#wesker x you

[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?

[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.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 35

Gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW & NSFW

Reading time (roughly) - 18 minutes

It's been a minute since I've watched all the Resident Evil movies, so some stuff might not be super accurate. Just roll with it my lovelies.

------------------------------

SFW

• You are really Weskers one and only true weakness, and he is both terrified, and enraged by the thought of someone exploiting that fact.

• So obviously he is very tempted to inject you with the virus. But he's worried that it might not bond with your genetics like his.

• So he runs like a million different tests, without your knowledge, to find out if it would undoubtedly bond with your genes.

• When he comes to the conclusion that it will in fact bond with your genes, he feels as if a weight is lifted off his chest...

• Now he's just got to figure out how to convince you to take it.

• If push comes to shove... He might just inject you against your will.

• If that's the case, he will do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, and make you understand that this was for the best.

• Wesker would burn a thousand world's to protect you okay. He'd abandon everything he's worked for, if it meant keeping you safe. You are his world, and his one and only.

• He would die for you if he had to, and he will fight to his very last breath to get back to you.

• You literally can have the world on a silver platter. If you want it, simply ask and it's yours.

• Money, power, jewelry, clothes, his attention, hell you simply want food? Weskers gonna pull out all the stops, and make you an amazing dinner.

• Can't bring yourself to ask for what you want, and you'd rather leave hints? No worries Wesker can read you like an open book, consider it yours already love.

• On that note. Wesker is an amazing cook, like seriously good. You'd think he took culinary classes before he got into working for Umbrella. In reality it's just a natural skill he was practically born with.

• He makes cooking complex meals look easy, and to him it is easy, second nature really. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy cooking for you, doing anything that makes you happy, makes him happy in return.

• You're also the only person that can get him to open up and talk more. Something's he won't tell you about from his past, but those things he claims are better left in the past.

• Wesker loves reading to you, but he also loves listening to you read to him as well. And when you both wanna read your own books, curling up and spending the evening together reading quietly is perfect to.

• You make him so unlike himself at times. Sometimes even he wonders how you have such an effect on him. Not that he's complaining, he loves it in fact, it goes to show how special you really are.

• If you ever want to just go and get out of the infamous bunker, simply exploring what's left of the outside world. Wesker will let you, he knows you can look after yourself.

• But is he back at the bunker pacing back and forth like crazy? Yeah he totally is... For about 20-25 minutes before he decides he can't handle not knowing, and he goes after you.

• However he won't let you know he's there, he'll simply shadow you unless you really need him. He just needs to be certain you're okay, infected or not he still worries.

• He definitely teaches you how to fight. Hand to hand combat of course, but along with teaching you how to use just about any weapon he can get his hands on... Which is a lot.

• He'll teach you how to drive if you never learned, how to operate a helicopter, small plane, and even a fucking tank just in case.

• Don't know how to swim? No worries love, Wesker will take however long necessary to teach you. Don't have great endurance? He's got you covered.

• He's actually a very good teacher. He pushes you, but he never pushes you to far. He's fair. And he's driven to help you, become an even more amazing you. He's very patient, and very encouraging.

• Wesker loves everything about you. Anything you consider a flaw, he considers incredible. His praise is through the roof. He practically worships the very ground you walk on.

• As stated before Wesker can read you like an open book. So whenever you're scared, he's there to comfort you. Or if you're stressed, he's happy to draw you a warm bath.

• Maybe you're just tired? You know the kinda tired no amount of sleep can fix. Well he's there for you, holding you, letting you rest, and assuring you that he loves you.

• Despite how incredible he is, and how mush pride he has. Sometimes he can't help but feel a bit insecure at times. Are you afraid of his eyes? Of him perhaps? Will you grow bored of him and leave? Is he worthy of you?

• It's rare that these thoughts occur, let alone bother him. But sometimes late at night, while holding you in his arms, he can't help but wonder.

• He pushes those thoughts away, and the following morning you always manage to unknowingly, reassure him that he has nothing to worry about.

• Arguments with Wesker are pretty seldom. When it does happen, typically it's you hollering at him, and him sitting there silently waiting for you to calm down.

• He has raised his voice to you once, but it was brief, and he apologized almost immediately. The only reason he raised his voice, was because he was worried when you did something extremely reckless.

• Wesker is extremely patient, and understanding with you. He knows sometimes you're not quite yourself, whether it's because you're tired, you're hurting, or simply overwhelmed with something.

• If something is bothering you, but you don't want to talk about it. He'll quietly scoop you up into his arms, take you to bed or nearest couch, and simply lay down with you atop him. Petting your hair and simply letting you relax.

• He's seen you cry many times, and he's never once thought poorly of you for it. He knows you've been through a lot, and adapting to this new world isn't easy for you.

• You've seen him cry once. There was an accident while exploring the outside world, and Wesker thought he'd lost you, that he'd failed you, and you'd paid the ultimate price.

• Even as he looked up at you from his position on his knees, tears continued to roll silently down his pale cheeks. You were alive and well, but he was so close to losing you.

• You held him in your arms, and simply let him get it all out in silence. His strong frame, typically as unfazed as a brick wall, shaking as his heart wretched in his chest.

• He'd never known pain like that before, and he was grateful you didn't think any less of him for it. Hell it brought you both closer together, and strengthened your bond in ways he had never considered before.

• Wesker encourages every one of your hobbies, even if it's something he doesn't quite see the appeal of. It makes you happy, and that's good enough for him. He'll find you supplies whenever he leaves the bunker, and really anything he thinks you might like.

• The beginning of your relationship was odd. Before you started dating, Wesker would follow you around like a grumpy cat. Acting like you mean nothing to him, but always insisting on being near you.

• Actually there are a lot of reasons you could compare Wesker to a cat. And if you ever tell him that he denies it admittedly, all the while practically purring as you toy with his hair absentmindedly.

• He'll literally be staring at you without his sunglasses, and his slit pupils are now wide and round. And the moment his attention is drawn elsewhere they shift back into thin slits.

• Wesker has a secret sweet tooth, and again if he's called out on it, he'll deny it to hell and back. Even if he has a sweet in his hand, or even his mouth. You can't prove anything!

• Will definitely steal food from you just to tease you, a playful smile on his face the entire time. Actually he steals all sorts of stuff from you just to taunt you, and he absolutely loves it when you chase after him trying to get it back.

• Will he use his power to speed away? Possibly. But he honestly enjoys letting you think you can really catch him.

• Aka he enjoys playing cat and mouse, but you never know who's the cat, and who's the mouse until the cat gives chase.

• All in all he loves you with every fiber of his being, and he would follow you anywhere, and do anything for you. It doesn't matter what you might say or do at times, you are his everything.

NSFW

• Oh and before you ask, yes the cat and mouse play, is something that occurs in the bedroom. And again it varies on who's the cat and mouse depending on yours and his mood.

• Wesker enjoys all sorts of role playing. Acting like he's the STARS Captain, that needs to do whatever it takes to get you to confess to a crime. Being the good doctor who must cure your mysterious illness.

• And even acting as if the virus has altered his mind, and made him into a mindless sex crazed beast. He especially enjoys this one, because it plays into his breeding kink.

• This man wants to breed you so so bad. It's partly a side effect of the virus, but he's always had an interest in it long before he injected himself. Now with you as his love, he feels as if he needs to breed.

• Rough sex, slow sex, quickies, you name it he wants it. His sex drive is high now that you're together, but he is very patient if you don't want sex as much as him.

• Wesker is incredibly romantic, and he loves spoiling you. He's a giver through and through. So that being said if he could live the rest of his life, with his face buried between your thighs he would.

• Oral is a must anyhow. Wesker is big, he's well aware of this fact, and he doesn't want to hurt you. So he'll spend at least a half hour between your legs just prepping you.

• And boy does he know what he's doing. You often loose count of how many orgasms he pulls from you.

• From base to tip he is roughly 7.9 inches long, and 2.1 inches wide. The tip is very prominent, and he is surprisingly uncircumcised. His cock also leans a little to the left when hard.

• His cock is a pale as the rest of his body, but when he's hard the head gets very pink. He has two very prominent veins that feel absolutely divine.

• Wesker loves cockwarming so much, sometimes he insists on sleeping with his cock still buried in your heat. But his favorite time is when you're sitting together reading.

• He's such a tease when you're cockwarming. Giving the occasional thrust just to hear you whine needily. He will pump load after load into you, and keep you plugged up with his dick, even if you are sensitive.

• Aftercare King GOD! He will massage your sore muscles, clean you up, run you a soothing bath, bring you a snack and plenty of water or maybe some soothing tea. He'll whisper sweet nothing's into your ear, praise you, and remind you of how much he truly loves you.

• You just wanna cuddle afterwards? Perfect it'll give it time for his seed to work its way deeper. Want a bath or shower immediately after? That's okay too, he'll change the sheets while you do so, then join you once he's done.

• You can always tell when he's horny, not only by the way he'll paw at you, or the evident bulge in his pants. But also because his eyes glow exceptionally bright, and the slits of his eyes are wide.

• He sounds like a beast as he nuzzles into you, growling and purring as he tries to coax you into helping him out.

• That being said Wesker is very vocal. He moans, growls, purrs, and spews praise the entire time. He isn't super loud about it, as he prefers to have his face buried in your neck, but sometimes he will get a bit loud. Typically that's when he's really needy.

• When he's extra needy, he whimpers so much. It's so fucking hot when you get him all worked up like that. Making him weak and needy, whimpering and begging you for his release. It's divine, and makes you feel so very powerful.

• He loves loves loves making you loud as fuck. His goal is to make your voice horse by the time he's done. Especially if others might be around. He needs them to know who you belong to, and ensure no one is dumb enough to try anything.

• Wesker takes so much pleasure in fucking you dumb. And when you get cock drunk, he's so fucking proud. He will make an absolute mess out of you, and then praise you for being so good for him.

• There are very few things he isn't willing to try with you. He isn't willing to share you with anyone... With the exception of a clone of himself... He will fuck you roughly, but he doesn't take it to far considering his strength, and the amount of damage he can inflict with little effort.

• He does enjoy bondage, both for you and himself. And yeah he could break out of his binds very easily, but why would he, he's enjoying you taking control, and using him for your pleasure. His favorite technique of binding you is with a straitjacket, and it plays into some of his favorite role playing stories.

• Wesker will fuck you anywhere at any given time, seriously he has no shame, just ask and he is yours. That's not to say he won't kill anyone for interrupting or catching you. Your pussy is for his eyes only.

• While he loves pumping you full of his cum, he will never pass up an opportunity to cum on your tits. Especially if you beg for it so sweetly, I mean he loves fucking your tits anyhow. So if you want him to paint your breasts with his cum, who is he to deny you?

• But if you don't ask him to cover you in his cum, or cum in your mouth. Wesker is gonna stuff you with his cock and finish in your warm cunt. Even if he only gets the tip in before he starts to unload, as long as he's inside your heat he's satisfied.

• That isn't to say he won't make you eat his cum. His favorite way of doing that, is to cum inside your pussy, finger you until you cum, and make you suck on his sopping fingers. Sometimes with his gloves on, because he knows you love the leather.

• If you're together before being locked up in the bunker, Wesker is not above letting you suck his cock at his desk. In STARS or Umbrella, he is yours to do with as you please. And if he can return the favor while you're at work, he's more than happy to.

• Wesker also loves seeing you wearing his clothes so much, that it often gets him all hot and bothered, and he's on you real quick like.

• When you inevitably fall pregnant, Wesker is the first to know. He knows before you know. He could sense the changes to your body, and eventually he could hear the extra heartbeat.

• But he'll wait for you to figure it out, and come to him. And like a good lover, he'll act surprised by the news, because he knows it'll make you happy.

• He praises every change your body goes through, some of which he seriously adores. Like how your hips widen a bit, and your breasts swell with milk for the babe.

• He will pamper you 1,000% more than he already did, waking you up most days with his tongue buried in your sweet pussy. And when your breasts grow heavy and sore, he's there to relieve the pain.

• Lactation kink unlocked!

• Initially it started with him massaging your sore breasts, but as he watched milk bead from your tender nipple, he instinctively licked it clean.

• You moaned, he growled. And within seconds your nipple was in his hot greedy mouth. Wesker groaned at the taste of your milk, tweaking your other nipple until it began leaking.

• He played with the milk for a moment before swapping breasts. Back and forth he went until he was satisfied, and the pressure in your breasts had subsidied.

• He kissed you hungrily afterwards, letting you taste your own milk. Before kissing his way down your body until he reached your sex, eating you out as if he were starved.

• Wesker fucking loves pregnancy sex. He loves holding your swollen belly as he makes slow sensual love to you. He loves how extra responsive you are, and how extra sensitive your body is.

• He is very attentive and will help you in the shower or bath, and when your all cleaned up, he can't help himself and he will finger you to climax.

• And when it gets to hard to shave yourself, Wesker is happy to lend a helping hand. Which unsurprisingly ends with him licking your pussy.

• Forgot to mention it before, but Wesker enjoys eating pussy very messily. It's so obscene the sounds he makes as he licks and slurps at your sex, growling and moaning as he dose so.

• The sounds are so obscene you often find yourself blushing like crazy. Even though you tend to suck his cock all noisily as well, something he takes great pleasure in of course.

• Wesker loves having you ride his face, when you're pregnant and when you're not. Don't worry you can't hurt him, so grind away. He'll keep a firm unrelenting hold of your hips, so you don't gotta worry about falling or anything like that.

• Once your child is born, Wesker is eager to get you pregnant again, after you've healed up of course. Although if you would rather wait a while, he'll comply to your request.

• So he'll cum on your belly, on your tits, your butt, your back, or down your throat. Wherever you want really. But he will beg you to let him breed you again, eventually. He can't help it, he needs to breed you.

• If you downright refuse, then he's gonna get you into anal if you aren't already. So he can atleast cum in your ass if you won't let him cum in your pussy anymore. But again he will still try to convince you at some point to let him cum in your pussy again.

• He needs it, don't be mean.

------------------------------

Movie Wesker is a dreamboat okay! I freaking love Shawn Roberts, and he looked so good as Wesker.

[forthevillains]

WELL, SINCE YOU MENTIONED IT... Wesker breeding kink HCs?

I gotchu!

!NSFW!

~ Wesker surely never intended to have a child, he never thought of it, nor has he been aware of the kinks at all so the whole idea of breeding kink didn’t get to him at first. Yes, he always preferred to cum inside, but it wasn’t much of a big deal, it was purely for his comfort

~ with you however, it changed. Well sort of. He may not know why, but he grew to like it. The sight of his seed leaking from your sensitive pussy after he’s taken you was something that amused him too much. The thought of it resulting in making you swollen with his child, tying you to him forever... It awakened his possessiveness, something in his mind clicked at that moment and he knew it would be something he’d wish to do repeatedly

~ he’s a big creampie lover indeed

~ he becomes obsessed with it. So obsessed that if the imagine of you full of his cum crosses his mind, he gets immediately hard. No matter where he is, no matter what he’s doing. That thought alone is enough to make him go absolutely crazy with the need for you. The urge to have you below him, moaning his name while he pounds into you, pushing deeper and deeper with every thrust while you milk him dry. It would take all his self control not to jerk himself off right there. He’d try so hard to suppress all the dirty thoughts invading his mind only to fail over and over again, having to lock himself in his office, closing his eyes while gripping his cock, imagining it was your hand instead of his:(

~ his favorite position to breed you in is - as you could’ve guessed - missionary. Not only can he watch his piece of art afterwards, but can also make sure you don’t waste a single drop

~ even if you do, he’s gonna push it back in. After pulling out, he’d lower himself enough so that he could push as much as he can back in with his fingers while keeping his eyes on your face, to see your reactions, to know that it makes you as turned on as it makes him. While his skilled fingers would tease you, each of his touches so gentle yet eager. It’s enough to get both you and him ready for a second round.

~ however opportunities like this are limited. He’s a hardworking man and there should be always the time for you to shower afterwards unless you want to walk around with his cum leaking from your hole for the rest of the day. And believe that he made you do that at least once (probably after you’ve angered him), only to tease you about it and make you feel embarrassed

~ Wesker doesn’t really care if you’re on birth control or not. If you happen to be, he takes it as a challenge. He wants to try how long can it protect your womb from being occupied by his offspring. He wants to test it and he’s not gonna give up until one day - you actually become pregnant. Whether you want to keep it or not would be purely on you though, as it was mostly just a fun for him anyway

~ to redeem this poor man though… The act itself means a lot to him. Being comfortable enough with you to want you to carry his child is something he never did in his life. It’s not only an act of attraction, he takes it as all, marking his territory, proving to you that you’re his and his only, but also as his way of saying he’s yours as well.

[happy74827]

Conflicted, Yet Certain

[Albert Wesker x Agent!Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Tension rises when you refuse to do what Wesker orders. The result? Well, it's nothing short of explosive {GIF Creds: @monsieurphantom}.

WC: 2611

Category: Spice/Lime, Insane Amount of Sexual Tension {TW: Choking, Slamming into Trees (lmao), Wesker being a lil bitch}.

I’m going to be so real with all of you rn. I’m not a complete stranger to Resident Evil; I know some things (most all relating to Leon and Ethan 😏), but in terms of Wesker… yeah, I dunno THAT much. I did lots and lots of Google research solely because I discovered him through an edit (I’m also aware of the Separate Ways DLC, too, don’t worry), and he’s cool asf. So, bada boom, this oneshot was born.

And I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I think I pretty much nailed him. Personality-wise, that is. And @yoursacredqueenmother, don’t you come for me. You knew this was going to happen.

So, with that out of the way, enjoy this fic that I spent way too much time on :)

『••✎••』

It was like a gush of wind. One minute, you were staring into the dark abyss of his shades, free to move, and the next, you were against a tree with a firm hand gripping your neck. No matter how many times you were reminded of his inhuman strength, it always caught you off guard.

"I asked you a question,"

Wesker was standing so close that your bodies were almost touching, his grip tightening every second that passed without a response. His free hand moved from his side to rest on the knife on his hip. Your eyes moved down to the weapon, and he let out a low, almost guttural, chuckle.

"What, are you afraid?"

He pressed the blade against your cheek. The cold steel made your skin burn, and you winced as it cut into your skin. He held it there, watching you struggle. You didn’t try to push him away or escape the pain, but you didn’t give him the answer he was looking for, either.

You looked up at him stiffly and gave him a look that was equal parts hate and disgust. He was always playing these games, pushing you, taunting you, testing you. You knew he wanted you to react, to show him that he had any effect on you.

He removed the knife from your face, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Wesker didn't remove his hand from your neck, though. Instead, he ran his glove-covered fingers across your cheek, wiping away the blood from the small cut he caused.

"I expected better of you," He paused, and you felt his nails dig into your skin, "And, more importantly, I expected my orders to be followed."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the unspoken threat in his words. You couldn’t stop the shudder that went through your body, and the scariest thing about the whole situation was that you weren’t sure if it was fear or arousal.

His grip on your neck loosened, and you relaxed, letting your head fall forward slightly. You knew that, at this point, Wesker was just waiting for an answer, and you had nothing left to lose by giving it to him.

"I won't do it."

"Excuse me?"

He tightened his grip on your neck and lifted your head up to look him in the eye. Your heart raced, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"I won't do it. You can't make me."

Wesker scoffed and took a step back, letting go of you completely. You took a deep breath and watched him intently, waiting for him to strike again.

He didn’t, surprisingly. He just stood there, looking at you. It was a real pain how he could see right through you, and all you had were his damn glasses.

"You can't make me," You repeated. It was shocking how much confidence you had in that statement, especially given that Wesker could break you in half if he wanted to, but despite everything, you were defiant.

He tilted his head, his lips curved into a smirk. His posture was casual, and, while you were still tense, his attitude was the complete opposite of what it was a few minutes ago.

"I think you'll find that I can."

There was no trace of the threatening, sadistic man you were so used to dealing with. Instead, he was calm, almost charming, but it didn't change the fact that you didn't trust him for a second.

He took a step towards you and then another. Before you could move, his hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

"You will do as I say because if you don't," He paused and leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Chris will be the one who has to deal with your mistakes."

It was a low blow, and, as much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you knew he was right. There was no way you were going to put Chris in any kind of danger. Not now. Not ever.

Wesker chuckled. The sound was dark and full of amusement. He was enjoying the power he had over you, and you hated it.

"You'll do what I say, won't you?"

You didn't reply, but it didn't matter. You were both aware that he was right. He knew that, no matter what, you would follow his orders. He knew that if it came down to it, you would give up everything for the sake of protecting Chris.

You felt Wesker's hands loosen, and he stepped away, putting some distance between the two of you. He seemed pleased with your decision, his smirk growing wider as he watched you.

"Now, go and prove yourself useful, my dear," Wesker commanded, the amusement gone from his voice.

He turned his back to you and began to walk away, but you couldn’t leave it like that. You couldn't just stand there and watch him leave.

You rushed forward and grabbed his arm, an act that he fully expected and allowed but not one that was welcome. He spun around and grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully. If he weren’t so precise in his movements, he would have broken it.

You didn’t bother tugging or fighting his grip. You just stood there and stared up at him, waiting for him to say something.

He didn't. Instead, he just looked down at you. It was a different kind of stare. Not one that was filled with amusement or anger but curiosity. He was curious about what you were doing. He was curious about what kind of game you were trying to play.

"I'm not afraid of you."

Wesker raised an eyebrow. You could almost hear the sarcasm in his voice when he spoke.

"Oh, I'm well aware."

He released your wrist, his touch lingering longer than necessary. You flexed your fingers and rubbed at the spot where he grabbed you, trying to ease the ache.

You weren't afraid of him, but that didn't mean that you weren't intimidated by him. It didn't mean that you weren't cautious. After all, he was stronger and faster than you, and his control was unmatched.

"Why don't you go run along to Redfield now, Agent," Wesker said, his tone almost teasing, "I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear of your obedience."

You didn't wait around to listen to any more of his taunts. Something took over, something that made you do something really, really stupid.

You walked straight up to him, no words spoken, no thoughts shared, just pure, unadulterated instinct. Inches away from him, you pushed yourself up onto the tips of your toes and smacked your palm against his cheek.

His head snapped to the side, his eyes most likely wide, and his mouth slightly parted. The slap didn't hurt, or at least, it didn't affect him physically, but it was enough to shock him. He didn't expect that.

He turned his gaze back to you, his jaw clenching and his fists balled up. His shoulders tensed, and you could see the annoyance written all over his face.

"Do it again."

Stern and cold, his voice was low and full of warning. A part of you told you to walk away, to get out of there while you still had the chance, but the other part of you refused.

Your hands trembled slightly, but you didn't back down. You’ve been holding it in for so long, so agonizingly long, and this was your chance to do something, to let go, even if it was just for a second.

For once, you didn't care about the consequences, or the punishment, or the fact that, at that moment, Wesker could very well kill you.

You slapped him again. Tried to, anyway. He was too fast, and before your hand could reach his face, he grabbed your wrist again. He pulled you forward, twisting your arm behind your back, and held you against him.

His other hand was on the back of your head, forcing it up so that you were looking him straight in the eyes. Except, again, you couldn’t. Not with those fucking sunglasses in the way.

He leaned down, his lips only a few inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and heavy, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Do it."

This time, there was no malice or mockery in his voice. No, he wasn't telling you to hit him. He was giving you permission.

Your heart was racing, and your legs felt weak. It was so much, and you weren't sure how much more you could take. You hated him, God, did you hate him.

But, at the same time, there was something about him that drew you in. Something that made your pulse quicken, and your stomach churn. Something that made your head spin and your palms sweat. Something that made you want him, even if you didn't want to admit it.

And, as much as you hated him, as much as you loathed him, you couldn't help but want him.

He was a monster. He was evil. He was everything you had spent years fighting against, but there was no denying the attraction you felt towards him.

The heat of his body was overwhelming, and the smell of him, a mix of leather and gunpowder, was intoxicating. His grip on your hair tightened, forcing you closer, and you were sure he could hear the way your breathing hitched.

"Come on, dear," He taunted, that mocking, sinister tone back in his voice, "Don’t tell me you're losing your nerve."

That was it. That was all it took. You didn’t know what came over you, but suddenly, your hand was on the back of his neck, and you were crashing your lips against his.

It was messy and rough, and there was so much anger, hate, and lust behind it. Wesker returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours, and he let go of your hair and the arm he had pinned behind your back.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping tightly, and you grabbed a fistful of his hair. He let out a low growl deep in his throat and pushed you backward.

The next thing you knew, your back was once again thrown against the nearest tree. It wasn’t as painful this time, mostly due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins and Wesker taking the initiative to move his arm to the back of your neck to soften the impact.

The bark was rough against your skin, and the scent of pine was strong, but none of it mattered. Not with the way his hands found your thighs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist.

Not with the way his teeth bit and nipped at your bottom lip, drawing blood. Not with the way his tongue soothed the wounds, tasting the coppery fluid.

Not with the way his hips rolled against yours, drawing out a moan from the back of your throat.

Wesker pulled away and trailed kisses along your jaw, moving to the side of your neck. You gasped and bucked your hips as his teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh.

He chuckled, the vibration of his voice against your skin making your head spin, and moved his hand from the back of your neck to hold the sides of your face.

He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his body contrasting the cool air around you.

You wanted to reach up and rip those fucking sunglasses off his face to finally see what was hidden behind them. You wanted to look him in the eyes, to see what kind of expression was on his face.

You wanted to know if he felt the same way you did, the same fire, the same desire.

You wanted to know if he hated you as much as you hated him.

Instead, you ran your fingers through his hair, grabbing and tugging at it, causing him to growl against your neck. His lips were still on your skin, sucking and biting at the delicate flesh, and his hands were exploring every inch of you.

His hands roamed, and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his touch. Your head was clouded with desire, and you could barely focus.

It was all happening so fast. Too fast. Your body was on fire, and, for a moment, you forgot who you were with and what he had done. You forgot the pain and the suffering and the lives that had been lost.

You forgot it all, and, just for a moment, it felt good. It felt right. It felt like you were meant to be together in every way.

Wesker was no fool, and he certainly didn't miss the change in your breathing or the way your muscles relaxed under his touch. He could hear your heartbeat, the rhythmic thumping growing quicker and louder as his hands moved lower, and he could smell the scent of arousal in the air.

He pulled away and looked down at you, the corner of his lips twisted into a smug smirk. He could see the look in your eyes, the haze that was covering them. He could feel the heat of your skin and the way it prickled under his touch.

He knew what you were thinking and what you were feeling, and he could use it to his advantage.

"So, this is how to get through to you," He mused, his voice low and teasing, "Interesting."

And just like that, reality set back in.

Your eyes snapped open, and, as if you were being electrocuted, your body went rigid. Wesker took a step back and released you from his grasp, watching intently as you fell to the ground.

Your body was numb, and your head was spinning. You couldn't move, couldn't speak. You were frozen, unable to do anything but watch him.

"Well, well," He started, his eyes never leaving you, "Perhaps I was wrong about you."

He took another step back, putting more distance between the two of you. You looked up at him, your breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

He tilted his head, his face showing a mixture of amusement and annoyance, and took another step back.

"Send my regards to Chris, won't you?"

Then, he was gone. Just like that, he disappeared, and you were left alone in the woods, struggling to understand what had just happened.

What had you done?

You didn't know, and, to be honest, you weren't sure you wanted to. All you knew was that you had fucked up big time.

You had let your guard down and shown him a weakness. You had given him the perfect opportunity to use you, and use you he did.

You stood there, your mind racing and your body aching. Your legs were weak, and your heart was pounding, and it took a while for your breathing to return to normal.

Goddamn it, what had you done?!

The question haunted you, and it continued to haunt you as you stumbled back towards the main street, where your car was parked.

You were completely and utterly fucked, and you had nobody to blame but yourself.

You got into your car and turned the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. You shifted into drive and pulled away; the only thing on your mind was how badly you needed a drink.

Or two.

Or three.

Damn it… What the hell had you done?

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

hi! i wanted to start this off by saying i love your writing, it's so wonderful!!! could i request the RE men on how they'd act on their wedding/eloping day w fem!reader please? fluff & nsfw are more than welcome :) thank you!!!

୨୧ Note: thank you so much anon for the kind words 🥺 and of course you can request that! You can request anything! This idea is very beautiful and thank you for it. I had a fun time writing it, and I hope you will have a fun time reading it as well 💖

୨୧ Warning: this post contains nsfw scenes.

Also, my commissions are open, so if you are interested visit my ko-fi page. Thank youuuu 🥰

He wants to keep things intimate. While the idea of a big, extravagant wedding appeals to him, he values the thought of spending this special day just with you, where he can truly be himself. In private, he can express his love and admiration without holding back, showing you his soft and gentle side, away from the prying eyes of others.

This means he’ll make your elopement day unforgettable. He'll hire a priest to officiate your union, will book the most luxurious hotel, and he'll also prepare the itinerary for your honeymoon. He wants to spend an entire month with you, where you will be travelling, experiencing new things, and deepening your bond.

He'd spend weeks working on his vows. Don't get me wrong, he makes sure you know how much he loves you. Every day, even if it's a gesture or a small action, by the time you go to sleep, you need to know that you are being worshipped and loved.

His heart will fill with joy, and his eyes will sparkle with pride as he sees you in that white dress. All he can think of is how lovely and elegant you look, and also how beautiful it will look on the floor when you get to your room.

He'd start off slowly, gentle, wanting to take his time with you. He will place kisses all over your body, starting with your lips and neck, going all the way down between your legs. His tongue will move relentlessly over and around your clit, his fingers curling and twisting inside you, pulling out some delicious moans out of you—those kinds that make his shaft twitch.

He will press his body over yours, looking for closure, as he pushes his cock inside of you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, keeping him tight in your embrace. As he keeps stretching you, he kisses your neck and whispers praises in your ear about how well you take him and how good your pussy feels.

He cums inside you multiple times that night, filling you up to the brim. He yearns that one day he can see your belly full with his kids. He doesn't care about the gender; all he wants are a lot of healthy little ones. You can imagine the excitement when you showed him the positive pregnancy test.

He wants an elopement day because he never knows when he'll have to hop on his next mission. So, after you said "yes," he bought two plane tickets to a country with the fastest departure date available.

Before leaving, he helped you out with the list of things that needed to be done, and luckily everything went incredibly smoothly, as if this holy union was meant to happen.

Even if the ceremony was quicker than expected, you managed to feel the magic of the moment, the suspense and emotions after saying "I do," the overwhelming joy while reciting and hearing each other's vows, and the tingling and burning love of the kiss that bound your souls. Even if his life is full of uncertainties, he is happy to know that you are one constant in his life.

After that, you spent the whole day walking around the city. An elderly couple saw your formal attire, and they were so confused after they heard you just got married, but they were so adorable in their uncertainty. "Why do you mean you got married? Just like that? Where are the guests? Where did you hold the ceremony?" They were very open-minded about it, and they began sharing their wedding day.

After that, you ate at a local restaurant. Again, nothing fancy, something you both liked that had a good view and good food.

The hotel was nice too, but none of you got a chance to admire it as you were too drunk and too over each other. Until you reach your room, both of you engaged in a hot make-out session.

Leon undresses you quickly. The cold air didn't have a chance to tickle your hot skin as Leon was fast to roll over you. Skin pressed on skin tightly, he kept whispering a lot of sweet praises that just trickled over your fevered heart, as they felt so much more intense than would normally say them. His lips felt like feathers on your skin, and they couldn't stop as your melodic moans kept fuelling the burning desire he had for you.

He helped you position yourself on top of him and gasped for air as your warm cunt began to engulf his cock. The warm walls kept contracting around him as you went up and down, and your hips didn't take a single break from moving as Leon felt so good inside of you. His curved shaft kept rubbing that spot inside you, and desperate moans kept escaping your mouth as you felt your orgasm coming, each more melodic and louder than the other. You rested your hand on his chest as your legs became tired, but Leon's powerful grip on your hips helped you keep the pace.

Your legs began shaking, and you collapsed on top of him, feeling that pressure fading from your belly. Your pussy contracted around him, beginning to milk him as soon as he came. You could hear his sobs, his sweet and pathetic ones, as he released a couple of hot, thick spurts inside you.

He kept watching his wife with an adoring gaze for the rest of the night and only fell asleep when the first rays of the sun pierced the sky.

He wants an elopement day with a few guests and a small reception. Even if the idea of a secret wedding day pierced his mind, he decided that it's best to spend this important day with those who are closest to you.

Luis often compliments you, his lips being nothing more than a music stave on which words flow, creating an anthem dedicated to your beauty. He is the type of man to cherish everything about you.

He chose a cabin in the woods because he wanted to give you the fairytale wedding you dreamt of. It's very intimate and very secluded from the outside world. The whole evening felt like you were in a bubble stuck in time. Neither of you felt how the time passed; you were too preoccupied to consume and cherish this special moment. His eyes followed you all day, admiration and desire growing with each passing minute.

Since he was very eager to be alone with you, he carried you with a smirk to your room.

"God, I wanted you all night," he'd whisper in a sweet tone as he'd lay you on the bed. "The way this dress fit on your body…" His hands did most of the talking for him, as they moved so gently yet firmly to take off your dress. He took his time with you, wanting to savour every inch of your body. When he pushed the dress past your boobs, he couldn't resist and stopped to give them some attention. Those beautiful hard nipples were just so beautiful that he had to suck them for a brief moment. You began to moan instantly as you felt his skilled tongue going in circles around the sensitive buds, and you grabbed his hair in a firm grip just how he liked it.

"I can't have enough of you…" he said between moans.

"Me neither…undress me, please." You sobbed as you pushed his head down, urging him to continue. Your mouth watered at the simple thought of his cock going inside you. You wanted him so, so bad that it hurt. You could see his chest rising and falling, showing how heavily he was breathing. He was burning up with desire and passion.

He slid the dress across your body with one smooth move and tossed it on the floor. After that, he quickly got rid of his own clothes, and when you noticed his swollen, red cock, your whole body shivered.

He quickly jumped on top of you, and soon he pushed the first inches in your pussy, stretching you nice and easy given how wet you were.

"It's like you were made for me…." he whined, his mind being clouded by euphoria.

Luis kept increasing his pace, being driven by his own arousal and by your delightful moans. Your cunt was so intoxicating for him, as it clouded his judgement, removing every ounce of self-control and making him act on pure instinct, and his instinct at that time was to bury himself inside you over and over and over until he had consumed everything, and then start again.

He kept rubbing that spot inside of you, increasing the pressure in your abdomen until you felt like bursting. Eventually, the orgasm hit you hard, and it hit him too. He filled you up to the brim, hot, thick spurts of his cum flowing inside you.

He watched you the whole night, not wanting to close his eyes because he wanted to remember your beautiful, sleeping face. Eventually, the fatigue was stronger, and he fell asleep, dreaming of your future.

Surprisingly, he wants a wedding day. After everything he'd been through, he wants something beautiful, something bright, something to remind him that this world is worth living in. Besides, he knew how much you wanted a big wedding, so he wants to comply and satisfy every wish that you have.

Krauser also has a bit of an ego that needs to be satisfied, and this wedding is perfect for that. Every detail will stand out, from the reception to your dress. He was fully involved in planning everything, completely committed to you every step of the way.

Everything was well organised and planned by the second, just as he likes. His heart was filled with joy and pride when heads turned to admire you as you walked down the aisle. He was very handsome too, but you took the spotlight, and he couldn't be more happy. Holding your hands, looking into your eyes, and saying "I do," these moments will be imprinted in his brain, and this feeling will live in his heart until the day he will die.

Having arrived in the room, his hands immediately glued themselves to your body. He barely contained himself all night. Slight touches here and there, under the table, on the dance floor, a small make-out session in the wardrobe—he was boiling up with desire and need.

"You are gorgeous, so, so gorgeous," he said amidst the kiss. A lot of tension was between you that needed to be released.

Krauser managed to take off your pompous dress in a skilled way, leaving you bare. Once he saw your naked body, his mind was clouded at once with an urging need to fuck you senseless, so he picked you up and threw you on the soft mattress.

He was insatiable. His tongue kept drawing circles around your swollen clit over and over, and his fingers would fuck you relentlessly until his whole hand was soaked. His cock was throbbing in his pants more frequently as your moans increased in volume.

"You taste delicious, honey," he said between his own moans.

"I know…now can you please fuck me?" You sobbed, being more and more desperate for his cock, and it's normal considering how much he teased you in the evening.

"How can I say no to you, my love?" he said as he stood up, one hand on your face and the other working to remove his pants. "God, you are so beautiful." His big thumb was running over your cheek; his gaze was full of admiration.

He gave you what you wanted, and he made sure that you'd cry out his name on each and every thrust. His cock massaged that spot inside you so well that it made you curl your toes immediately. You hugged him tight because your emotions were all over the place.

Eventually, your orgasm hit you hard, causing your body to tremble a bit. Krauser made sure to empty his load inside you, and that was so easy considering how your wear cunt kept milking him.

After that, he took care of you. He helped you get ready for bed; he ordered some food and put on a good movie. Of course that you went a couple more rounds after and eventually fell asleep exhausted.

[weskerslefthand]

I see red || Albert Wesker x reader

inspired by Everybody Loves An Outlaw - I See Red

The first time you saw Wesker’s red eyes, they were mesmerizing.

The last time, they were infuriating.

The lab was in ruins, bodies littering the floor like discarded chess pieces in a game he had already won. The emergency lights bathed the walls in a crimson glow, but it was nothing compared to the way his eyes burned when he turned to face you.

“You’ve made a mess,” he mused, his voice smooth, edged with condescension.

You stood among the wreckage, blood dripping from your fingers—not yours. Not yet. Your pulse pounded, but it wasn’t fear keeping you rooted in place. It was rage.

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your fault,” you hissed, stepping forward, your boots crushing broken glass underfoot. “You destroy everything you touch, Wesker.”

He tilted his head, considering your words like they were an amusing hypothesis in one of his twisted experiments. Then he smirked.

“Everything… except you.”

The implication made your stomach twist. His survival, his obsession with control, with winning—you had been part of his calculations all along.

The anger inside you burned hotter.

You lunged.

Wesker anticipated it, but he let you strike anyway. Your fist collided with his jaw, a satisfying crack splitting the air. His head barely moved. That damn smirk remained, even as he lifted a gloved hand to brush his thumb across his lip. Blood. His blood.

His eyes darkened.

“Oh,” he murmured, licking the red from his thumb. “There it is.”

Before you could react, he struck.

The force sent you crashing into a metal console, sparks flying as you gasped for breath. You barely had time to move before he was in front of you, pressing a hand to your throat—not tight, not choking, just holding you there.

“Tell me,” he whispered, leaning in until his lips were near your ear. “Do you hate me enough to kill me?”

Your fingers twitched, reaching for the knife at your hip. His grip on your throat tightened slightly—not to crush, just to remind you who had the power. But you had learned something about Wesker in all your time by his side. He loved control. But he also loved a fight.

You let your body go limp for half a second—just enough to make him think you were giving in. Then, with a sharp twist, you drove the knife into his side.

Wesker grunted, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he laughed.

Low. Amused. Infuriating.

“Not deep enough,” he murmured, voice almost fond. “But I do appreciate the effort.”

Your chest heaved, adrenaline buzzing under your skin.

He reached down, wrapped his fingers around yours, and pulled the blade out himself. Blood oozed, slow but steady, staining his pristine coat. He studied it like a fascinating anomaly before meeting your gaze again.

Those red eyes burned.

Then, before you could react, he caught your wrist and dragged the blade against your palm. A shallow cut, just enough for blood to bead at the surface. His gloved fingers curled under yours, smearing his blood with yours.

A promise. A warning.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice like silk over steel. “And I always take back what’s mine.”

Your bloodied hand trembled. With rage. With something darker.

Wesker’s lips curled into a smirk, satisfied. He turned away, walking toward the exit as if nothing had happened.

“Next time,” he called over his shoulder, “aim for the heart.”

And then he was gone.

Leaving you standing there, watching the blood on your hand mix with his.

Seeing red.

[noirsdoll]

-> chain of fools

pairing: wesker / experiment!reader

words: 1.7k

tags: dubcon, master/pet dynamic, referenced self-harm, collars and leashes, kinda hybrids??, smut!!

notes: writing porn of my favs sigh.... title and intro inspired by chain of fools by arethra franklin!! ummm i want this man idc what he'd do to me yeah!!

read it on ao3

You’re just another link in his chain. 

A small, insignificant piece of metal, rusted from overuse— all it would take is a nimble pair of pliers for you to break. And for the whole chain to come apart. 

He is something so exciting, you’re like Icarus, every time he gets close is like the sun on your cheeks. It’s dizzying being around him. You’re floating, unable to realize what you’re becoming until you see the final product in the mirror. 

Wesker stands behind you, spectating your reaction, never present as much as he is observing. He’s got a hand on your shoulder, the gentle touch still betrays that inhuman strength of his. 

“What do you think?” He’s so close he could brush his lips against your temple. The proximity is nauseating. 

Your skin has taken on a greyish hue. You raise your forearms to the mirror, displaying them to your gaze and his. A myriad of raised scars. Thin reddened lines of your own making, peppered with circular markings from the needles he’s stuck in you. Like your own rendition of a Starry Night. 

You don’t know what half of the medications were. The polysyllabic words were too much for you, so you just trusted him. 

“Dear?” He asks again and you realize you’ve been staring. A long empty stare back at your own reflection, creating an infinity mirror through your pupils. 

“I feel… stronger…” The white tiles and white walls and white ceiling panels burn your eyes. Everything is melding together. Wesker’s skin is alabaster, devoid of the rosiness of life. You can see the hint of his black veins where the skin is thinner. 

He hums, logging the information. He squeezes your shoulder. The touch burns, any contact burns when you’ve had so little of it. Something is itching the back of your throat, something only he can reach. 

The hand on your shoulder goes to turn your face this way and that. A gloved hand, not latex but something equally as demeaning, slips into your mouth to spread it open. Your jaw goes along with it, baring canines that are much too sharp. 

Wesker leans in closer then, enough for his chin to hook on your shoulder. “Do you feel hungry?”

You think for a moment and then shake your head. You don’t feel hunger, you don’t feel your old emotions anymore, just this overwhelming sensation, like you’re being condensed from every angle. 

Wesker’s other hand is on your lower back. His thumb digs into the divot of your spine, you feel the protrusion just as he does. “Good,” he says, more to himself than you, “good.”

He leaves then, and you collapse to the corner of your room in a heap of limbs. 

The next time you see him, you are at his feet, both in this sprawling dark room, filled with computers and fancy monitors, the buzz of fans and the hum of the screens. 

People drift in and out, they look at you and then look away, like a prolonged stare will make them go blind. They talk to him only, about his job and many other things. 

Wesker’s adorned you with a collar, a leather one. It says something on it, you feel over the embossing with your fingers. Patient, it reads, followed by a string of numbers. In the center, there’s a thick metal ring to which he’s fastened a thin winding chain. Just thicker than a jewelry chain, it clinks as you rest your head on his thigh. 

Every second you spend with him, you feel your thoughts grow muddy. Your memories, wants, and needs all smoothed over once his fingers wind in your hair. His flesh is so cold that it stings, a soothing rush against your warm body. 

Wesker tilts his head to look down at you from his desk. His hand slips down, ghosting over your cheek until you hear the telling clink of the chain. He pulls you up, up, up just to position you in his lap. His thighs part yours, indirectly hiking up the flimsy material of your hospital gown. It’s two sizes too big, the fabric had run down to your knees. Now here you are, baring yourself to him unceremoniously. 

“How are you feeling, pet?” His expression shifts so easily from mean to smug. He is all-knowing and patient, waiting for you to find your words.

Speech comes harder and harder each time you speak, like you’re closing in on your word limit. “Good…” You squirm under his gaze, a bug under a magnifying glass. “Feel good.”

“Is that right?” With one hand on your chain, the other trails behind you. Wesker grabs the base of your growing tail. He digs his thumb into the flesh and you whine, your spine pulled straight. Your hips twitch faintly and you turn away. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He continues to massage your flesh, pleasure washing over you in waves.

You don’t feel in control of yourself, turning back to face him like you’re on autopilot. The light of the monitors shine on his face, casting him in an artificial green. They do nothing to displace his crimson eyes— they glow red despite everything.

“You’re taking well to it,” he says, looking over you, “perfect.”

The praise makes you smile, canines spilling over your bottom lip. He coaxes your mouth open, admiring them once more. Wesker leans in and drags his tongue along your teeth. He licks into your mouth before he kisses you, saliva drools down your chin from where your mouths connect. 

Wesker plays with your budding tail, so close to the curve of your ass. The feeling is indescribable. Each stroke of your tail makes your pussy preen, glistening with slick through the wiry hair. 

He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, your eyes closed as you hear rustling on his end. Then his hand stops massaging your tail just to grab the base and squeeze and your face shrivels up as you cum unexpectedly.

Your orgasm feels like it’s attacking you, you can’t get air down as fast as you’re letting it out. You’re crying out more than you’re moaning, hips stuttering, inadvertently searching for something to fill you up. 

Wesker runs his fingers through your hair, calming you, studying you as he presses the head of his cock into your dripping hole. Your nails dig into your palms, enough to draw blood. You mewl, panting openly into the silence. 

He lets you do the work, grinding against his cock. It fills you up just right, like you were made for it, kissing your cervix every time your hips meet. 

Why is he doing this? There’s so many unanswered questions when you’re around him, it feels like every pitched whine and keening motion are all anticipated—like you are a hypothesis and he’s testing his theory.

He spreads you wide, letting you lean against him as he parts you open like the Red Sea, steadily meeting each torturous grind into you. You moan, drooling all over yourself, mindless and full and unable to remember anything outside the four walls of this facility— anything other than the stretch of his cock and how his fingers dig into your flesh hard enough to bruise. 

You paw at his chest, unsure where to put your hands and what to do about the maelstrom of emotions coursing through you. Your cunt pulses with a need you’ve never felt before. This unwitting, unending subservience to Wesker, a pull as certain and assured as your heartbeat.

The chain clinks and jingles, gentle as it sits between your breasts. You can feel the cold metal against your sternum, cold like him, slowly warming from your body heat.

“Has anyone known you like this before?” He asks, eyes heavy, throat bobbing. A perfect picture of a man, not a hair out of place.

You think and think but you cannot remember. Your memories start and end with Wesker, with that white room and the needles and this collar that is as second nature as your skin.

Your answer ends up being an intelligible string of sounds and noises as you wilt around his cock, melting into a perfect puddle that he, no doubt, was expecting. You have your fill, the sudden lifts and drops of your hips have him violently slamming into your cervix. Yet, you’ve never felt more alive.

You cum a second time, lifting your hips, revealing the sodden state of his cock, coated in your cream, glazed like a donut. More leaks out of your overwhelmed cunt as you mewl and whine despite yourself.

Not needing instruction, you return to your knees and with a trembling stature, go to finish him off. His cum leaves a film of him in the inside of your mouth, it makes you feel as close to him as you possibly can— your tail flops eagerly on the floor behind you. For the first time at the facility, you feel this blooming happiness.

Wesker never touches you again after that.

You are far from perfect.

An amalgamation of various drugs and clinical trials, one of the sparse surviving subjects of the experiments Wesker has run. None of them being ethical, documented, or consensual. He’s very good at making it seem like it’s all three of those things— the only reason he does so is purely because it affords better results.

The virus strain’s growth in you is finally complete. You are something that has never been seen before. A deadly beast of limber frame and lethal strength, a mouth full of sharp teeth and unyielding loyalty. Somewhere along the line your intelligence was lost, but you are still useful.

Wesker takes samples of your blood for replication. Everything he needs for his viral research is housed in your cells. There are still problems that need to be worked out before mass production, of course. Your tendency to self-soothe, your obsessive nature, and your overreliance— more psychological aspects that can eventually be trained out of the incoming fleet.

The heavy chain around your neck weighs you down to the floor, more like shackles than anything truly restrictive— but you lay there as if your bondage is functional. Your loyalty is so intriguing. But you have served your purpose. He has you taken away to be put down.

Because Wesker desires perfection.

[maekendia]

how would wesker, leon, luis react if they saw the reader wearing a mini skirt or a low-cut outfit?

headcanon pls 🥺🥺

love you

i love you too! hope you enjoy. :)

~ 18+ MINORS DNI ~

~

Leon

Leon gets so nervous anytime you wear anything revealing.

LITERALLY STARING.

You tease him so much, bending over and adjusting your top.

“Please, come here.”

He makes you sit on his lap.

He whines every time you shift slightly.

Eventually he gets tired of your teasing.

He makes you ride him with the skirt still on.

Wesker

“Who are you wearing that for? Huh?”

Undressing you with his eyes.

He pulls your skirt up to look under.

“No panties? slut.”

He picks you up and practically throws you onto the bed.

As soon as you hit the bed he’s immediately undressing you.

“You’re gonna be a good little slut for me.”

Luis

“Espléndida”

He smiles so wide.

He literally cannot stop looking at you.

Practically drooling.

He kisses you all over telling you how gorgeous you look.

Him worshipping your body.

The skirt doesn’t stay on for long.

[madsfrank]

How would the Dead by Daylight Killers(Mastermind, Trickster, and Ghostface) would react to a Survivor! Himbo! Male! Reader that's a bit like Ken from the Barbie movie?

Himbo! Reader is a 6'6 powerhouse of a guy whose heart of gold, cheerful demeanor, and great sense of fashion makes up for his lack of braincells!

He's just so nice to literally everyone, even Killers lol

(you can delete this ask if you want)

'*•.¸♡ SFW II HC 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝕳𝖎𝖒𝖇𝖔! 𝕾𝖚𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖛𝖔𝖗 ♡¸.•*'

-ˏˋDirectoryˊˎ -ˏˋ Masterlist ˊˎ -ˏˋ Mastermind ˊˎ -ˏˋ Trickster ˊˎ -ˏˋGhostface ˊˎ

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

………..Chris?

No like seriously this man is going to stare at you and be like “ah my long lost Redfield.” Especially if you’re nice.

Honestly, he’s probably going to maul you more since you remind him so of his beloved friend-zone situationship.

However, if you start giving him fashion advice? He’ll hook you….but you may or may not see him in the next trial with more than just black leathers.

I feel like you would always be the last alive and of you play into his silly mind games, he may let you get hatch. Maybe.

Either way, all your fellow survivors are extremely jealous you’ve somehow managed to survive even sometimes around Wesker.

It may get so bad that wesker will actually discard the real Chris Refield because your too much of a fun toy to play with.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

First of all, who hurt you? Why are you trying to befriend this man?

Secondly, the trickster is hardly nice in any trials. You will be getting some knives launched at you. Advice? Sharpen his blades for him and after each trial to win him over.

Yeah, he’s still gonna kill you. But at least it will be more painless than what the others get.

If you’re really insistent and somehow convince him you want to really befriend him, not just another fan, he may even let you stay in his realm. The little studio apartment that the entity lets him keep.

I swear the man would probably completely change. Instead of the hyper on stage attitude he’s probably be a bit more…chill? How he is with his manager mostly.

You are physically at an advantage against him, he’ll probably admire you for that, which will give you some lenience with him on allowing other survivors into his realm.

Just don’t get too cocky and don’t trash his place either!

Not to mention that every time you go back to the campfire, you are getting some major outfit changes, he’s totally going to force you to dress like he does. Not even an option to say no. If you have any taste, it’s gonna be his.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Now this, this is fun.

You’re a powerhouse of a man, yes? Perfect.

Danny is a short king. Ideal.

You are carrying him on your back. In trials. To hunt down other survivors. He does not care.

Ok yes, the other survivors are laughing their asses off but also getting slashed in the throat so who really wins?

This is the fastest friend setup you will ever witness.

Also you’re carrying him bridal style now everywhere. Final.

Not to mention this man is gonna want your help in designing his new costumes. You think there should be hot pink flames on his mask? There should be hot pink flames on his mask. You get the point.

Needless to say you are getting hatch every single trial. Also, any of your closest friends are also getting hatch. Plus, a houseparty at his realm.

Danny is pretty chill ngl, so expect him only to kill you if he wants to show you a new technique he just learned.

“Dude, check this out” and you get gutted, but hey! At least it was pretty cool right? You literally end up giving him pointers while verging on blood loss.

So great, you’ve become the Ghostface’s #1, and you’re never getting rid of him!

[weskie]

Perfectionist (Albert Wesker x afab!Reader)

18+ | this man deserves to hump the bed, oral sex (reader receiving), afab anatomy gn!reader, amab version here | Fic Directory

Particular.  Methodical. Precise.

Starved.

All words fit to describe the way Wesker handles you.  Even now, even with his face buried between your legs, he works with such intense mindfulness.  Every swipe of his tongue, each bruising nibble to your thighs or heady suckle to your swollen bud is done with the sole intention of bringing you the most pleasure possible.  

Wesker is a perfectionist, and you are the canvas upon which he will paint.  He will carve the beauty of your bliss into this world one swipe at a time, for hours on end if he must. Even in the midst of such a primal deed, he is nothing but grace– until he isn’t.  Until you catch, by sheer luck, the sight of his hips grinding down against the bed.  Just once. 

Just one little slip of his self control.

But how fucking euphoric to know you push him to such extremes.  That the mere taste of your nectar can unravel his unyielding poise is enough to undo you.  With your hands in his hair, gripping, tugging, voice squeaking and pleading, you feel the lightning strike of your release burst through you.  It tingles into your limbs, down your spine.  You arch and squirm, but he holds you in place effortlessly.

He always does.

And he doesn’t stop…  

He laps at you through all of it, fingers beckoning slick from your quivering cunt to feed his insatiable appetite.  His little sounds aren’t lost on you.  The heavy, panted breaths; the little moan here or there; that one particularly drawn out hum of delight when your thighs clamped tight around his head.  

You peer from under heavy eyelids when you feel his lips at your thighs once more, peppering soft kisses as you come down from your release.  To your surprise, his gaze is anything but soft– so unlike his actions.  You find him staring with determined, voracious eyes– red as ever, boring deep into you.  The juxtaposition ignites the strangest blendings of anticipation and adoration.  He’s promising you silently and loudly all at once: you belong to him. 

You are his down to the molecular level and beyond– to the little building blocks of each and every atom in your body. He has made his claim.

The fingers within you continue their motions and his thumb falls to your tender bud.  Wesker is silent as he works you back to madness, basking in the trembling of your legs, nuzzling against the inside of your thigh to feel and watch each and every reaction.  

You can see him faltering again.  So subtle, but you catch the way his hips move. Poor thing. His pants must feel so tight by now… 

You wish he wasn’t so damn dignified all the time.  If he’d only accept that he was allowed the simple pleasures, that he could let go of some of that pride and hump the bed like any normal man.  God, you’d fucking love to see it.  Even just that little gyration was enough to make you clench around his digits.

You can see in his eyes that he’s doing everything in his power to resist it.  

You use your grip in his hair to push him back to your aching core.  His lips curl in a smirk at your clit and you wish more than anything that you could kiss that damned look off his face.  

“Mm, god!” You mewl, knowing full well what such an exclamation means to him. Not a plea to a higher power, no… 

That title is his. 

“So, so good…” you gasp, pushing up to meet his soft tongue. Through the haze, you see it happen again. The smallest arch of his back, the lightest rocking of his hips. 

Is that what he needs? 

“That's– that's it!” 

Again. 

“Al… oh god!” 

Let him know how good he’s doing.

You resist biting back a moan, just to further test the waters. You let those little whimpers sing freely, let his name fall from your lips and your hands tug and pull at his hair. You even dig one of your heels into his back, and then you hear it. 

Nearly silent, Wesker's gasping, open-mouthed whine reverberates against your sopping folds. The sound dances to your ears, more beautiful than any melody to ever grace the world. 

Your fingers curl tighter in his locks, pressing him closer. With your back arched and feet braced, you grind up against his face. Both of his arms lock around your thighs as if, by some measure, to remind you that it’s only by his good graces that you’re allowed to use him so wantonly. 

Another weak noise quivers against your aching cunt, and you find it in yourself to fight off the tendrils of release seeping through every fiber of your being just to watch him.

“I love it!” You gasp, perhaps just a little too breathily.  “L-Love you!”

Which, of course, earns you that reaction you so desperately want.  This time your treat is two sharp rocks of his hips and the unmistakable creak of the bedframe protesting against his strength.

You’re playing such a dangerous game with him.  What if you get what you want, hm?  What if you make the man-made god come in his pants?  What then?

Surely there will be consequences for pushing him into such a position.  Perhaps he’ll make you lick him clean.  No, no… that’s hardly a punishment.  What if he threw you over his knee?

Also not quite the worst case scenario.

So you sing for him.  With every little breath, you vocalize how good it feels, how good he feels, until suddenly those subtle grinds against the bed are anything but and he’s practically growling against your heat.  

His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed, tongue fucking in and out of you while his nose presses to your clit, and he humps against the bed as though the panopticon of his pride had never been there at all to observe such a desperate act unbecoming of a god.

The sight sends you hurtling over the edge, back rising from the bed as you shiver and shake and gush more slick for his greedy tongue.  His name falls from your lips over and over like a prayer, and by the time your back hits the bed once more you hear and feel him finding his own release as he thrusts away at nothing.

The thought alone of what just happened is enough to make you see stars…

You pet through his hair affectionately, cooing praise until those piercing eyes crack open and stare lazily through the haze.  His mouth stays pressed at the base of your mound, slick glistening at the tip of his nose and the curve of his cheek– too invested in painting his masterpiece to realize he’d become part of it.

Eventually though, you manage to get him to crawl back up.  You thumb away at the mess, utterly hypnotized when he grabs your wrist and sucks your digit clean. You can see it in his eyes… You feel it in the way he kisses you.

Ever the perfectionist, Albert Wesker is far from finished with you.

[yanderestarangel]

★ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐑𝐄 || 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒/𝐎 || 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

♡ ┆TW: mild sadism, ftm reader, fingering, exhibitionism, overstimulation, sex toys, degradation, aggressive sex, anal sex, squirt, afab anatomy.

♡ ┆Being with someone older and more experienced than you like your current boyfriend, Wesker, was always a new adventure – especially since he knew exactly where to move, squeeze and tease to make you turn into a wet mess.

♡ ┆Wesker was already forty-five years old, however this old man fucks you for hours and loves to prolong your foreplay. He knows how sensitive your body is, how small, well-made touches of his fingers or even his words can affect you; the blond man likes to whisper dirty things in your ear when no one is noticing in public, he wants to make you reach your limit without even touching you physically - after all, this also shows how good he is, increases his pride and excitement on several levels.

♡⁠┊"Sometimes it's pathetic how you get wet so easily, boy." The older man would speak with a mischievous and practically invisible smile on his lips, seeing the obvious wet stain on the fabric of your clothes - obviously his words had affected you to the point that your pussy was extremely lubricated and begging for him; however, your boyfriend was a sadist and would make you stay like that for a while longer before you went back home so he could fuck you to his heart's content.

♡ ┆Foreplay with him lasted for hours, his blue eyes enjoying following your every reaction and how you writhed under his ministrations. He forced you to suck his fingers and lubricate them enough so he could stimulate your clit while he used his mouth to suck your nipples until they were sore – he marked your breasts with bites and hickeys so you could remember later how he fucked you until your brain short-circuited. "I haven't even started and you've already cum twice? God, boy, you really are extremely weak..." Albert said in a calm tone, his face was stoic as he removed his fingers from your pussy and looked at your juices on his fingers - looking at you with that air of superiority that only he had.

♡ ┆He'll use sex toys to push you to the limit too - from butt plugs to vibrators and dildos. Wesker will tie you up with ropes around your wrists and adorn the curves of your body while you kiss him and he can access your holes, shoving a small silicone dildo in your ass and making you rub your pussy against his leg and seek some relief from your throbbing clit, but when you're close to cumming, he'll stop his ministrations on your body to prolong your pleasure and suffering.

♡ ┆Wesker likes to do anal with you, he stimulates your clit while holding your arms behind your back - making you tilt your hips more for better access. He's a sex-crazed old man, making you cum multiple times on his cock until he realizes you're about to pass out from cumming so much. "Come on baby, can you hold on a little longer? Don't cum yet, I'm not done with you yet... I love breaking you like the needy slut that you are." Wesker would growl as he slapped your ass hard and watched your legs tremble because of your desire to cum, but he hadn't allowed you to come yet, making you try to keep your sanity and obey his orders.

♡ ┆Albert also likes to tease you in exposed places, like a picnic, it was supposed to be romantic but you soon end up with Wesker's fingers stuck deep in your wet pussy and with the blond man smiling behind his sunglasses, watching your every reaction, from the embarrassment and fear of being caught to the excitement in your irises as he made you cum and left you trembling. With a smug smile he would just make you taste yourself and give you a kiss right after. "Good boy... You're a damn nymphomaniac, aren't you?"

♡ ┆But he would never hurt you on purpose, every time you felt uncomfortable with something and said the safe word he would stop right away and check if you were okay enough to continue. "Sorry sweetheart, are the ropes hurting you? We can take a break if you want." He would speak in a calm voice as he did what you wanted and checked to see if you needed anything else - if you weren't feeling well enough to continue fucking him, he would just do an aftercare and make sure you were safe.

♡ ┆He would fetch you water, food and clean any traces of pain on your body, whispering soothing words, quite unlike the rough and dominant man who enjoys seeing you broken from too many orgasms. He puts you to sleep in his arms and the next day he treats every bruise he made on your body, from the rough spanks on your ass that turned purple, to the hickeys on your neck - he is careful when he puts ointment on your cunt and sees you tremble, making him smile and place a soft kiss on your thigh. "Calm down my baby, when you are less sore we can have sex again. But until then, I will take care of you like the handsome prince that you are." Wesker says as he showers you with kisses, he always heard that showing affection was a weakness, but for you, he liked being a soft and caring old man.

♡ ┆Bonus: When he realizes that you are becoming more addicted to sex than he is, and even you are lasting many rounds and even making him cum before, this man will break into a genuine and amazed smile - seeing you jumping hard on his cock and begging for more. "Fuck, I created a little monster, didn't I?" Wesker would groan as he came again in your womb, making you whimper from being so full. "But you are my monster, daddy's little monster."

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

[boobav]

angst? fluff? with wesker

Blooming colours of red, of purple, blue and yellow. In the spring flowers, in your skin, bruises. Deeper each time. Maybe one less, maybe one more.

"Again," he says, each time, each failure, sly yet monotone. A glint in his eye, every movement watched, tracked, destroyed. Cat-like precision. A blow to your side, a grip on your wrist, iron-tight, punishing. That smirk that you know so well.

Training with Wesker goes beyond the word. Some indescribable mix of torture and boundless satisfaction when you finally get a hit in. His strength is beyond human, beyond your understanding, and fighting it feels impossible. A daily dance of futility. Until it's not. Until your fist finds his chest, beating his speed, beating his experience, and he stops to huff a congratulations.

"Impressive. It only took you two hours."

Sarcastic. Only the quietest hint of sincerity. He doesn't have to pretend, not with you, not anymore. Raccoon City is a thing of the past, a tiring lesson in patience, his old veneer of Captain is no longer necessary.

"It's faster than last time." You say. Sweat shines along your skin. Your breath is sharp, measured. Something else he's taught you.

"And more than anyone else has achieved, I suppose."

That teacher role he thought so pointless in the station still sticks with him. Does he realise? The way his hands smooth over your wounds, wrap your knuckles with something akin to care. The way his hands smooth up your waist, along your arms, to place them in the proper position. His reprimands, his praises. They spit out sharp and calculated. That indifference of his hides poorly his attentive gaze.

You will be better. Stronger. Smarter. Because he is training you so. Efficiency is simply a given. The blood on your hands can be kissed away.

"Again."

And so it continues. He hits your weak spots, holds back only to the necessary extent. As not to crush you, to shatter each bone into dust. The curve of flesh and muscle no longer distracts you like it did back then. A marvel of humanity, a statue made real, tantalising even with the knowledge you own. That he's a monster, a murderer, a manipulator. Each trait perfected.

He sweeps your legs from under you, scoffs at your lack of reaction. You simply lie there and stare at the ceiling, chest heaving, eyes drifting shut.

"I can't do this anymore."

He considers you for a moment. Admires seems the more optimistic word, the one you use to cope with the day to day, the one that used to make sense. Does it still hold true?

He offers his hand, and with a sigh, you let him pull you to your feet. Your bodies collide, and you let your face fall to the crook of his neck, trust him with your weight. His hand squeezes your waist and slithers up, runs along your bare skin before raising up to pet your hair. To placate you just like he used to.

"Tomorrow then," he says, his voice in your ear, "I expect a better performance."

[forthevillains]

Albert Wesker headcanons (pt.2)

!NSFW! (fem. reader)

~ Wesker is definitely dominant, especially when it comes to sex. He’s been like that ever since he lost virginity. Even then, when he was inexperienced, he knew for sure what he was doing and would insist on being on top

~ when you two started dating though, he already had perhaps too much experience… To say the least, he’s a very kinky man, often difficult to please, though it changed when he met you

~ considering how rough he can get, if he cared for you and planned on having a long term relationship, he’d offer you a safe word in case he gets carried away

~ he likes your voice, a lot. When you moan due to his actions, it turns him on even more than he already was and he craves your pleasure, maybe even more than you do yourself

~ he often makes you come on his fingers, loving how you cry out when that happens, begging him to stop, only for his movements to fasten, making your legs tremble and head dizzy, you have no other choice than to let him. He knows you like it and he wants to keep going until you physically can’t anymore;)

~ even though he’s trying to be gentle with you, he gets very rough in bed if you let him. He has no problem gripping your flesh tight enough to bruise, biting your skin as well. Sometimes he gets carried away and makes you bleed, but once he realizes he’ll shower the spot with gentle kisses as an apology (though he’s still gonna do it again)

~ if there’s one thing Wesker can’t resist it’s buying you expensive and erotically revealing lingerie. He prefers to fingerfuck you in it so that he can keep your soaked panties as a reward

~ as much as he loves receiving, he’s actually very good at giving too. He loves going down on you, even though he mostly does it when he’s too tired for anything else or when you’ve been very good to him. He adores the faces you make, how you throw your head back, how your shaky hands slide in his hair only to desperately pull him closer. He’d hold onto your hip with one hand while he’d have two fingers buried deep inside you as he pleasures you with his tongue. It’s also his favorite way to overstimulate you as he can always grip your thighs so that you can’t squirm away

~ quickies are a necessity. No matter how crazy he’s going from the fact that he doesn’t have enough time for you, he just has to release all the tension and stress and if you’re around and up for it - he won’t waste the opportunity. His office is the best place for them. He wouldn’t want anyone else seeing his precious little angel in such a state of bliss

~ you’ve been rarely given the opportunity to be on top, however when you have… Oh did he enjoy it. He might’ve let you be on top, but little did you know how much he’d put you through in return. If you’re shy, it’s even better for him. He’d keep his hands off of you, ordering you to ride him as he makes you look at him. If you dared dodge him in any way, he’d just forcefully turn your head to look back at him. He’d watch you, how your cheeks turned red from embarrassment and how you helplessly tried to bounce on his thick length, a moan slipping from your mouth every single time you did it, teary eyes from the overwhelming sensation. You felt ashamed of yourself, but it felt too good to stop… Of course he’d only torture you like that until he’s had enough. Then he’d grab your hips to keep you still and pound into you hard enough to make you see stars

~ he doesn’t own toys as he thinks they’re useless. He can make you feel all types of ways on his own. Though he does like to tie you up so that he can have his way with you and push your limits. He likes to see you try and get away, knowing he can do anything he wants to you

~ his favorite position would still be missionary. Call it old school, but it’s the best way for him to keep everything under control. He watches the slightest expressions of yours when he fucks you like that, holding you close to him, giving you the slightest of comfort while he abuses your tight hole to the point when you’re probably not gonna be able to walk for hours. If you’ve grown used to his size, he might just take one of your legs and push your knee to your chest to get even deeper. He’s not gonna let go until he’s satisfied

~ he’s a quick learner. He knows exactly what to do and where to touch you to make you melt, whether it is intimate or not

~ to be fair I feel like he’s a boobie guy. Doesn’t matter how big they are, he just loves them. He loves to kiss them, suck on them, hold them, even just look at them. He loves it and he definitely stares when you’re changing in front of him

~ definitely not a condom user. He either cums inside or on you. Though he surely prefers to release inside as he does have a breeding kink;)

~ he would love to watch his seed spill from your hole only to push it back in with his fingers every single time. He finds it very amusing

~ if you decide to blow him off on your own, he’ll absolutely melt. He might be the one in charge at all times, but the way you suck him off so good always catches him off guard. Maybe it’s not even your skill but you in general, yet he couldn’t care less. He loves how you look up at him when you do so, how you teasingly swirl your tongue around him. He can’t get enough and trust me when I say he could watch you like that forever

[messenger-of-babel]

Snake in the Garden

Summary: You know Wesker is bad for you, but you still can't pull away from him. (Albert Wesker x reader)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: I stayed up to make this, I got tumblr ON MY PHONE BROWSER since I’m away from my computer and fought someone’s Mac, so here is todays post, even though I’m back from a Halloween party and tireddd. It’s a few more resi ones to round out this last week, it’s crazy that we are nearly done with this month. Warnings: manipulation and reader isn’t explicitly female but I do use a reference of reader being like Eve but it’s not strictly a gender thing more like a role thing?? Anyways enjoy my work and I’ll tidy up the last few if I need when I’m back at my PC. Much love~!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When you were a kid, you had always been taught by the orphanage directors to make good choices and stay out of trouble. The church next door took care of your lessons, teaching you values such as to be good and kind, and to resist temptation.

So how you ended up with Albert Wesker was completely beyond you.

Yet you couldn’t stay away, a moth to a flame. If your old church director could see you now, surely he would pull you aside and make you do bible study. But you were grown now, an adult who could make adult decisions. And Albert just so happened to be yours.

You were on the ship with him currently, while he plotted his domination of the world. You knew it was wrong, knew that his plan for the future was wrong. You weren’t very religious anymore ever since leaving the orphanage, but you couldn’t help the rhetoric that swirled around in your head.

He pretended to be a god, talked of a new age. He sat on this ship in safety as if it was an arc, while it was primed with enough virus to kill the rest of the world. Clad in his leather, gloves covering his hands and glasses over his eyes. He was the furthest thing from a god, apart from the power. But his power came to him unnaturally, a cold and eerie strength that made your skin crawl when he came close. 

He was the devil, if there was a narrative, but your heart couldn’t convince your mind of that. Every time you saw him your heart fluttered disgustingly in your chest, making your pulse race. When he stopped his work, the endless scanning of documents and monitor screens, he had such a charming smile that chased the words “I think we should break up” right out of your throat. It was the way that he pressed against your back to see what you were doing, the warmth from his chest that settled into your back and relaxed your muscles instinctually. The way that you missed how his breath hit the back of your neck and fanned against your cheek when he pulled away.

You couldn’t pull away, despite how badly you wanted to. You lay awake at night, tossing in the bed that’s big enough for the two of you yet always only occupied by one.  When you wake you’d try to leave, struggle against the invisible ropes that he had wound across your heart before tightening them the next day. 

“What are you up to?” You ask softly one night, wrapping your nightgown over you tighter. Your feet are clad only in thin slippers, making the chill from the ship seep into your feet. He has his back turned to you, monitors flickering with life while he stared leant forward, chin on his interlocked fingers. He hums slightly, chair spinning silently so he can look at you from the side.

“Working.”

Of course he was. He was always working, his newly enhanced body requiring very little rest. If he needed rest he would sleep in his chair, office door locked. However you still caught him in the rare occasion sliding into place next to you, arm curling around your stomach when he didn’t think you’d notice. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, padding to his side. You don’t know why you decided to seek him out on a restless night, normally trying to pry yourself as far away from him to escape your heart that ached so badly for him. 

“Nothing that you need to be concerned about, dear heart.” He murmurs, calculating with his gaze. “Why are you out of bed?”

You shrug. “Just couldn’t sleep.” You murmur. He hums, uncharacteristically warm. When you come to his side he snakes an arm around your waist, an action that makes alarm bells ring in your head but also makes your skin burn with excitement.

You hated the way that he had you around his little finger. You knew it, he knew it, and yet it was still a game that you both played day after day. You felt shame at the way he had trained you, starving you of affection then showering with so much that it made your heart clench. The way that your eyes would now follow him when he walked past you, to see if he would glance your way or pretend you didn’t exist. Just when you were getting run down, just when you thought that he had forgotten about you, he came back with sweet words and a softer touch.

 His fingers dug into your side, dimpling the flesh with the leather of his gloves. "You should go back to bed, Dear heart" he says, voice a low rumble. His breath fans past your ear, making you shiver. "You'll get cold if you stay out here for too long. We don't want you to get sick now, would we?"

Albert always had a habit of doing that. Soon after you had both started dating, a shotgun romance in itself, he had begun getting interested in your health. Taking a look at your medical records and doctors appointments soon morphed into him conducting them himself, stating that he didn't trust other doctors with something as precious as you. That morphed into him dictating what you could do and when you go could out, Wesker worrying that you could get sick, or hurt, or something would affect the delicate balance of your system.

Precious.

That was the word that he would use when he did give you the time of day, hands stroking over your skin with rough palms. Palms that had killed and executed and committed sins that would have God paling on his throne, suddenly ghosting over your skin like you were glass. He made you feel more fragile than you were, and some days you really did feel that way.

Some days you felt like you were getting sick, despite being healthy the day before. It would be the worrying of Wesker that put the seed of doubt into your mind, suddenly displaying a symptom that he had listed earlier that morning. As soon as he caught sight of it he'd send you to bed or keep you in one of the many rooms on the ship dedicated for you, always soft and comfortable and luxurious.

 It was a contrast to the bleak and military interior of the rest of the ship, a contrast of how he treated you. When you had his attention, you were royalty. When you didn't, it was like you were just another staff member.

Yet you still shake your head, half in response to him and half in shame that you let him toy with you like this, that there was a part of your heart that was so deeply in love it wanted to forget everything that he was doing. "I won't get sick," you mumble. "I'll go back to bed soon."

He raises his eyebrows above the frames of his glasses. "Are you now? What are you going to do in the meantime then?" he purrs, his voice a soft timbre that resonates through your bones. You shrug and the hand gripping your waist tightens.

"Can I stay with you?" you ask quietly. You didn't know yourself why you were seeking him out, only that your brain buzzed at the idea of staying with him a bit more, to have his eyes trained on you.

He sighs through his nose and shakes his head. "I'm afraid this work is too brash for you. Come, let's go back to bed." He pats your hip, and you look at him hesitantly.

"Both of us?" you ask softly, making him chuckle.

"Yes, both of us. I could use some time to lie down. I'll stay with you till you fall asleep if that is your concern.”

He slides you off of his lap, standing and pushing his chair back in. With a gloved hand on your back he guides you back to your bedroom. Your heart races and your head feels light at having him this close, like a drug coursing through your veins.

Your bedroom is dark, lit only by the lights from outside and a single lamp by the bed. Your sheets were tangled from the way that you had kicked them off, soft folds rippling down the side of the bed. When you crawl onto the surface, more excited to sleep than you had for ages, he bends and removes his shoes before dragging the sheets back onto the mattress.

You get situated in bed and turn the light off, sickened at yourself for getting this close to the man again. The man that wouldn't let you leave, wouldn't let you go ashore alone, who wouldn't trust you doing things you had done by yourself before meeting him. The man who had destroyed cities, taken lives, manipulated innocent people and was actively doing it still. But this was the same man who had wooed you with sweet words and false promises, who had approached you about your research into genetic structuring and played the part of a perfect crush. Tall, handsome, smart.

If the old sisters from the church could see you now, curled in the arms of a mass murderer with your heart content, you know they would be hanging their heads in shame. For following someone who was convinced that they were above mankind, but told you those words in a tone so honey coated you could have believed them to be truth.

You let those few tears you produce drip into the pillowcase, exhaling and closing your eyes. If this story was written in the Bible, you know that Albert would consider this place the arc, a safe haven in the destruction of the earth.

But you knew better.

You knew that this was the garden, with its soft beds and easy to fall into luxury, yet boxed in by high walls that were forbidden to cross. You were Eve, peaceful in the garden but curious of the world outside you. You wanted Albert to be Adam, the counterpart to Eve, but still you knew better.

Wesker was the snake that slunk down from the trees and whispered into your ear, soft and buttery sweet. Who told you honeyed words from lips that dripped with venom, eyes beady and always waiting for an opportunity to strike. You knew this, you knew better.

But every time you felt yourself recovering from the isolation of him he drew you right back, and you sank your teeth into that apple once again. You let his honeyed words wrap around your brain in a pleasant fog, completely unaware that he had sunk his fangs into your neck.

[alespov]

“He’s in my head so much, I might as well give him some.”