’d known all of them for years. You’d shared in laughs and difficult times, you’d had your first drink with them. And now, you knew the sound of David’s screams, the scent of his blood, the feeling of helplessness as you fired and fired but couldn’t stop them. 

You might have joined him, were it not for one man. 

The sound of another gun was a welcome relief. High caliber. A sound you were familiar with. The creature on top of you, the one wearing the face of a man you’d known as James, went still as the bullets shattered its skull. You scrambled out from under it and you felt a wave of relief crash into you as you found a face that was home to you. 

“You hurt, kid? Did they bite you?”

Captain Simon Reynolds - another name of a person you cared for. Loved. One you would carry forever. One that you failed. 

“No,” you shook your head, still checking yourself over. Then scrambling towards the body of your friend a few feet away. The pieces left of him. “I tried . . . I . . . fuck, I tried-”

I couldn’t save him. He’s dead because of me.

A hand grasped your shoulder as you knelt over David’s corpse, shaking. “Kid,” Reynolds said, his voice too kind and calm for whatever was happening. “I know. I know you tried.”

But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

⧫⧫⧫

A gun pointed at him, a look of terror in wise eyes. 

Leon didn’t know what to do, just that there had to be something. If he could get Marvin to the hospital . . . but what would be the point? Would the staff even be alive to treat him? Was it possible to treat this? So, that left only one conclusion.

“It’s too late.”

Marvin didn’t move beyond that, his weapon trained at Leon to keep him away, his hands splattered with his own blood. The wound in his side drained him of more than just his lifeblood, Leon could see it. 

“I tried, Leon . . . but I couldn’t stop it. We can’t let this thing spread,” because there couldn’t be more lives destroyed. This couldn’t happen anywhere else. “It’s on you now.”

There was no other choice. Not for Marvin, not for Leon. 

“I understand.”

That was all he could say, all he could promise as he left the man who would have been his Lieutenant behind, taking the knife he'd been given with him. He fought alone through the tunnels beneath the station, fighting through horror after horror for who knew how long. Pushing past the knowledge that the monsters he put down had been people, once. Ones he should have protected. He fought and fought, until once more, Raccoon City threw something at him that he hadn’t been ready for. 

The dog’s teeth snapped over his face, breath smelling of death and decay. One of the hounds the RPD kept before the outbreak. 

Leon’s gun was out of his hands on the floor beside him. He couldn’t reach it, even as the dog’s weight bore down on him. 

Even as those teeth grew closer and closer to him.

A snarl as it tried to bite into him . . .

. . . and a gunshot that saved him from an instant death. 

That was how he met her. Wrapped in an aura of mystery, dark eyes hidden behind dark glasses. She presented a badge, telling Leon that she was FBI, and he would realize that lie all too late. He was never sure if Ada was her real name, but he did know that she would save his life many times that night. 

The woman in the red dress - the one who found a way to his heart and broke it with equal ease. 

⧫⧫⧫

A gun cocking, a look of determination in wise eyes. 

You didn’t know what to do, just that there had to be something. If you could just find a way to get a signal out, to call for help . . . but what would be the point? Even if comms and the phone lines weren’t down, the blizzard outside would make it almost impossible for help to reach the base. So, that left only one option.

“We’ve got to keep moving.” 

Reynolds lead the way, weapon at the ready, his face splattered with the blood of his men. Your comrades. The ones taken by madness. The battles drained your Captain of strength of every kind. 

“If we can’t be sure anyone got our SOS, then we find who we can and we hold out. We see if we can stop this thing,” because he didn’t want to put down another of his men. You didn’t either, so you had to believe him. “You with me, Sergeant?” 

There was no other choice. Not for Reynolds, not for you. 

“Always.”

And so you set out across Dorne Base, you and your Captain, searching for what survivors you could find, directing them back to the armory, where you hoped they would be safe. You faced horror after horror for hours, pushing past the knowledge that the monsters you felled had once been your comrades. Your friends - your men. Ones you should have protected. You fought and fought, until once more, the base threw something at you that you were unprepared for. 

The claws swiped within an inch of your throat, twisted from the arm of what had once been a human. One of the spec ops soldiers that had arrived the day before. 

Your bullets did nothing as you opened fire, sinking into the things chest. Only Reynolds was able to pull it off of you, his knife sinking into the monster’s neck as the three of you struggled. 

Even then, the once-man swung at you, making you fall but missing you. 

A cry of pain as teeth sunk into your Captain’s flesh . . . 

. . . and a series of gunshots that saved him from an instant death. 

That was how you met him. Clad in dark gear, empty eyes hidden behind the red lenses of a gas mask. He and his men bore the marks of US Special Forces, and you would realize that lie all too late. You were never sure what his name was, but you were sure that he saved your life many times that night. 

The man in the gas mask - the one who stood by your side only to drive his knife into it. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

A/N: A lil HUNK and Ada jumpscare there 👀

This will end up being a two-part recounting! I didn't want to bog you guys down with like, 20+ pages in one go.

That said, hoooo boy I had so much fun writing this, even though it's miserable for the lads. All of the names of Sarge's squad mates mentioned are references because I cannot help myself; David and Sasha are Cyberpunk, while Rain and Spence are from the live action Resident Evil movies, because even if they're trash, they are the Resi content I grew up with and they have a special place in my heart for that.

[the-abyss-of-fandoms]

You can see that I have a favorite RE character 🥰😂

[yurozo]

resident evil headcanons (restaurant au)

characters: leon, chris, jill, claire, rebecca, ada, luis, carlos, wesker. a/n: this was created as a joke between me and my friends that completely spiralled out of control. maybe the stupidest au i've ever created. wesker and friends hit me up if you wanna use this warnings: vulgar language. sorry, i'm canadian, we swear a lot here.

chris redfield (bartender): he's one of the first hires, and has been working as the head bartender forever. he absolutely loves to lowkey trauma dump on customers unknowingly, only to shake the mixer after just to avoid the awkward silence. the owner has had to move the tv's out of the way of the bar because chris will only look at the screen and fuck up every single drink during a big game. refuses leon everytime he tries to come up to the bar for drinks. he knows when it's him, leon always tries to input it in the system as a customer order for a table that isn't occupied, but he always orders his whiskey in a very specific way that outs him. chris will pour it out in front of him to make a point. he eventually had to make a memo about not letting leon take drinks from the bar anymore. to customers, he is every older woman's wet dream. he knows that flexing his biceps will rake him in more tips, so he does it often. also does it when women are being hit on by creepy men to scare them away. the night that he wears tight turtlenecks are his big paycheck days. chris will never admit that he likes when people squeeze his arms. chris is the guy that everyone has a crush on when they first start working there, it's basically an initiation rite at this point. he's the friendliest one of the bunch and gives wholesome big bro vibes and it makes him absolutely irresistible to new hires. (x reader) if you're working alongside chris in the bar, prepare to constantly run into him. he's a massive guy, and maneuvering around a little bar with that hunk is near impossible without a couple collisions. after a while, he's learned to put a gentle hand on your back whenever he has to move behind you, all for the sake of "workplace safety". he loves to sneak food from the kitchen and share it with you, but this man eats like a horse. like the chefs are genuinely surprised on how much food this man can physically fit inside his body, but he will always leave a portion for you. it takes him a long time to make a move because he's afraid of ruining your friendship and workplace relationship. leon kennedy (server): he got hired a little after everyone else, and got put onto the waitstaff because of his looks. however, this man is super awkward with patrons despite being super popular with older women. he's always getting propositions to get set up with someone's daughter and he always unknowingly shoots them down. (customer: "you're really cute, leon: "ok.") he always makes little jokes to lighten the mood and it is an instant vibe killer. the only people who like them are the old ladies who think he's cute, and dads who genuinely think he's funny.

as for the whiskey incident, leon has tried multiple times to pretend being a bartender when chris is on break to sneak himself a drink. he claims that it makes him better at serving, but three broken trays and countless shattered glasses say otherwise.

leon does have kind of a blank expression when patrons try and get him to cut them deals or do stuff for them. he will immediately go back and scream by himself in the freezer after a difficult customer interaction. has cried silently in the freezer after food got in his hair. (x reader) leon always smells like american crew hair pomade, and always showers himself in cologne on shifts he knows he's working with you. you smiled at him one time in the middle of a rush and he had to sit on the curb to collect himself. leon has a horrible tendency to get distracted whenever you're in his general vicinity, and will completely ignore customers whenever you walk by with literal hearts in his eyes. he's one of the fastest people to make a move, mostly because he lacks any form of subtlety. he always offers to drive you home, always offers to take you out to dinner after work like you already don't work in food service, and always keeps something in his bag for you. he loves to lowkey fuck with you on shifts, like putting an ice cube down your shirt to make you pay attention to him. jill valentine (hostess):

another og worker, and the most no-nonsense of them all, especially with customers. if the wait time is thirty minutes, then you're waiting thirty goddamn minutes. she does not care who you supposedly know. she has gotten a couple writeups for visibly rolling her eyes when large parties come in without a reservation. jill demands a break every thirty minutes to sit with chris on the curb while he smokes a cigarette. she calls it her mental health breaks.

pointedly does not listen to leon when he asks her to stop seating people in her section. her favourite past-time is to seat all the old women obsessed with him at his tables to watch him flounder. also gives leon's number out to people who try and hit on her at the job. she's also the only person who can scare the owner, so jill gets away with a lot more than most people. her and carlos often hang out after shifts to drink beer and play pool. her and claire have regular girls nights where jill's convinced into facemasks and terrible movies that only have a one star rating on whatever pirated movie website claire pays for. (x reader) every attempt you make to ask her on a date goes completely over her head. it's only at chris' intervention that she finally gets the hint and takes you out to dinner. she ends up having her own shelf of stuff at your apartment within a week, and she's more than happy to drive you to work everyday. if you have a pet, prepare for jill to come over to spoil it rotten and feign ignorance when you confront her about it. another victim of the 'takes extra long to get ready on shifts you work together'. she knows you like her arms, so she's wearing short sleeves or tanks whenever she has the opportunity, and silently preens in your attention. carlos, (line cook):

without a doubt, the line cooks are the vibe bringers of the restaurant. carlos always takes a hit off his dab pen before coming in, because he claims it makes his cooking taste better. he always gives food to the female servers at any given opportunity, and pretends to not know what the male servers are talking about when they bring it up. (is the reason for 90% of the memos regarding workplace behaviour).

carlos always smells like old spice and food, and there is almost nothing that could break his good mood during a shift. he really is just happy to be there. he's very particular on how the freezer is organized, but loved to label the items wrong to piss off the others (spinch). his mother taught him how to cook, so he has a dedicated dish named after her. carlos always comps her meals when she comes in and doesn't tell anybody about it.

as for the other employees, carlos torments them. he loves to play his own music in the kitchen but has a wildly inappropriate taste for work music. chris banned him from the speaker officially after only playing doja cat for three hours. however, him and luis love to carpool and play brazilian funk with all the windows rolled down at max volume. those two are not allowed to work together too much. he also has a mobile game rivalry with leon, so anytime carlos is missing from the kitchen, you'll find him in the bathroom on his phone. just follow the shitty iphone game music.

(x reader) in all honesty, carlos is the man that's hooked up with the most employees. the mans charm is undeniable. but he has a particular soft spot when it comes to you-- you get to taste-test every dish, there's always a nice cold glass of water waiting for you, and carlos will take the fall for every fuckup at your table. he'll introduce you to his mom when she comes in, but is secretly terrified at how well the two of you get along. don't even get him started on bringing his siblings into the place, he would never hear the end of it. carlos received another memo after engaging in too much pda at work after the two of you got together.

claire redfield (waitress):

one of the main reasons for all the positive google reviews. it's not that she's naturally a super bubbly person, but claire knows how to turn it on and off when her shift starts. jill puts most of the families in her section since claire has a natural gift with kids. however, she is extremely biased when it comes to the food. her face always tells you exactly what she thinks of a dish.

since chris is always within eyesight of her, whenever difficult customers give her problems, she loves to sic chris on them. even just having him stand behind her is enough to give her leverage over someone trying to haggle on a bill. and with carlos' willingness to give food to pretty girls, she never goes hungry during a shift. the girl has her whole shift figured out on a system. she also knows exactly when the lull in service is going to be so she can take extended bathroom breaks.

out of everyone, she's the one to organize after-work hangouts, whether by putting gentle reminders into the group chat, or straight up bullying people to come (ie. jill). everyone always knows when she pulls up from the sound of her engine, but she refuses to let anyone on it. especially luis or leon, for insurance reasons.

(x reader) this girl has the uncanny ability to know what you need, and when you need it. forgot an iced tea for table 20? it's already in her hand on the way. it's her nice little way of showing what a good girlfriend she would be, that she can anticipate your needs. for every group hangout, you are the first person she texts and the primary benefactor of the tips she makes. claire is a no bullshit kind of woman, and when she wants you, you will know. she'll always ask you to hang out, always compliment how you look, tell you constantly how good you are at your job. maybe she'll let you ride behind her on the motorcycle just for the excuse of having your arms around your waist, and does that hot thing where she rubs your arms with her thumb at red lights.

rebecca chambers (head waitress):

dear old rebecca, truly the glue holding everything together. she's incredibly sweet to customers, and to most of the employees. the only reason the floor runs properly is her by the book attitude and highly perceptive personality. nothing is getting by rebecca. she's leon's number two nemesis for being able to drink on the job, and chris' number one nemesis for smoking outside. this woman has the nose of a bloodhound when someone is about to do something stupid.

despite her appearance, everyone is afraid to make her angry. she's lost her shit a total of one time, but it was enough for everyone to be on their best behaviour. she does have a tendency to make passive aggressive comments with such a sickly sweet smile on her face, that you won't even realize she insulted you until long after she's walked away.

least favourite part of the job? she is a hit with old men. they can never leave her alone. second least favourite part? finding ways to sneak vitamins into certain employees food so they can live to see another day. the way that some of the others operate is enough to give her grey hairs.

(x reader) rebecca is intelligent and ambitious, and more than willing to make sacrifices when it comes to you. she's more than happy to take the fall on a screwup if it gets you out of it, wanting nothing more than your smile in return. her main tactic of getting to know you is inviting you over to watch movies, inconspicuously of course, so she can ask you questions over the whole thing. overall, she's an acts of service girl, but is much more subtle about it than claire is. you need a meal prep plan? she's your woman. she wants nothing more than to take care of you, to make your life as easygoing as possible. but the true way to her heart is any form of baked goods. if you make a habit of bringing her pastries before a shift, she's putty in your hands.

ada wong, (head chef):

this woman, god help her, has the hardest job out of them all. not only does she have to babysit her two line cooks, but she's also responsible for cleaning up all the fuckups the waitstaff make. her saving grace is the fact that everyone else is terrified of her, creating a wide berth every time she picks up a knife. everyone can always hear her scolding carlos in the kitchen, who just brushes it off with a laugh.

despite the chaos of a kitchen, ada has the impeccable ability to never get food on herself. even after the dinner rush there is not a single hair out of place, looking just as perfect as when she started. every ingredient is measured precisely, every fda standard met and upheld-- pretty much the counterforce to carlos and luis. secretly, she loves when carlos has control of the speaker, but she would rather die than admit it.

the second an overcomplicated modification comes in, the temperature of the kitchen immediately drops. why the hell does she pore over a menu just for some middle-aged man to think he knows better than her? despite her no-nonsense attitude, she does secretly love fucking with leon. only luis knows about her secret tinder account that she catfished leon on with some fake woman in romania.

(x reader) ada is a woman in tune with herself, in tune with what and who she wants. the second she gets attached, she will display clear favouritism. every new recipe she tries is given to you for taste-testing, claiming that you will always give her the truth. it's a lie, she just like seeing the grin on your face when you enjoy it. if anyone asks her about it, she will vehemently deny it, claiming that you're the only one competent enough at your job. her asking you out is more of a demand than it is a question: this place, this time, wear that dress you know i like. she's not huge fan of pda at the workplace, but she'll always give you that look that screams, just wait until i get my hands on you later.

luis sera (line cook):

this man does not operate on a recipe, he operates on la pasion. really, it just means the foods always a tad spicier than it should be. he also sings obnoxiously loud in the kitchen, to the point that patrons can hear it if they're seated close enough. this man obeys ada for the most part, but he's honestly never touched a measuring cup in his life. he'll stop pouring when his ancestors tell him to stop pouring. however he has the uncanny ability to know exactly when meat is within three degrees of whatever temp they need it cooked to.

the waitstaff either love him or hate him. luis playfully flirts with everyone in his line of sight. who could blame him? he's stuck in a kitchen all day and everyone at this restaurant is unbearably attractive. mostly, he just likes seeing their reactions. leon adamantly begs claire to fetch his plates from the kitchen for him, because luis calls him prince charming every time, and leon hates it.

there's a rumour going around that he got drunk after a shift and made out with another employee, but no one knows who it is. there's a restaurant-wide betting pool on potential victims. also, since luis is the only person who knows about the catfish incident, he loves to ask leon innocuous question while feigning innocence about the whole thing. he's just really invested in his love life, he swears.

(x reader) if you think the flirting is bad towards leon, just wait until he catches an eyeful of you. it is a nonstop barrage of witty compliments, offers to go dancing (or clubbing), and pick-up lines that were definitely picked up off the internet. he's a suave guy, don't get me wrong, but he most definitely gets too many of his ideas from old romance novels. at some point he gives up, telling you straight that he wants to take you out, for reals, and cook you a nice home-cooked meal. maybe some wine. maybe more, if you'll let him. luis is another person who displays clear favouritism, and tries to convince ada into naming a dish after you. it has a horribly cheesy name, but it tastes wonderful and he loves shooting you a wink every time you see him making it (he always makes that dish more carefully than any of the others).

wesker (manager):

this man bought the damn place in a last ditch attempt to save himself from bankruptcy, and unknowingly entangled himself into the lives of the dumbest twenty year olds he's ever met in his life. the only person that he kind of tolerates is ada, because she runs that kitchen like it's the military, and he can respect how batshit terrifying she is. he has a particular vendetta against chris for reasons he can't name, but since chris brings in a lot of money, he can't really refuse. he mostly gets that frustration out by pinning things on chris that leon most definitely did.

he's rarely seen on the actual floor, usually just hanging in the back on the computer doing whatever the fuck he does. (he's playing farmville, but no one knows it's him because of a pseudonym. he also does not know how to turn the music off so if you stand at the right position outside the door you can hear it.)

when he is seen out on the floor, he's wearing the most obnoxious sunglasses and leather jacket known to man, and stalks around the bar to watch for mistakes. you know you fucked up around wesker when there's a sneer on his face. the place almost got robbed once, and wesker threw a punch so fast that everyone stopped trying to piss him off after that.

(x reader) truthfully, he doesn't act too much different around you. it takes months to catch onto the little quirks that show his softness-- just a slight ease in his eyebrow, a softer pitch when addressing you directly. he'll still chew you out for mistakes, but he forgets about it long before he'll let anyone else slide. if things did eventually progress between the two of you, that manager's office is staying locked.

thank y'all for reading! this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be lol.

[thewritersaddictions]

Request- (RE8) Karl Heisenberg: Needy Little Girl

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: Hiding your crush on your English teacher seems to fail when he makes you stay after class.

Warnings: Smut, Consensual, needy behavior, sluty behavior, BJs, PinV, a little cursing. Fluffy smut, fluff.

A/N: This is for anon; I know you sent this request a while ago. I promise it was worth the wait. Thank you for the request; remember, the inbox is always open!

WC: 1.9k

Requests Master List // Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List

You wish you could start the day the way you ended it. The college class fills quickly, but you’re always early. You’re always waiting for him to come stalking through the doorway, smelling cigar smoke and burnt wood. 

Your professor is a massive hunk of man. Large arms that make the white collared shirts he wears bulge and give way with every movement he makes. Long legs that are framed in jeans, hugging his ass and showing off everything else in the process. 

That booming voice has you squeezing your thighs together, but the reality is you leave that class every single day with a ruined pair of panties, and when you get back to your dorm, there are only thoughts of him when you slip your hand down the front of your tight jeans. 

You should focus on the lecture, but you can’t get your mind or your eyes to focus on the computer screen before you. All you see is your professor pacing back and forth in front of the chalkboard. The loud booming voice that soothes you into a sweet lul mutters about something to do with your new essay project. “Please remember that we may make fun of Shakespeare and his many stories, but they all have a great deal of meaning and foreshadowing. I want you to write something that…” His words stop momentarily, and his eyes gaze over the lecture hall. Your ankles are crossed, and you sit a little higher when his graze hits you. Feeling hot all over, you don’t back down, “Write something that can grasp the reader’s attention in just that way. Write the trauma that is the indecision.” He finally finishes, drops his gaze from me, and returns his attention to the chalkboard. 

You wonder momentarily if anyone else feels the heat and tension you always feel when he’s looking at you. Eventually, you have to return your attention to your blank Google Doc. The bright screen hurts your eyes, and nothing comes into your brain except explicit thoughts of your professor—your much older, hotter professor. 

An hour later, when the class has come to an end, every single other person has picked their shit up and packed it away into their bags. You’re stuck writing because you eventually did get the words to form in your head. A cough draws you from your thoughts and the screen before you. When you look up, he’s standing there staring at you. 

“Miss, L/n? Class is over.” He says. You nod and start to pack your things. Closing your laptop, but yet again, you’re met with his eyes staring into you. Making your skin burn, “Miss, L/n, I need to talk with you.” Your professor says, even though you’re so close to the damn door you have to turn around and go right back to the man that makes your legs wobble, and your heart beat faster. “Yes Professor Heisenberg.” You say as you hold the remaining books tightly against your chest. “I need to talk to you about something private, and this lecture hall needs to be used in the next ten minutes, so follow me to my private office so we can talk there.” You nod, and wait for your professor to grab his own bag and laptop. You follow next to him, the sound of sneakers squeaks, and little kittens heels fill the air in the hallway. Walking with him has your cheeks warm, and knowing that you’re going to be in his private office. 

Alone. 

Alone with a hot, older professor that has you ruining panties, and squeezing your thighs so tightly that you hope the dull ache goes away. Your professor stops making you bump into him. If your fantasy didn’t already have you thinking he was a strong, beefy man then bumping into him surely made all your fantasy come true. The key jingles against the lock letting you in first. You sit down, and wait until you see Professor Heisenberg move around the desk and sit in the chair on the other side. 

The air is thick and unspoken tension, so you’re the one to break it. “Um… sir, why did we need to talk?” You ask your books now resting on your lap, your legs crossed, and you back pressed up against the back of the chair. “I wanted to talk to you about… um” his words die in his throat and for the first time your professor seems completely amiss. A loss for words is something you’ve never seen on the man before. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask worry etching into your soft features. “No you haven’t. God no, I just.. you..” He’s a mumbling mess in front of you. “Professor, maybe I should come back some other time.” That’s what you say, not that that is what you’re thinking. 

Being in his lecture hall is enough, watching him pace is enough, but now you’re here in his private office. The word private keeps blinking in your mind, his private office that smells more of cigars and burnt coffee. Where his degree hangs on the wall and the papers scatter the hardwood top of his desk. He rolls his lips together, and then looks towards you. 

There’s something behind those eyes. Like a cat got his tongue, then all the sudden the words fall from his very kissable mouth. “You Y/n are an absolute distraction for me.” Your brows shot up with a little bit of hurt mixed in, “Oh no not like that darlin’ I’m saying that having you in my class makes everything ten times harder to focus on, because all I can see out of the corner of my eye is you. Clenching those thighs together as you try to focus on your screen, but I catch you staring at me all the time. Those beautiful eyes lost in la-la land. What are you thinking about huh?” Your shoulders drop, and embarrassment courses through your body. You’ve been caught, but it seems that your day dreams, and fantasies were not one sided. You place your bag on the floor, and let your books fall as you get up from across the desk. “I’m thinking of you Professor Heisenberg. About what these large hands do to my body. How your touch would feel. I think about you all the damn time. I’m so needy for you.” You mutter the last part. Holding his hands feeling the weight of them in your own much smaller ones. 

You can feel the ruined panites, soaking through your jeans. Heisenberg's eyes glaze over, and something shifts in the room, from tension to desire. He’s quick to meet you halfway around the desk. He stands so much taller than you, then the way he man-handles you to sit on the side of the desk has you wish you could strip off all your pieces of clothing right then and there. 

“”I’m so fucked…” He whispers before taking your lips with his. There’s a fight, but you both know that you’ll be giving yourself over to your professor in a matter of minutes. Your arms wrap around his wide shoulders balancing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss further. He seems to notice, and takes a second of your precious time together and picks you up plopping you onto the desk. In the same motion his hands are digging into your jeans and yours are trying to get his belt undone. “By the way, buttercup call me Karl, not professor or heisenberg. I wanna hear you moan my name when you cum. His words make you fumble with his belt, but he seems to be able to do two things at once because your jeans are already unbuttoned and his hand is reaching into cup your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ hell wet are the damn river. Is this what you go through every day, hmm such a poor baby.” He teases, but that's all the teasing he does. He’s far to desperate for forplay and your thankful because the next set of words that were gonna come out of your mouth were gonna be ‘if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might explode.’ Karl helps you the rest of the way with your shirt, bra and then he helps himself to ripping himself out of the slacks, and his button up. 

Leaning back you hit a few objects on the way down. “Um… Karl can we move some of this stuff?” You ask your voice shy and timid. “Of course.” With one big sweep of his arm the objects fly to the floor, the name plague landing with a thund, and the stapler clicking to the floor. “Thank you.” He hums, and returns his attention to your body. 

Nipples hard waiting to be played with. Pussy soaked and yearning to be touched, he kisses you first. You can feel the weight of his cockd sitting against your thigh, and when you look down you aren’t surprised to get the feeling that it might not fit. Karl can sense your unease. “Don’t worry buttercup, we’ll make it fit won’t we.” He says as he taps the tip of his cock to your sensitive clit. All your worry fades away as your body heats up like flame in an oven. It’s not until the tip of his cock notches at your entrance do you look back up at him. There’s a devilish smirk written all over his face, and you can’t help but drag him down to meet your lips, wrapping your legs around his hips, and pulling him fully in. 

There’s no waiting, no making sure he fits, or going easy. The pain only fuels the urge for him to almost pull all the way out and push right back in. The lamp that didn’t land on the floor from the desk shakes, and your moans start to fill the small office. He doesn’t even put a hand over your mouth to cover your screams of ecstasy. A large thumbs sitting over your clit, pulling tight circles over it pushing you over the edge, and as you go Karl thrust becomes harder and faster. He’s pushing himself to catch up with you. 

If he was a gentleman he would have prepped you, taken you out to dinner before fucking you like an absolute animal but a part of him thinks that how you like it. Being taken, whisked away and fucked for all to hear. Hell someone could knock or just burst in at any moment. Your tits bounce with every erratic thrust, your nails dragging against the back of his neck. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again.” You scream and it’s Karls undoing. Tight, wet, warm walls squeeze him tightly, barely letting him leave to thrust back into your warm heat. “Fuck me Karl, just like that!” 

Your chest rises and falls as you both try to catch your breath, sweaty, and sticky from sex. The room smells like it too, but that alright especially when Karl reaches over your body still deep inside you to grab a few tissues to clean you up the best he can. “By the way” You say in a huff. “You can call me Y/n.” You say sarcastically, as if the moment here will ever happen again. “I will darlin’.” He says with a wink.

Completed on: 03/29/24

Posted on: 04/05/24

HH Tags-

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Pst... HUNK Soulmate AU is coming out Tonight

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

can’t wait for more HUNK x reader

amazing work btw _(:3 」∠)_

HUNKs Wife

Resident Evil Hunk x F! Reader

No warnings!|Fluff

*UPDATED/EDITED*

Your steps echoed as you entered one of the many hallways in one of Umbrella's facilities. Clicking of heels were heard around you as scientists made their way to, what you presumed, their assigned areas. Your thumb toyed with the silver ring that was placed on your left hand, the diamond sparkling in the luminous lights that hung above. A bag was placed in your other hand, the smell making your stomach growl. As you greeted those who you passed by, you neared the end of a white hallway.

You were hoping the man you came to see wasn't too busy at the moment. The guy worked so hard to where he barely ate enough, so you decided to be the loving wife that you are and bring him something. You really only gained access into some parts of the building because of your shared last name and the title of "Hunk's Wife." You were given a small ID, but it wasn't anything special.

You came to a stop once you reached a set of tall pristine doors. Your raised hand with the food came up to grab the bar only to be stopped. You turned to look at the security that was situated on your left side. You had failed to notice there were gaurds.

"Excuse me miss but you cannot enter this area without clearance."

One of the men spoke as you held a small smile, shifting on your legs nervously. You reached to get your ID with your free hand until someone cut in.

"She's with me." The monotone voice spoke up from behind one guard as they moved out of the way. Hunk now appeared in the doorway, his gear and gas mask on. You stared at Hunk through the lens of his gas mask and smiled. Hunk motioned you to follow him through the doors.

As you stepped through the door, you noticed that the section you entered must be one of the training areas. Dummies were lined against one wall while the other had equipment. You noticed some punching bags as well as the mats on the floor. You came to the conclusion that the room was for combat training. You stayed close to his side, noticing a few Umbrella members looking your way, some grinning. They definitely had to tease him, or at least try. You understood, though. It was odd and quite unbelievable that the Grimreaper had actually fallen in love. People didn't believe it at first when the news spread. You kinda felt bad for the man, having to get swarmed with everyones questions.

As you neared the exit of the large room, Hunk undid some buckles on his gas mask, allowing the mask to hang from one side of his face. He let out a sigh and cast his eyes down at you by his side. You met his gaze and smiled as you continued walking.

"So..what brought you here?" You held up the bag that was clutched in your hand for him to see, "Well I thought it'd be nice if I brought you some food and stuff. After all, you work hard." You let out a small laugh, your cheeks gushing. You couldn't help but smile at Hunk, his brown eyes gazing at you with adoration. He looked away and chuckled a little before continuing. "You're too kind." His voice was deep, keeping it low. He continued, "Thank you, though." He looked away and let out a sigh, "What did I do to deserve you?" You smiled and shook your head. You could always tell he meant it. You know, he tried even with the scarse emotions. This man deserved to have happiness.

Hunk led you both into an empty room, which only held a table and counter along the left side of the wall. It must be one of the breakrooms, but it looked as if it was barely used. You stopped and set the plastic bag on the table near you both.

"Here you go," you said, your tone soft. Hunk took off his gas mask and placed it on the table. He rolled his shoulders back and turned to you, smiling slightly. He was always a bit more relaxed in your presence. He took a few steps towards you, his hands resting on your hips as he leaned forward, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. He pulled back slightly and stared into your eyes. "You look pretty today..." You laughed lightly, placing a hand over his chest.

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his chest, resting your eyes. His heartbeat filled your ears with soft thumps. It was a nice feeling, however, your smile faltered. You enjoyed the embrace, and the moment you were sharing, you never knew when you'd get another moment like this. You never knew if one of his missions would be his last, so you savored the days you had with him. You tightened your embrace, giving him a squeeze. His arms embraced you, resting at your waist as you slowly swayed in the quiet. You took in his scent as you fought back the tears. You both knew the risks. The subject, though, was rarely brought up. You didn't want to think of it, so you made every day worth it.

The two of you continued to slowly dance. Warmth surrounded your bodies as you sunk into each other. The forgotten food laid on the metal table as "I love you's" were exchanged. You smiled into the fabric of his uniform as you thought. He was the one, the love of your life.

[agentkeegan]

My MasterList

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I'm in more fandoms and write alot. If you don't see a character on here, say it in the request box along with your request and i'll do some research on them!