#y/n Albert

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter In The Air

Grace Clinton x Y/n Albert

Warnings: Y/n snaps, feeling lost, internal homophobia, not my best but not my worst so…

You try, really you do but Grace either doesn’t notice you like want to be left alone or she simply doesn’t care.

“So what you doing this weekend.” Grace asks a hint of hope in her voice, you’ve shot her down every time she’s asked you to hang out.

You’ve been shutting her down for months, simply stating you have plans with someone else. You don’t you couldn’t you only talk to a handful of players and even it’s a push for you to do that.

But Grace has finally worn you down, you can’t take how her voice sounds so heartbroken and her shoulders sag in defeat her eyes loose their little spark and the way she says her Gs after always sound so sad.

“Nothing.” You say quietly kicking the ball back to her, Grace poses momentarily you’ve never not had plans, she’s never gotten this far.

“Would you maybe want to hang out this weekend, we-you could come over to mine and just chill or we can go shopping or get food or the cinema.” Grace rattles off different things you both can do before realising she needs a response from you.

“Eh yeah your house sounds nice just chill.” You say nervously looking anywhere but at the older girl. Grace nods clearing her throat trying to remain cool as she practically vibrates with excitement. “Yeah perfect cool, Saturday work for you.” You nod “perfect my place at 5 I’ll order food we can just chill and watch a movie.”

You feel sick for the rest of the week , you and Grace alone in her house just the two of you, you curse yourself for not being strong enough to say no, but Grace is so kind and soft you can see it as she runs around your teammates swinging out of them laugh, everyone laughing with her.

As long as you don’t touch her and get her sick it should be ok, you’ll be ok.

You stand on her doorstep hand hovering over the doorbell, you could turn around and leave you think, text her telling her your sick, text her and tell her you fell down the stairs and broke your leg, don’t text her fake your death and move countries, no you can’t she’s to good for that and that’s mean you’re just two friends hanging out nothing more nothing less no need to be so dramatic.

Grace still steps forward to give you a hug every now and then but you always counteract with stepping back. She tries again today as she opens the door but the minute you flinch she stops and offers a sad smile hiding it quickly rubbing her neck and welcoming you in.

The air is tense and you hate it, its your fault. You hate the way the thought follows you through to the living room.

The air is so tense and Grace hates it, its her fault, she didn't mean to make you uncomfortable again, god why does she always make you uncomfortable, you hate hugs she knows this but you're so soft and quite and its all she can think about.

You are all she can think about.

The living room was cozy, bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. A plush, inviting couch sat facing a large TV, and scattered cushions added to the relaxed atmosphere. Grace had clearly made an effort; the coffee table was clear of clutter, and a faint scent of vanilla filled the air. You perched on the edge of the couch, stiff and awkward, while Grace busied herself in the kitchen.

“Pizza okay?” she called out, her voice slightly strained.

“Yeah, fine,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the wall of pictures, arms wrapped around people you recognise as your teamates, her family and some of her friends. You could feel Grace’s gaze on you, and it made your skin crawl. You wished you could just melt into the cushions and disappear.

Grace returned with two cans of soda and a nervous smile. She sat at the opposite end of the couch, leaving a generous gap between you. The distance didn’t ease your discomfort; it only amplified it. You could practically hear the unspoken question hanging in the air: Why are you so uncomfortable?

The pizza arrived, and you ate in near silence, punctuated only by the occasional clinking of cans and the low hum of the TV playing a movie neither of them were really watching. You picked at your food, your appetite completely gone. Every time Grace glanced at you, you looked away, your heart pounding in your chest.

After they finished eating, Grace gathered the empty boxes and cans. When she returned, she hesitated before speaking. “Is everything alright?” she asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Grace persisted, her voice gentle. “You’ve been really quiet.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. The truth was a tangled mess of anxieties you couldn’t articulate. You didn’t want to hurt Grace, but you also couldn’t pretend everything was okay.

“It’s just…” you began, then trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not really good at this kind of thing.”

“This kind of thing?” Grace echoed, tilting her head slightly.

“Hanging out,” you clarified, feeling your cheeks flush. “Just the two of us. I… I don’t do it much.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Grace’s face. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”

Silence descended again, but this time it felt different. The tension hadn’t completely dissipated, but it had shifted, becoming less sharp, more… understanding.

“It’s okay,” Grace said finally, a small smile gracing her lips. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just… be.”

You looked at her then, really looked at her. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and for the first time that evening, you felt a glimmer of ease. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Grace picked up the remote and scrolled through the movie options. “How about a comedy?” she suggested. “Something light?”

You nodded, a small smile mirroring hers. As the movie started, you shifted slightly on the couch, closing the gap between you and Grace just a little. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant. It was a tentative step towards a connection you had been too afraid to make.

As the movie played, Grace occasionally offered quiet comments or chuckled at a funny scene. You found yourself relaxing, drawn into the shared experience. You were still nervous, still self-conscious, but the suffocating anxiety had begun to recede.

Towards the end of the movie, you felt a gentle weight on your shoulder, and the world seemed to collapse in on itsself. You jump throwing yourself away from the girl causing Graces body to fall sideways her head hitting the couch.

"I need to go, I-I'm sorry i-I-I'm so sorry" you stutter not giving the midfielder a second to respond as you race out the door.

You sit in the car unable to move, of course you had to mess it up, you and your sickness. Grace she-she's to good.

The slam of the front door echoed in the quiet house, leaving Grace momentarily stunned. She blinked, her head throbbing where it had connected with the couch. Disorientation quickly gave way to confusion, then a sinking feeling of dread. She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her head, her eyes fixed on the now-empty doorway.

The image of you recoiling, your face contorted in a mixture of fear and panic, played on repeat in her mind. The mumbled apologies, the frantic escape – it was all a blur, a whirlwind of sudden, inexplicable terror.

Grace’s heart ached. She had thought, just for a moment, that things were finally starting to ease. She had felt you relax, seen the flicker of a smile on your face. And then… this.

She stood up, her legs feeling unsteady. The remnants of your shared evening – the half-eaten pizza, the discarded soda cans, the paused movie on the TV screen – seemed to mock her, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

Back in the car, you gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. The image of Grace’s head snapping against the couch replayed in your mind, fueling the rising tide of panic within you. You had hurt her. You had scared her. You had ruined everything.

The word “sickness” echoed in your thoughts, a constant, nagging reminder of the invisible barrier that separated you from others. It wasn’t a physical illness, not in the traditional sense, but it was a sickness nonetheless, one that manifested in crippling anxiety and an inability to connect with people on a normal level.

You started the engine, your hands shaking so badly you almost stalled. As you drove home, tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt a profound sense of shame and self-loathing. You were a mess, a broken thing, incapable of even the simplest social interaction.

Meanwhile, back at Grace's house, she was trying to piece together what had just happened. She replayed the evening in her mind, searching for any clue, any indication that you were about to react so drastically. She remembered the moment your eyes had widened, the way you had flinched away from her touch as if burned.

A chilling thought crept into her mind: Did I do something wrong?

She had been so careful, so mindful of your discomfort. She had avoided touching you, given you space, tried to create a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. But clearly, it hadn’t been enough.

Grace felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. Maybe she was just bad at this. Maybe she was too forward, too eager. Maybe she was just… too much.

She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over your contact. She wanted to text you, to ask you what had happened, to offer her apologies if she had somehow overstepped a boundary. But she hesitated. What if she made things worse? What if she pushed you further away?

She sighed, placing her phone back on the coffee table. She felt lost and confused, adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

The following days were strained. You avoided Grace at practice, keeping your distance, your eyes fixed on the ground whenever she was near. Grace, in turn, respected your space, but her eyes often followed you, filled with a mixture of concern and sadness.

The team noticed the shift in your dynamic. Whispers circulated, curious glances were exchanged. The easy camaraderie that usually characterized their practices felt muted, replaced by an unspoken tension.

One afternoon, after practice, Grace approached you as you were packing your bag. You tensed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can we talk?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the changing room, searching for an escape. But there was nowhere to run.

You nodded slowly, your throat tight with anxiety. Grace led you to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the prying eyes and ears of your teammates.

“What happened Saturday?” she asked, her voice gentle but firm. “You… you seemed really scared.”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out.

Grace waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. Finally, you managed to stammer out a response.

“I… I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to… I just… I panicked.”

“Panicked?” Grace echoed, her brow furrowed. “Why?”

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the tangled mess of anxieties that plagued you, trying to come up with another lie.

"I-Why did you that-why did you put your head there." You felt your stomach twist with unease as you began to turn everything on her, make it her fault, push her away.

The question hung in the air, sharp and accusatory. Grace blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in your demeanor. The gentle concern in her eyes was replaced by a flicker of confusion, then hurt.

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought… we were having a nice time.”

“Well you thought wrong,” you snapped, your voice rising in volume. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, a torrent of pent-up anxiety and self-loathing disguised as anger. “You just… invaded my space. You didn’t even ask.”

“I…” Grace trailed off, her eyes welling up with tears. She felt a lump forming in her throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “I didn’t realize it would make you so upset.”

“Clearly,” you retorted, turning away from her. You couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. It was a mirror reflecting your own brokenness, and you hated it.

Grace stood there for a moment, her heart aching. She wanted to reach out to you, to tell you that it was okay, that she understood. But the wall you had erected between you was too high, too impenetrable.

She turned and walked away, her shoulders slumped in defeat. The quiet corner of the gym suddenly felt colder, emptier.

You watched her go, a hollow feeling settling in your chest. You had pushed her away, just as you had pushed everyone else away. You were alone again, just as you always were.

But this time, it felt different. This time, there was a pang of regret, a flicker of doubt. Had you gone too far? Had you ruined any chance of a real connection with Grace?

[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

[sinsofnivan]

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

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

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

WORD COUNT: 2654. oops

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

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"y, yesh—'m r , reahdyy, pleasheee—,"

a smile tugged on his lips.

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

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

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

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

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

"need to—need to breed you," 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"mpfhhh!"

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

"h, haaah . . what a messy girl—,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i love you too."

+ extra. wesker breeding you. 

end.

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

[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.

[ranposbabe]

(Ongoing) Masterlist

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

To be continued…

[saddleups]

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I could help you decide?”

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

“A slow day for you, Officer Redfield?”

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

“Captain,” you greeted, polite as ever.

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

“It wasn’t my intention, Captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” he pressed, clipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I am not one to play lightly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lay back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Captain!"

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

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

"Tight… so damn good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aceviscontiswife]

I'm really new to Dead by Daylight and I'm really enjoying your fics. So, story prompt:

Reader is a survivor who was just gifted a new outfit by the entity that, unknown to reader includes a pair of remote control vibrating panties. Then reader shows up in a trial with the killer who reader has been flirting with and secretly crushing on and killer (who flirts right back and also has a crush on reader) finds a mysterious remote in their pocket.

I'd love Danny and Frank (separately, please) and anyone else you feel like writing.)

Survivor!Reader wearing remote controlled vibrating panties in a trial

Killers: Danny (Ghostface), Frank (Legion), Wesker.

Afab!Reader. Warnings: petnames such as dollface, babygirl, babe, and dearest. Vibrating panties (that reader was not aware of), masturbation, Wesker’s a bit of an ass at first.

•When you wake up in the cornfields of Coldwind, you don’t suspect anything at first. You were loving your new outfit, it fit you perfectly and showed off your assets. You were hoping to see Ghostface this trial, since you knew this outfit would probably send him into overdrive.

•Its only when you begin to work on a generator when you feel a light vibration against your womanhood. It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your core. Your thighs press together in an attempt to conceal the steadily growing arousal, but it only seems to make it stronger. You had no idea what was causing this, but it had to be some cruel prank of the entity’s.

•Danny was a little confused when he found the small remote in his pocket, and after a few seconds of staring down at the remote in his hand, he pressed one of the buttons.

•It didn’t take Danny very long to find you, all by yourself, wearing the sexiest clothes Danny’s ever seen. That alone was enough to get him hard, but what he saw next nearly sent him insane. You slapped a hand over your mouth, your thighs squirming against each other as you moan against your hand. You could barely even work on the generator… That’s when Danny put two and two together, and oh man, you were in for a treat.

“Oh, dollface…” You whip around to face where the voice—Danny’s voice came from. He was standing behind you, leaning against a stack of crates with a small remote in his hand. You begin to speak, but your words are taken from you and replaced with a gasp as Danny presses one of the remotes buttons, the vibrating sensation in your panties growing even stronger. Danny laughed at the sight, pushing himself off of the crates and taking a step towards you. “Looks like the entity gave us both a gift, hmm?” Danny watches you grab onto the generator to support yourself, a strangled moan escaping your lips as he cranks up the vibrations to their highest setting. “I say we enjoy our treat.”

•When Frank found a small remote in his pocket, he immediately did what anyone would’ve done—he pressed the buttons. All of them.

•Needless to say, you were caught off guard when a there sudden strong vibrating sensation in your panties. It was a lot, also very confusing. After a few seconds, you had grown used to the sensations. It didn’t take long until you were rendered into a hazy, pleasure-filled state of bliss.

•You barely managed to get yourself to the killer shack, leaning against one of the lockers and biting down on your hand to keep quiet. Your free hand was shoved up your shirt, teasing your breasts through your bra.

•That’s how Frank found you, his eyes going wide behind the mask and his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you touch yourself. Your hips were grinding up into the air, and it was only when Frank heard a faint buzzing did he realize what was going on. It was like a flip of a switch, Frank went from shocked and a little confused to very turned on and very aware of what he was doing to you. Trial be damned, Frank was going to enjoy this alot more than killing some idiotic survivors.

“Fuck, babygirl… You couldn’t wait till the trial was over, could you?” You stop in your tracks when you hear Frank, your eyes snapping open to be met with the sight of Frank leaning against shacks doorway, remote in hand. He shakes his head when you stop, pressing one of the buttons on the remote and amplifying the vibrations in your panties. “Didn’t say you could stop, did I?” Frank groans when you begin to touch yourself again, the masked killer reaching down to rub his cock through his jeans. “Good girl… You want me to make it feel even better? I can make you feel amazing, babe.”

•At first, Wesker ignored the small remote in his pocket. He had a job to do, after all. The only distraction he allowed was you, anything else was simply not important to him. It was soon becoming hard to ignore, however, and Wesker angrily admits to himself that he needed to see what this remote did. Maybe it was a gift from the entity? Something to help him out in trials? Wesker was one of the entity’s strongest and smartest killers, he’s earned himself a reward.

•When Wesker eventually presses one of the buttons and nothing happens, he’s a… little upset. How dare the entity give him some useless piece of garbage? He was Albert Wesker, the Mastermind, not one of the Legion’s immature teenagers!

•If only he could’ve seen how you almost folded in on yourself when a surprising, strong feeling of vibrations began to surge through your panties. A gasp escapes your lips, ultimately catching the attention of your concerned teammates. You lie, telling them ‘You thought you saw the killer.’

•You’re barely able to complete the generator with your team, quickly coming up with some excuse to separate from your team, sneaking off to a secluded area of the map to deal with yourself.

•Wesker could hear faint moaning and panting coming from the Garden of Joy’s dark bedroom, and believing it to be an injured survivor, he quickly makes his way to the bedroom. What he saw inside the room wasn’t an injured survivor, it was you. Oh… that’s what the remote does? Wesker was quick to realize what was going on when he saw you on the rundown bed, hands covering your mouth and your hips jerking up into the air. He laughs, catching your attention.

“So this is what you do instead of helping your team? Tsk, so predictable.” You couldn’t stop the shameless moan that left you, as well as the breathless pleads for Wesker to help you out. He was enjoying this more than he’d admit… the sight of you like this was something Wesker had wanted to see for some while now, and it only made him even more aroused to know that he was the cause of your overwhelming pleasure. “Already so overstimulated and you haven’t even been touched…” Wesker laughs, shaking his head and taking a step towards you. “Come here, dearest… This is only the beginning.”

***

I actually had a lot of fun writing this! It was new for me, and I honestly loved it :) Hope you enjoy, love ya! ❤️

[poundstonaira]

Mascara - Albert Wesker x F!Reader

A/N - There is one scene thats a bit ... uncomfortable (?) but for the sake of my trauma and others, I was NOT going to write a non-con scene. Absolutely not. There's is barely any smut in this because I believe storytelling can be good without smut. It's not everyday sex ngl.

CW: Obsessed Wesker, Stalking, minor dubcon intercourse scene, Cat and Mouse vibes, Dry Humping, Gun Violence, Age Gap, Kidnapping, Wesker being an Asshole, Captain and Lieutenant, Wesker is bad at feelings, bad story with HEA.

Song Inspiration: Mascara - Deftones

Word Count: 10,639

Summary: Captain Albert Wesker of STARS is obsessed with his Lieutenant. He feels as if soon, he'll sink into her. What does she think of that?

1. LONG, SHADY EYES

“Lieutenant, have you seen how weird the Captain has been acting?” Your fellow teammate, Jill told you while you guys were hanging out at the front office of the police station, drinking your hot chocolate after a quick mission. It was early December, which means it was snowing heavily, and everyone needed a quick hot refreshment after saving the citizens of Racoon City.

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow, not knowing what Jill meant as you stared into her light blue eyes in confusion. 

“I don’t know… but something is off about him…” She said, twirling her cup of hot chocolate in her hand, her look stern.

Recently, Captain Albert Wesker has been more tired-looking than usual. It must’ve been either the endless hours of paperwork, the amount of calls to the police department for them to summon the members of STARS to handle some of the toughest crimes in the city, or the reports of countless women going missing after leaving a club late at night. Or, could it have been something else? 

It was dark outside, and the snow from the sky was falling down relentlessly. It was brutal out there, which is why barely anyone came in to work today. From STARS, it was only Captain Wesker, Jill, Chris, Rebecca, and you.

“Like what?” You asked the short-haired brunette, taking a sip of your sweet hot chocolate, savoring the delightful taste. 

“I think…” Jill paused, appearing that she was thinking hard about her answer into the realms of daze before she spoke again. “It has something to do with you. ” 

Your heart moved down a bit, but it didn’t drop to your stomach… yet. You were good at your job, you were flexible when it came to hand-to-hand combat, intelligent when it came to planning solutions in tight situations, strong when it came to holding your own, wise when it came to everything else, and overall so stunning. 

“ Me ?” You pointed at yourself, looking around to see if JIll got you confused with anybody else, ignoring the distant footsteps coming closer from the stairs. “I literally have been doing all of his commands without question and I’ve been doing them flawlessly. Why the hell would he have a problem with me?” You scoffed, a little scared but irritated. 

“Lieutenant, the Captain wants to see you in his office.” Chris spoke in a worried tone, coming down from the stairs. 

Oh? 

Now your heart really dropped to your stomach. That’s not good. 

“Did he state why?” You questioned Chris, taking another sip of your drink.

Captain Wesker is not the one to call people to his office for anything, really; only if they have been slacking on the job or actual imperative reasons. This must be serious. 

You might just be in for one hell a night. 

“No… He just said that you should come and that it’s urgent. ” 

In unison, you and Jill both flashed each other a look that included wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Urgent? 

“Oh…” You muttered, your heart dropping once more. 

“Should we wait for you?” Chris asked, standing next to Jill. You nervously sipped down the rest of your hot chocolate before you shook your head and threw the cup at the nearby bin, already walking up the stairs towards what could be your doom. 

“No… you guys should get going before the blizzard gets worse.” You implied, waving at them while still walking up the stairs. 

“Are you sure?”  Chris insisted. 

“Yes. Don’t worry. I doubt it's anything serious. The Captain is probably just in one of his moods. I’ll be fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, hoping this little meeting with the Captain isn’t anything too serious. 

…

“Come in.” You didn’t even have to knock before you heard Wesker’s voice from the other side of the door. You opened the door to see your Captain automatically staring at you. In the dimly lit room, you feel his presence before you see him. As you enter, he occupies the chair with a predatory ease, his frame sprawling, arms confidently resting on each side. The lamplight casts shadows on his angular features, accentuating the intensity in his cold-blue eyes fixed on you.

“Hello, Captain.” You greeted him quietly, your usual, calm persona already leaving you as soon as you felt his aura. It was chilling for some reason. Very strange. 

You closed the door behind you for more privacy as you stood by it, not wanting to move away from said door because of how nervous you were at this moment. 

That was your first mistake: closing the door. 

“Hello there, Lieutenant.” He greeted you back. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Wesker asked you with a grin, eyeing the chair opposite his desk. 

He seems so eager to talk to me, this is a little strange. You thought, needing some space from Wesker. 

“I don’t want to-” You attempted to protest, waving your hand but his voice caught you off-guard.

“It was a command, Lieutenant.” Wesker’s grunt voice and his intense, chilling blue-eye stare filled your body with chills and the small hairs on your arms and the back of your neck rose. Did you really do something wrong?

Your gentle persistence faltered as you slowly took the seat in front of your Captain, both pairs of eyes still focused on one another as his pair of cool blue eyes made you a little queasy. You had to look away or else you would’ve started to physically shake. Your gentle, feminine eyes started to wander around his office. It was quite dim– very dim, actually. The only things that were giving it light were the two lamps by either side of his desk. There was the S.T.A.R.S insignia embedded into the wall behind him, and the walls painted, stained with an ugly shade of blue, to you.

You started to speak up after the moment of silence. “Chris told me that it was urgent for me to talk to you…” You spoke, fingers from your left hand playing with the chrysanthemum tattoo on your right hand.  “Is there something wrong?” You asked, still not giving your captain eye contact, instead, giving your visual attention to the tattoo of your favorite flower on your hand.

“You’re really good at your job, Lieutenant.”  You look up at him, raising an eyebrow at his statement. It wasn’t that you were insecure or anything, matter of fact, you knew you were good at your job. You were the Lieutenant of S.T.A.R.S Alpha team for crying out loud. Why is he telling you such an obvious fact? 

“I know I am. Thank you.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“No need to get cocky, dearheart .” Wesker smirked, his voice low and grunt. 

Oh. That’s different. Dearheart? You wanted to mentally ignore that last word, but it stuck with you.

“Is that why you called me here today? To compliment me?” You ask him, tilting your head to the side, giving Wesker a tired look. If he really wanted to praise you for your work, Albert Wesker should be on his hands and knees before your feet, thanking you for your existence, cherishing you with a raise and all the gifts you’ve wanted in life. Instead, he’s just front sitting you, staring at you in the most creepy, gnarly, and uncomfortable way ever. 

“You're a very useful asset to the team. I was looking through your data and reports and I couldn’t help but be impressed by you.” He praised you. 

“So… what else? That’s it?” You ask him, rolling your eyes at his words. 

“What’s the rush, my dear ?” He questioned you, pale, wintry cold, blue eyes boring into your siren ones which were laced with mascara on the eyelashes. He leaned in over the desk, making you slowly move back.

“You’re doing nothing but complimenting me, I thought you called me to your office for something actually important-” You tried to get a point but he cut you off. 

“ You are important, Lieutenant. Which is why I wanted to see you, and only you .” 

At this point, you’re convinced this is an imposter, not your Captain. Your brain cannot wrap around this new behavior at all. All you know is that your guard needs to be up.

“Where are you going with this, Captain? Are you drunk?” You ask him, annoyance and small fear tinted across your voice. 

That was your second mistake; asking that question.  

“Tch. How bold of you to ask me that blunt question.” He scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Well excuse me for my rudeness but I am very tired and I want to go home, and you’re wasting my time.” You stood up from the seat, walking towards the door, you heard Wesker sigh but thought nothing much of it. You were irritated because you actually thought you did something wrong, but no, your Captain is in a peculiar mood today and that’s pretty much it. (It seems like.)

Before your hand could even touch the doorknob, you felt a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Your heart wasted no time dropping to the pits of your stomach. Slowly, you slightly turn your head around to see Wesker’s eyes staring right into your soul, again. This time, you feel a sense of fear arising on your body as he looks a little tense. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Lieutenant ?” His voice this time low, laced with dangerous venom from the bottom of his throat. This time, your body felt on edge, feeling weak everywhere and even light-headed.

“H-Home...” You stuttered, this time looking down at where his hand held you on your waist, where your other chrysanthemum tattoo was. You lay your right hand on his to see how hard he was gripping you and oh , his grip was secure and tight. 

“I don’t remember saying that I dismissed you. Why are you so eager to leave?” He whispered into your ear, that transatlantic accent sending shivers down your spine and his cold breath blew onto your neck.

You bit your lip, trying to hold your breath because of how scared you were. There is nothing worse than feeling the looming doom of something bad happening to you, and you don’t have much control over it. “...” You need to talk, you need to speak up. “Because… I want to go home.” You blurted out. It wasn’t a lie. 

A chuckle with malicious intent just left Wesker’s mouth as his grip on you tightened, even from behind, you flinched as he rubbed himself against your behind, letting out a deep groan. 

“You can’t go just yet, my dear. I haven't finished enjoying my time with you.” He then said, his other hand slithering under your long-sleeve uniform shirt and onto one of your breasts. 

“Let me go, Captain...” Your voice cracked and tears were on the verge of spilling onto your eyes, you were shaking, terrified with no one to help you but yourself. It was only Chris, Jill, Wesker and you in the office when you were downstairs but because you told your two colleagues to leave, you only have yourself to use to defend yourself.

“No…” Wesker whispered again, letting out a little laugh as he could hear the fear in your voice. He squeezed your breast, making you gasp. “I don’t think I will.” The blond male responded slyly, pushing himself roughly against your backside again. He was hard. 

“H-Huh?” You muttered. You were sweating, shaking, crying, trying to wiggle out of this tightly, evil grasp but it didn’t work. Wesker was too strong, too evil, too good.  

“Kiss me, Lieutenant.” He spoke, leaning into the side of your neck and giving it one long lick. You visibly gagged as you felt the cold saliva on your neck. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command. 

“Fuck no!” You screamed, finally growing the courage to turn around, elbow him and slap him in the face. He let out an angry groan as he held his face with his hand, he wasn’t bleeding, but he was bruised. 

That was your third mistake; slapping him.

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, Lieutenant .” He laughed at you from where he was standing, looking at you again. This time he stared at you, licking his lips as he eyed that voluptuous body of yours. You cursed to yourself, looking back at the door, and then back to Wesker.

This was your chance. You had to run out of here. And so you did, not turning back once as you ran full throttle to your office, grabbing your stuff and out of the station. 

Damn, it was cold outside. 

Luckily, you parked right at the parking lot since there weren’t many people in today due to the heavy snow. Panting with fear, you turned on your car, got inside, turned on the engine and quickly moved out of the station.

2. I'M ALL ABOUT HER SHADE TONIGHT

It was the next day and you were not sure what was real and what was false. All you know is that you did not want to go into work today. That was for sure. 

But, you can’t have it your way. Missing work without a prior notice is very dangerous at the Racoon City Police office. 

You were currently sitting in front of your vanity. Your hair was a mess, lips bruised from you biting them, your eyes were tinted with red , and you had dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night, trying to listen for signs of intruders… or your captain waiting to kidnap you. You did not like this, at all, whatsoever. 

Your tired eyes move toward the handgun that lays in front of you. It was a Colt 1851 Navy Revolver that was given to you from your father as a gift for making into S.T.A.R.S . From all your years of working at the station, you never would have thought that you might have to use it on your colleagues, let alone Captain Wesker for crying out loud. Who knew he was such a scum of a man?

Yesterday night was something you still couldn’t wrap your head around; Captain Albert Wesker assaulted you. 

Those words don’t even make any sense. Your captain, who is always wearing those dark sunglasses even when the scene is more dark than midnight with no lights in the street, who is always serious and time for absolutely nobody’s bullshit, who is always picking on Chris for even the slightest of mistakes, who is always serious about his job and the safety of the citizens… sexually assaulted you. It doesn’t matter how many times you rapidly blink, or how much water you drink, or how many hours you stay up, because that is exactly what happened. 

And there is no way to justify that. Your superior took advantage of you.

At the same time you could try telling Jill and Chris what happened but, what can they even do? That’ll just cause more chaos and you’ll still have to face Wesker in the end. 

Do you even have a way to confront the son of a bitch? Probably not. But, you’ll never let him get away with this scott-free, that’s for sure. 

“I need to do something about this…” a mutter came out of your mouth as you eye the wooden handled six shooter on your vanity.  “ before I don’t even belong to myself anymore. ” 

Or, do you just ignore him like he doesn’t exist? That can probably work but it is still you too who close the station down when the day ends… and the stow refuses to stop falling.

“No…” You look at the revolver again. I won’t do anything just yet, not until he strikes first. I’ll just ignore him for now. 

…

You slowly make your way to the STARS Station once again, the snow still falling down.

Can I really do this? Can I ignore him?

You find the snow is starting to fall harder, and the wind begins to pick up.

It seems like the weather does not want to help me either.

You see yourself approaching the doors of the STARS station, and then walking inside.

I have to do this.

You see Wesker standing just at the top of the staircase, even with his stupid shades on, you can still feel his predatory gaze targeting you. Your heart automatically drops to your stomach without failure. 

"Hey, Lieutenant." He waves with a smile on his face. 

You feel like a million thoughts are going through your mind, your mind racing.

I have to ignore him. Be normal. Don't show him anything is wrong.

You take off your Ushanka and shake your head so your hair isn’t flat, so your hair can look free and full of life. Luckily, Chris blocks Wesker out of your vision by standing right in front of you. "Snowy day, isn't it, Lieutenant?" Chris says to you.

You shake your head as you see Chris greet you, and say the same thing to him.

Be normal.

You try to just do your work, as if nothing ever happened.

As the morning progresses, you see Wesker a few times, but you ignore him. You're glad to see that he hasn't approached you or said a word to you yet.

Is he going to let it all slide? Forget about it?

Seeing him has made my heart drop to my stomach multiple times... and it looks like I'm gonna have to stay here overtime again. You think to yourself, and you look at your surroundings carefully, biting your lip. 

You see Wesker a few more times throughout the day, and you feel your heart sink a little with each and every time you see him.

That bastard. Is he going to do anything to me today? Am I just going to have to try to avoid him today as well?

As afternoon sets in, you see Wesker a few more times. Yet, he has yet to approach you or say anything.

Am I safe…? Did he just let this whole thing slide already? Why? Was he just having fun with me?

I don't think I'm safe but I just need to keep ignoring him... I'm only gonna be here until 8:30PM today.

You continue to see Wesker throughout your shift. He's clearly aware that you're also there and seeing him. Yet for some reason, he does not approach you. Nor does he say anything.

Why? Is he just playing with me? Is he just planning something more sinister and twisted when I leave?

You keep doing your work, trying to ignore his very visible presence in the same room as you.

Don't look at him, don't say anything to him, don't even smell him.

As the work day continues, you continue to ignore Wesker. You do all of this, thinking the whole time that...

Maybe he just plans to try and force himself onto me again sometime later after work?

That's it. That's what he's doing. He'll just try it again, only this time he will be better prepared to hide it from the other members of the STARS Alpha team.

Tssk... Shit. What should I do?

That's when you finally see Wesker approaching you now, his eyes still on you.

This is it...

He's going to do something right now.

You feel a rush of anxiety now rush through you, and your heart begins to pound in your chest. He's going to do it again.

I'm screwed... fuck.

Wesker is now standing in front of you, his eyes still locked onto you.

He's going to force himself onto me again. I just know it.

How the hell do I get out of this?!

You turn your head to look at him in fear. Your body is already shaking. You don’t even have your gun on you. You left it in your office. What should I do? No. What CAN I do?

Wesker sees your reaction, and a small smile begins to creep across his face.

He knew this would work. He's not even trying to hide it.

He reaches his hand out, and before you can even say or do anything. Wesker is holding you in a tight grip.

Oh no... oh no... oh no…

Wesker begins to slowly move you off from the desks you both were working at and away from the team.

No one is seeing what's happening... They just think we're working together.

They think nothing is happening right now...

Wesker begins to slowly move you towards one of the closed meeting rooms. He's going to force himself onto you right now and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

Someone… please… help me. 

No one is seeing this happening and Wesker continues to hold your small frame in his tight grip. As he pushes you towards the closed meeting room, he begins to force the door open.

He pushes the door open and forces you inside now, his grip still not loosening.

As you begin to hear the noise of the snow outside again, you see Wesker close the door and lock it.

Oh god... oh god... oh god...

Wesker looks at you now, his face getting closer to you.

Now what...? What's he going to do?

You’re still breathing heavily, shaking, feeling all so uneasy. 

“...” You don’t say anything, but you just stare at him. Wesker leans in now, his lips getting closer to your ear.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

“...” You still can’t talk. 

Wesker's voice now whispers into your ear.

"Did you miss me...Lieutenant?"

He's talking to me as if nothing even happened. He's acting as if what he did was no big deal, as if nothing even happened. My god... is this what it's going to be like?... Just acting like nothing happened?

“W-what?” You manage to stutter in silent anger and confusion. Wesker slowly leans even closer now, his hands now still gripping you.

"Did you miss me..." He whispers into your ear again.

My god... I don't know what to say... I don't know what to do…

"I missed hearing your little voice..." Wesker whispers again, his hand now slowly going up your back.

"Captain... s-stop this..." You attempt to try and speak up again, but of course he isn’t going to listen to you. 

Wesker's grip on you remains firm.

"I’m not going to stop." He taunted you. Wesker's hand now continues to slowly move up your back, his fingers moving to the nape of your neck.

“That’s a good girl…” He chuckled near your ear.

It is then that a loud smack is heard as you slap him across the face with your right hand. Wesker, caught off guard by the hit, lets go of you. Without looking back, you quickly run to the door and unlock it. 

“Agh! You bitch!” He groaned loudly. 

The door opens now, and you rush out. You see Wesker is looking at you with a look of both shock and rage.

I need to run to my office and hide there, locking my office is a must!

You ran, evidently, you sprinted, not caring how loud your footsteps were as you basically flew down the hallway. With your Captain being more fit, more stronger, and faster than you, of course he was right on your tail . You rush into your office, feeling a sense of relief once its door is shut and locked. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest now.

Oh no... oh no... oh no...

You see Wesker try the doorknob, but the door does not open. He pounds on it, and asks you to open it. You didn’t plan this through, so you’re trapped. Wesker continues to bang on the door.

"Open the goddamn door, Lieutenant."

His voice now sounds furious.

He's been caught off guard by a single hit, and so now he's going to be more cruel.

"..." You don't answer him... You’re frantically looking around your office to see if there is anything you can use to further defend yourself.

Wesker's banging on the door is loud and terrifying.

Do not let him in... you must not let him in. Just don't make any noise. You look around your office, not seeing anything you could use to defend yourself. The door to your office can only keep him out so long… He will eventually break this door open.

Wait... My revolver…

You see your revolver, which you normally keep hidden, sitting in your desk. Could that actually help you ? It's the only thing that could possibly help you. If you could surprise attack him with it, maybe that would work. Wesker is still banging on the door now, his voice still furious.

"Lieutenant! Open the goddamn door now!" Wesker bellowed, banging on with what seemed like most of his strength. You can see the door caving in and out with every bang. 

You grab the revolver out of the drawer, and you open the ammo... there is only one bullet that remains but it is not next to be shot. 

Maybe if I can catch him off guard...

Your hand is shaking, your mind racing...

One single bullet. Do I just try shooting him with this?

You keep listening at the door as Wesker continues banging on it.

There's no way he will let this slide.

Wesker then begins to say something to you.

"Lieutenant... I already told you, I’m not going to stop."

My god... he's still acting as if nothing happened. He's not going to let this go.

You slide down on the wall that the door is on. You’re shaking, you’re crying, you’re even sweating while the weather is freezing cold outside. It’s getting too much for you now. Why can’t you have just one single moment of peace? Why is it that you have to be the victim of power abuse and male obsession?

"..." You start sobbing so loud even Wesker can probably hear it. You hear Wesker laughing on the other side of the door. Your tears are flowing down your face now.

Of course he would enjoy this...

You are trapped in this office. You can't get out. The doors remain locked.

Wesker continues to bang on the door, his voice sounding as if it's taunting you now.

"Look at you, Lieutenant. Crying like a little girl." He continues laughing from the bottom of his throat, as if he just won a game or something. It jabs your heart, it makes you feel so restless and your heart just can’t stop dropping to your stomach. It’s so unfair , it’s so asinine , and it is just so fucking jarring . 

What is with him...?!

His words hurt because they just don't make sense. Am I not allowed to cry? I am not allowed to be upset and angry?

 You’re still sobbing loudly, your left hand trying to wipe all of your tears and your right hand is holding the revolver on the ground.

Wesker continues banging on the door, and you hear him say something again.

"You know, you sounded really pretty when I forced myself onto you before. But now that I know how scared you can be..." He sounds sadistic now. He sounds as if he takes pleasure in knowing you're afraid of him.

"You know... I might just try and do that again after I get in here." Wesker says that last part in a dark, malicious tone, then letting out a low chuckle. 

You scream. And you scream loudly, before going silent and taking a moment of silence to look at the revolver that you now held with both hands. 

Wait... what if I shoot...

You feel your mind racing and racing, your heart beating with fear.

What if I shoot... what if I shoot? Will he be gone?

Your hand is shaking badly now, the revolver firmly in both of your hands.

Is this the only way? There has to be another way!

Wesker is still banging and laughing.

"Hey... Lieutenant?"

“...” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Wesker is still banging, trying to get the door open. 

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant!? I know you’re still in there.” 

"So... you know what?... I'll make you a deal, Lieutenant."

His voice sounds both cruel and sadistic.

What kind of a deal... What kind of a deal will he make?

“...” You stay silent. What deal?

"How about..." Wesker's voice now takes on a more casual tone.

"If you open that door for me right now... I'll just pretend like nothing even happened. We'll just pretend like nothing ever happened between us, and forget your little slap."

That's ridiculous. No way. No way is he willing to just forget.

"Open that door, Lieutenant..." He asks with a cruel, yet casual tone.

What should I do? Is this just him lying to me?

"..." You refuse to listen to him, You will not answer him. You will shoot him.

"You know... your silence only makes it worse for you..." Wesker starts laughing again as he hears your silence. He's still banging on the door. "Lieutenant... you're not making this any easier for yourself." Your hand is still shaking, you keep the revolver firmly in your hands.

It's so heavy, your hand is shaking so much.

"I'll give you... let's say... five more seconds before I really do something bad to you ."

Five seconds? What an evil prick he is. Now, you need to hide. Wesker continues to bang on the door and laugh.

"Lieutenant. Four..... three...... and two."

You run over and try to hide as best as you can in your office, keeping the revolver firmly in both of your hands.

He won't be able to find me that easily... I'll still have time to surprise attack him with this revolver when he comes running in. Yeah.. that's it. That's my plan. I don’t want to kill him though. 

Wesker keeps banging on the door. 

"One..." He says, his voice still casual and as if nothing happened.

Is he actually going to break that door down now? Why is he making this so difficult for me... why isn't he just going to leave me?

You have the revolver in both of your hands now, feeling it become even heavier somehow than it was before. There's only one bullet... don't miss. You mustn't miss it.

What does he even want from me? 

Wesker laughs again, still banging on the door as a smile takes over his face.

"Oh, Lieutenant... you're making this so tough for yourself. All you had to do was not slap me and everything would have been fine." You feel frozen in place, the door banging and his words getting to you.

My god... I have one chance... and one chance alone. After he breaks that door in, there's nothing more I can do. But I wasn't gonna let him have his way with me... no way in hell.

Wesker's words keep banging against your psyche as his banging on the door continues.

"Fine. I’ll be nice. One minute... one minute is all I'm giving you now, dearhear t."

You can feel your hand sweating now as the revolver feels as though it's a hundred pounds.

I have one minute before he comes in here to force himself onto me again. One minute to get the aim of my revolver perfect… If I don’t aim this right then I’m fucked.

Wesker continues to laugh outside and bang on the door.

"Thirty seconds, Lieutenant."He sounds so smug.

 God... why isn't he just going away? Is he really not going to give up until he gets me again? I have to keep calm.

You listen closely now, hearing that even Wesker's breathing is getting louder now and more rapid.

"Open that door, Lieutenant. Open the goddamn door!" Wesker yells now at the top of his lungs.

He's now waiting for you to comply. He's not going to wait for long.

I’m not opening the door. I refuse.

Wesker stops yelling. You think for a few seconds, he might try and break the door down.

"Fine..." Wesker's voice sounds quiet now, and you feel yourself getting more hopeful.

He's going to give up.

"If you won't open that door for me... then I guess I'll just have to open it myself."

He can't be serious... not the actual door.

Your hope and relief fade within a few seconds.

Oh no... he's going to do it... he's going to break it down.

Wesker's voice gets louder again as you hear him walk right up to the door.

"Three... two... one."

You hear your heart immediately racing at a quick pace.

This is it. Now or never. There's no more time left.

"Fine, I'm coming in." Wesker laughs, and you hear him begin to use his shoulder to bang on the door a couple times. This is it. Your chance.

Wesker starts using his foot now to break the door down. He's putting his body weight into breaking that door down.

I have to do it.

Your hand is shaking uncontrollably now, the gun feeling like it is going to slip out of your hands.

Come on... any second now. You’re still shaking, but you're managing to keep your breath under control. Wesker is still kicking the door... your breath is getting shallow...

I can't miss... I can't miss.

Wesker continues to kick the door.

I have to remember my training... I have to keep my aim steady and fire at him...

Wesker kicks the door one last time, and it sounds like it is about to snap.

This is it.

Your hand is shaking like it's going crazy, your breath almost not coming now. You see the door begin to shake and get close to falling. You point the revolver at the door, trying to steady your hand as best as you can. Wesker's entire focus is on the door, trying to break that door down.

God, I can't miss. Do not miss.

And with one final, ruthless kick to your door, it was down. Wesker was now staring down at you, already moving towards your direction.

Bang. 

3. WELL, IT'S TOO BAD

Captain Wesker’s body fell backwards and fell to the ground of your office floor with a loud thump. Immediately, you screamed loud enough to the point where the whole city could hear you. That didn’t really make a difference, though. Same as yesterday, there was no one in the office, just Wesker and you. This time, only one of you is standing.

And the other may be dead.

“Oh my God… Oh my God! I shot him…” To say that you were panicking was an understatement. Your gun dropped to the ground, your hands in your head, eyes wide open with tears spilling out, your mouth was dry and your heart felt like it was trying to leave your body again .

“...”

Is he dead!? Shit! I can’t just leave him like this… But at the same time… You didn’t really know what to do,  you can call the ER but you would probably get arrested since it’s so obvious that you’re the one that shot him down, just look at the little spots of blood on your face and shirt. Or, you can just run away and go home like this never happened. 

Which one will benefit you the most in this predicament? 

I have to go…  

You didn’t have much time to think before one of your colleagues went to check what scream of yours was all about. The thing is, they already left, and there are no cameras in this area of the hall. How cliche. You decided to put on your coat and your Ushanka and run to your car, deciding to never look back. 

Self-preservation is the most important thing to worry about right now. You did what you had to do to defend yourself. Or else…

You kept looking behind you to see if Albert was already on his way to hunt you down, again. He wasn’t there, so you took the advantage and drove out of the station, again . This time it was life or death. 

You still cannot process what has just happened to you in the last 24 hours. 

…

It was the next day,  Friday. Exactly 24 hours since you left the station. You were in your bed all day. Not even a shower and consuming a single meal helped the fear that you were feeling. It was creepy like the devil hanging out on your shoulder. You felt so uneasy you wanted to scream, but you were too scared to do so. Too scared that someone might hear your… or know what you did yesterday night. Staying in your bed and under the covers was way better than leaving your apartment complex.  

Although it is your personal sanctuary, there was just something enticing about how comfortable your room was. 

Suddenly, your phone rings on your night stand, you reach out your arm to grab it and see the contact who was calling you. It was Jill. Hesitantly, you answer it and put the phone next to your ear. 

“Hello?”  You mumbled, eyes closed as you held the phone next to your ear. 

“Hey, _/_…”  Jill said, she sounded more quiet than usual, saying your first name with a little more caution.

She called me by actual name this time…

“Is everything okay at the office?” You asked, considering how you were out of the office because of yesterday night's events. At the same time, your stomach felt like it was twisted around your ribcage, you were so scared that she would mention him after yesterday night’s events.

“Yes. Everything is absolutely fine. I was just checking in because you weren’t today.” Jill spoke casually.

Oh thank God. 

“Sorry I wasn’t in today, I got sick from the blizzard last night, and plus, I am just really tired.” You groaned, your stomach untwisting from your ribcage in the process. 

“I see. When do you plan on coming back? I can write down your sick days if it makes it easier for you.” She said,  

“Probably next Wednesday. When the snow is calming down.” You responded.

“Okay. That seems fine…” she responded back. There was then a long pause. It was unsettling, it made your heart drop to your stomach a little bit. What is she thinking about?

“Is there something wrong, Jill?” You asked out of anxiety. 

“There’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to warn you to stay safe.” 

“…” This time, you were the one to give a long silence back. Now you were on edge. You were in your house, your sanctuary. What did she mean by “stay safe”?

“We got a new case today, regarding  a woman getting assaulted and attacked. I know you’re my Lieutenant and you know how to defend yourself, but I still want to make sure you’re okay in your current condition.” Jill then explained, sighing shortly after.

“Thank you, Jill. Make sure you watch your back as well. In case you get in some danger, don’t forget the training we did together and the skills I showed you.” You mumbled, not feeling relaxed at all.

“Pffft. I won’t. Anyways, take care of yourself, Lieutenant _/_.”  

“You too, Jill.” 

You ended the call, then got up to look outside your window. The street and pavement was still blanketed in thick white snow. You loved this weather because for some reason it made you feel so safe today, and relaxed, like there wasn’t danger running rampant in this strange world, as if you didn’t shoot your captain yesterday, as if you don’t know if he is currently lurking in the shadows.

Of course he’s lurking. Why didn’t Jill mention the bloody scene at your office, or the absence of Captain Wesker?  Jill goes into your office usually to collect some snacks and other documents that you keep around and she didn’t mention the blood stained floor.  Not only that, what gives it away was that a new case was given to S.T.A.R.S Alpha team and only the Captain can command the team to investigate the cases, and your team received a new case today regarding people going missing.

Oh, he’s definitely lurking, and after this shift is done? He’s all about your shade tonight.

It makes you laugh. For some odd reason, you weren’t that scared anymore. Sure, your Captain attempted to violate you in his office, which causes you to shoot him the next day is very terrifying, but what is more terrifying (from what you’re gathering)  is that he’s still alive, and he’s walking around as if nothing happened. 

What a dedicated stalker. That man is so funny but so persistent. 

“Wesker doesn’t know when to give up, doesn’t he?” You let out a chuckle, smiling to yourself about the realisation of how scary your current predicament really is. You weren’t smiling and laughing to yourself because you were happy, that wasn’t the case at all. It was because you were absolutely petrified. “I’ll let him have his way tonight but, after that, I need to end him quickly. ” You finished talking to yourself, still staring out at the window, awaiting the horrors that will eventually come to life tonight.

…

And, those horrors wasted no time showing up at your front doorstep. Your blood went cold as you saw your Captain open the front with a makeshift key. You were standing in the middle of the hallway with your gun in your right hand. Wesker was dressed up in his uniform, sans the black vest that he wears while he’s on duty. The blue-eyed monster then bellowed a loud laugh once he laid his cold, unforgiving, crystal blue eyes on your smaller frame, it made you shiver in fear.  

“You’re so cruel, my dear…” He sighed, automatically walked over to you, encasing you in his arms. You couldn’t back away because you were still perplexed as he was still walking around as if you didn’t shoot him right in the stomach. 

“What…” You mumbled quietly, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip. It was uncomfortable, intruding and claustrophobic. It wasn't comforting at all, it felt as if someone was trapping you in a jail cell. 

“How dare you…” Albert started, now slowly snaking  his arms to your backside. Your breath hitched. “How dare you shoot me in your own office and then run away? I had to clean up after your mess.” He questioned you with a pout. Evidently he was mocking you. 

“How are you not dead… I shot you clean in the stomach.” It’s either you said something wrong or it was the look on your face; your pupils were dilated, the colour drained from your face, and your breathing was heavier than before. You were panicking, the reality of the whole situation was dawning on you but you can’t be scared now. You need to face it head strong. 

“You shot me, but you didn’t kill me, my love.” Wesker explained. 

But it doesn’t make any sense… I shot him in the stomach, he should still be in pain, not only that but he shouldn’t even be walking… What the hell? Is he even human? The next time I have the chance, I need this man dead. Expeditiously. 

“With that being said,” You were suddenly lifted off of your feet, and your body was on Wesker’s shoulder, and the both of you were on the way out of the door and to his car. “I’m finally going to have my way with you, dearheart.” Wesker chuckled, using his right hand to slap your ass.

“Let hell you will!” You gasped, trying your best wriggling off of his arm, but to no avail. No matter how much you kicked your legs up and down or tried to use your arms to release yourself off his grip, his strong, muscular arm kept you right in place on his shoulder. You were just wasting your energy at this point. “I won’t let you ruin my life. I’ve worked too hard for you to do this to me!” You screamed.

“So persistent,” Wesker groaned, you heard the sound of a car door opening and in no time you were thrown in the backseat of Wesker’s car, he pulled you closer to the door and pulls out a rope, then he ties the rope around your body, making sure you cannot use any of your limbs. “You need to be patient my dear, the fun hasn’t begun just yet. You’re lucky I’m not taping that sexy mouth of yours, I love hearing how scared you are.” 

“...” You sighed out of exhaustion and you threw yourself down to the seat below you, having no further energy to fight back. 

“Now you’re not talking? Don’t do that, sweetheart. You’ll be screaming my name very soon. I’m afraid I’ll fuck you so hard that your whole entire neighborhood will hear you, which is why were going somewhere private.” The blond older male opened the driver’s door and sat down, turning on the car.

“In your wildest dreams , you sick bastard.” You chided. 

Now, while he drives you to wherever the hell is he taking you, this is the time to figure out how you’re actually going to kill this man. 

And this time, he won’t return. 

4. IT'S TOO BAD... IT'S TOO BAD...

After calculating every twist and turn the car has made, and counting the minutes of how far Wesker has taken you away from your home, you finally feel the car stop. You feel the car power off and hear Wesker leave his seat and go to the back to get you out. You yelped, his strong, lean arms wasted no time pulling your smaller body out of the backseat with no trouble through the ropes. 

‘We must be at his house then…’ 

He’s carrying you bridal style, knowing you can’t properly move with the ropes tied around your body. Wesker doesn’t have his signature, dark, goofy sunglasses on, so even in the somber night, those cold, sky blue eyes are still so visible you could’ve sworn that they were glowing. It was terrifying. And what is even more terrifying is that his eyes were focused on you, more specifically your own pair of eyes as if he was trying to read directly into your soul.

Although your stalker– captain was purely a wicked man from what you’ve seen yesterday night and tonight, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t handsome or fine to say the least. There was just something about how sharp his jaw was, or how nicely straight his nose was, or how the tips of his ivory-colored skin would turn cherry at the slightest of any rough action, or how perfect his teeth were, or how crowning his golden blond his slick back hair was.

Albert Wesker without a doubt was impeccable. How beautifully diabolical.

There was silence between the two of you. The type of silence that would lead to a later suggestive scene that would happen in a dark romance movie. But why would that happen? That wouldn’t even make sense, not after what Wesker did to you yesterday and the day before that. Your own captain assaulted you and now you feel some sort of sexual attraction to him? That doesn’t make sense.

He was still carrying you in his arms as he opened his front door and closed it behind him, locking it. You were tired and all of the lights were off so your vision was blurry. With every step that Wesker took to his bedroom you felt your stomach twist and turn in the most uncomfortable way ever. It was not a fun feeling. At the same time, it was a little exciting. Oh?

Being trapped in ropes while being taken to someone’s bedroom isn’t the best situation to be in.

Wesker gently places you onto his bed and immediately starts gently removing the rope off of your body. It is finally all undone when he starts eyeing with a more hungry look than before. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this…”  Again, his voice was low before he  let out a heavy sigh. Wesker’s eyes are squinted in seriousness and his pale, ivory cheeks are now tinted with a rose flush. Your captain starts to unbutton his shirt slowly while his eyes are still maintained on you. And for some odd reason, butterflies start to grow in your stomach.

“What the hell are you talking about…” You slowed down your words as your eyes wandered down to his crotch. It was obvious he was hard. You could see a huge bulge sticking out from his black pants. It was like it was itching to be released from the cloth it was being restricted by. Damn.

Wesker lets out a chuckle. “Don’t act stupid, my dear. I was planning to go easy on you until you shot me,” There was only the last button of his shirt left. You could see how defined his chest was, even though you could only see the middle of it. You always knew that your captain was lean and he worked out basically everyday but, you didn’t know you could see it even through just a sneak peak. “Which means I have to capture you now before you attempt to try and get rid of me again. I can’t let that happen when I didn’t even get the chance to kiss you…” He finished, the last button finally undone. Through the undone blue shirt, his gunshot wound that was done, courtesy of you, was still there. You didn’t get to see it fully before Wesker leaned into you, straddling your legs wide open, you could feel yourself getting wet just at the sight of him. 

‘Why am I getting so… aroused by this? This doesn’t make any sense. ’ Your inner thoughts are fuzzy and are getting mixed with the feeling of your body shivering from a peculiar cold. It was snowing outside but, you’re inside, so why are you suddenly cold? And shivering? That’s strange.  

You’re then snapped back to reality by your legs being snapped open. You winced at the sudden action and pain. 

“Stay still.” Wesker basically drooled over you, eyeing your erect nipples and innocently confused face by his actions.  His hands held down your plush thighs with such natural strength that you couldn’t even move under his grasp. “You look absolutely idiosyncratic.” He muttered. 

The innocent face that he was eyeing was gone as you sneered at him and his pervertness. “Fucking pervert.” You groaned, still mad that he’s made you horny by his forceful will. 

“Do you finally surrender?” Albert gloated, his blue eyes narrowed at you like a predator finally about to feast on its prey. You weren’t going to that to yourself and say that you were not intimidated. He was stronger than you, faster than you, even smarter than you. The chances of you winning this unfair game was even less than another  planet other than Earth successfully managing to survive the natural causes of the universe throwing everything at it. You weren’t going to win this, at this point you were only hoping that he wasn’t going to kill you. 

“Well I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You said with pure stoicness in your voice, blinking at him twice. At your words, you’re blue-eyed monster of a Captain chuckled lowly, flashing a blinding white smile at your hint at defeat. 

“You could always fight back. Or, shoot me… again.”

Oh… He is terrible.  He pulls the right side of his shirt to reveal his body. It was like he was a Greek god sculpted by an Italian artist. His abs were a sculpted masterpiece, chiseled and defined beneath the taut surface of his skin. The lines of his abdomen led the eye on a journey of admiration, from the prominent V-shaped cut of his lower abs to the symmetrical rows of his upper abs. Your eyes were gazed on them, stuck to them like a magnet. It was like your pupils were getting bigger just to praise how wonderfully built this man was.  

Not to mention the very noticeable and fresh gunshot wound, courtesy of you, that made it obvious that it existed and that you put that there. It made Albert’s image even worse, even more… hot. 

How were you going to fight back? Did you even want to fight him back at this point? You weren’t going to answer the question yourself, instead, Albert Wesker was going to answer it for you.

…

You were lost. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been, all you knew was that your Captain was on top of you, inside of you. His hands on your arms, sans of all your clothing. Repeatedly slamming his cock inside of you. 

And you just had your head laid on the plush pillow and took it. You don’t know why, but you just did, It felt… too familiar, too good, too amazing, it's like you had sex with this man before, but you just don’t know where. The way he fucked you had you screaming, moaning, whimpering in so much pleasure that you no longer shame about your current situation no more about fighting him back. It made no sense at all, but you no longer cared since you were under the curse of such ecstasy.  

It was disrespectful the way he used his tongue on you earlier. The way he used his long, wet, tongue to have you try and scream aloud. In the end, you did end up screaming his name. It was so unnatural and unfitting in the moment but then again, you did not care. 

It was strange. You still hadn’t reached your orgasm yet. He hadn’t either.

  It was like an infinite loop. 

…

You were back to your senses and you realized that you need to get out of here.  Now. 

You were scrambling to find your shorts and long sleeve shirt, to put them back on and to try and find help. The clock was ticking. 

‘Come on come on… where did he throw my clothes?! ’ You were frantically crawling on his bedroom floor absolutely naked as he slept peacefully, you looked crazy but nobody was watching. You were also surprised that he didn’t wake up at the sound of you trying to find the clothes he took so gently off your body. It felt like ten minutes but in ten seconds you felt the familiar clothing you were wearing earlier. ‘Found them!’

Trying to make the least noise possible, you put on the clothes while you were still on the cold, wooden floor. Then, you heard the bed creak. Shit.   

“Now where do you think you’re going?” You heard his voice. Your heart drops. There isn’t enough time to think of an escape plan at this point. Your only hope of getting out of here was to gun him down or break a window. “Did I say you could get away from me?” 

“...” While you were still on the ground, you stayed silent out of fear, your body feeling weak. You were even too scared to move. But you had to get up, or else it would’ve been game over for you.

‘Shit… I can’t walk properly.’ 

‘Where is this fucker’s gun!?’ You thought to yourself as you quickly rose to your feet, eyes scanning the room rapidly as your messy hair was in your face.

“Not saying anything? Don’t tell me you’re still scared…” Wesker sighed, getting up from the bed as he was completely naked. Trying to ignore him from getting up, you look behind you to see his samurai edge on his desk.

‘His gun! It’s on the desk…’ You run to grab it and then turn back around to face him, staring at him dead in the eye, ignoring his sexually distracting body. 

“Stay… away… from me… you have done enough damage.” You panted as your body shook violently, holding the gun up at Wesker. All he did was smirk at you in amusement, you wouldn’t even dare to bat your eyes down to see his appendage rising the sound of your fear. 

Wesker took another step towards you. “I don’t think I’ve done enough damage…” 

Bang. 

5. YOU'RE MARRIED... TO ME

As your eyes snapped wide open, your body was automatically in a cold sweat. The bedroom was freezing cold, which made sense because it was still snowing outside. Huh. 

‘What the fuck?’ You mentally thought to yourself, your eyes traveled around the room rapidly, still trying to get a sense of what you just went through. It was dark outside, the only thing that was light was the snow that was falling down violently, with the occasional gusts of wind accompanying it. Your head felt so light, you thought your head was going to fall back on the pillow below you. 

The surroundings are different and nothing about the bedroom is the same, neither from yours nor his. Could this be reality?

You look to your left to see someone sleeping next to you. It was so dark that you couldn’t make out who it was at first, and you weren’t going to turn on the lamp on your nightstand just so you could see who it was. It would be an eyesore for the man next to you.  

The man who was sleeping so peacefully next to you had blond hair, sharp cheekbones, and thin lips that if they were to touch yours, his mouth could drive you crazy with them. 

‘Oh.’ Your heart froze while your stomach twisted with both of your intestines. It then sunk into you on what was actually happening. 

In an instant, you slowly took the covers off of you and quietly but quickly walked to the bathroom that was inside your shared bedroom. You opened the door and closed it behind you, flicking the light on. You then proceed to carefully study yourself, touching each one of your features, ,from your eyes, your eyebrows, your nose, your lips, the shape of your face, to your neck, your chest, your torso– your tattoos– but you couldn’t find any tattoos, not even the one you saw on your hand. You had no tattoos. None, whatsoever.

That caused you to let out a sigh of relief. 

None of that was real. Nothing of all of that at all was real. 

‘So that was all a dream… Albert– my husband trying to sexually assault me and hunting me down was all a dream… All of that was never real… ’

It makes no sense on how realistically weird it was. Yes, you and your husband did work at the S.T.A.R.S in the RPD and he was the Captain while you were the Lieutenant but… that wasn’t even how you two fell in love.

It was instant love for Wesker. He hired you when he saw you practicing some karate moves at your old martial arts school while he was patrolling the streets of Racoon. He was impressed by your skill. And at the age of 24, you were hired to work at STARS in the Alpha team. Albert was 32 at the time. It’s been two years since then, and now, you two are married. Strange how fast time flies. 

But knowing Albert, even though the man is strict and serious ninety-nine percent of the time, he would never chase you down and defile you against your will. That is something inane and asinine. 

This was all making your mouth dry. You stared at yourself for a few more moments before adjusting your dark blue button-up pajama shirt, turning off the bathroom light, and leaving the room all together, still making sure Albert was sleeping. For such a hard working man, he was surprisingly a heavy sleeper, barely waking up to loud-ass thunderstorms. 

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself a nice glass of cold water. Gulping down that ice-cold water made you relax more, calming down your brain that was still a little perplexed at the weird-ass dream you just had. You didn’t even dream that often, and when you did, your dreams were never that weird. Could you even call that a dream? Was it scary enough to call it a nightmare? Actually–yes, it was. Having a dream of your husband stalking you down and violating you is terrifying. 

Downright frightening. 

Now it was time to try and sleep again, hoping, praying that you don’t have any weird nightmares like that again. 

You went back to your shared room, closing the door and locking it. You crawled back into bed, put the covers over you, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, you felt a hand wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. You flinched at the sudden movement. 

“Dearheart?” You heard your husband’s deep, throaty, and tired voice from behind you as you turned around to face him, his eyes were open and you could see the familiar arctic blue eyes that you loved so much.

“My love, you’re awake.” You pointed out and smiled at him. 

“Only because I didn’t feel you by my side.” Albert leaned in to kiss you on your lips, to which you kissed him back. 

‘There he goes again with his words.’

“Come on, I only left for five minutes, it wasn’t like I left the house or anything.” You told him, sighing at his clinginess. 

“You left me all alone while I was sleeping for five minutes, it felt uncomfortable.” 

“Well, I’m here now. Jeez, you’re such a child.” You quietly laughed at him. 

“Is everything okay, my dear?” Albert asked you. You paused for a split moment, trying to think of an answer. Here’s the thing, you could tell him the truth about the nightmare you had but that would cause chaos, and all you wanted to do was sleep, so you avoided that trouble.

“Yes… I just felt a little thirsty.” You lied, feeling a bit guilty about not telling your husband about that nightmare you had. It’s just that you did not want him to worry about you, and he gets all protective, even at the tiniest things. He raised an eyebrow at your answer and looked at the window behind you. 

“Thirsty? It’s freezing cold outside and you’re thirsty?” He’s skeptical. 

“Albert, you’re shirtless.” You retorted, using your hand to trace his stomach and chest. You felt how nice his body looked, it was exactly the same, but sans the gunshot wounds that you gave to him. He was all lean muscle, no signs of any painful, inflicted injuries on him anywhere. He felt nice and warm against your cold body. Very comforting.  

“And your hands are cold.” Albert shivered, against your touch, learning a small laugh from you. Slowly, you placed yourself on top of him, laying your head against his neck and your legs wrapped around his torso. This felt fine, absolutely fine. He wasn’t chasing you down the hallway, or forcing you to open your office door so he could do terrible things to you. He wrapped his arms around you, and embraced you. This was okay, this was absolutely okay. 

“Well, maybe you can warm me up.” You said against his skin, nuzzling into him.

“Of course I will, my dear wife.” He responded and you felt his smile on your skin. 

You laid on him for a few moments, enjoying your husbands warmth, feeling so safe.

“Hey, Albert?” 

“Yes, dearheart?” 

“Would you ever hurt me?” 

“Never.”

But, Albert Wesker wouldn’t actually do that to you. Would he?

[ninelieswithme]

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀʟʙᴇʀᴛ ᴡᴇsᴋᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇽 ᴛᴡ = ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ, ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, sᴍᴜᴛ, ɴᴏ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

★ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ - ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴʙ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʙᴇʀᴛ ᴡᴇᴋsᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏꜰ sᴛᴀʀs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀ ꜰᴀɴɢᴇᴅ sᴇʀᴄʀᴇᴛ

✰ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ -ʜᴀʏʏʏ sᴏʀʀʏ ɪᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ sᴍᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʙᴄ ɪ ᴄᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ sᴍᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ 2 ᴅᴀʏs ᴛᴏ ᴍʏsᴇʟꜰ 😭😭 ɪᴍ sᴀʏɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀs ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴋɴᴏᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏᴡs :((

✪ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ - 800-900 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

🜚 ᴋɪɴᴋ’s - ɴᴏ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ, - ʟɪɴᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ʟɪsᴛ - ʜᴇʀᴇ

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉

A song i thought about making this 😍😍

The clock struck midnight.

The glow of the moon gleaming in the barren S.T.A.R.S operations.

The door clicking open.

You stepped out of the small office, your eyes immediately drawn to the faint light emanating from the break room at the end of the hallway.

It was unusual for anyone to be there at this hour.

You the room approached, heart beating fast.

The sense something was amiss.

The soft glow of the light revealed a gruesome scene that sent shivers down your spine.

You captain??

Albert wesker

Stood over a crumpled figure on the floor, his once clean shirt now stained with dark, wet blotches.

Eyes widened as you realized the scene, Albert was feeding on the lifeless body, his mouth and chin glistening with the ruby.

Guts slayed blood seeping into the ground dirtying his shoes.

Blood dribbling alberts chiseled face.

The sight should have repulsed you, but something about the primal act ignited a strange desire within.

As if sensing your presence within the office, Albert lifted his head, his eyes glowing an unearthly shade of crimson.

The eyes like slits like a cat.

A wicked smile stretched across his face, revealing sharp fangs that gleamed in the dim light.

Tongue sliding against his bloodied teeth.

Your breath caught in your throat, feeling an overwhelming urge to surrender to him.

Pussy clenching around nothing…

Staring at the gleaming fangs.

Without a word, Albert strode towards you, boots tapping against the ground, his movements graceful yet predatory.

He backed you against the wall,

His body pressing against yours, hand ghosting your panties ripping them off.

You could could feel the hardness of his erection through his pants.

his body pressing against yours.

Albert’s hands slid up your thighs, lifting your skirt.

You groaned your face hazy with lust.

"You've been a naughty girl, staying late,"

The blood smearing your neck.

He whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"But I think I have just the punishment you deserve."

Your heart pounded as Albert’s fingers teased your wetness, stroking your sensitive folds glistening.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan.

Knowing that any sound would feed into his ever growing ego.

More like delusions…

His thumb circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You squirmed against him seeking more.

With a growl, Albert spun you around, your palms flat against the cool surface of the wall.

He yanked your skirt up, baring your round ass to him, a hard slap landing, the cool air on your exposed skin sent goosebumps rippling across your flesh.

Albert’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he positioned himself behind you.

Red eyes burning into the back of your head.

"Oh, yes, you're going to be a delicious treat," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

You gasped as you felt the head of Albert’s rigid cock probing at your entrance.

He didn't waste time on foreplay, or fucking.

Albert’s cock rippled between your folds.

His hips snapping forward, driving his shaft in and out of your slick.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, mouth falling open in a silent cry as he teased into you.

his balls slapping against your puffy folds with each thrust.

His hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading your breasts, pinching the nipples until they were hard peaks.

"You like being my little fuck toy, don't you?"

Albert growled into your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine.

You could only whimper in response, body betraying you as you arched back into him, urging him to fuck into your wet cunt.

The force of his thrusts pushed you against the wall, the impact jarring your sensitive nerves and sending sparks of pleasure through your veins.

Albert’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, leaving marks that would remind her of this night,

You felt her orgasm building. It coiled low in your belly, tightening with each thrust until you were on the edge of release.

Albert seemed to sense your impending climax, his movements becoming more erratic as he sought his own pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Albert cock shuddered his thick seed spirting between your cold hand hard around the back of your throat.

Your heart rates slowed and their breathing returned to normal,

Albert gently turned you, face to face with him, his crimson eyes burning into yours.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, smearing the remnants of your lipstick.

"You're going to be mine forever, Y/N,"

he whispered, his voice a raspy promise.

So his..

Before you could respond, Albert’s fangs sank into the soft skin of your neck, his mouth sealing the small wounds as he drank deeply.

You gasped as you felt his cold venom coursing through your veins, transforming you, awakening your senses to a new, dark world.

Albert pulled away, licking his lips, blood staining his teeth,

Eyes fluttered open, revealing a hunger that matched his own.

You was no longer just an overtime worker anymore, You were now a creature of the night, a vampire, ready to embrace the erotic and dangerous life that lay before you.

[blueysobssesions]

"Is that a Hickey?"

Characters: Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Albert Wesker, Jake Muller

You leaving a Hickey on his neck ;)

Leon Kennedy

- Leon adjusting his collar and said "Well, let's go-" he stayed silent when Ashley and Lewis/j were just gazing at him without saying anything. "Uhm, it's not the right time to adore me in this outfit..." He said "Looks like Amigo had his fun with his partner" Luis replied flirtatiously. Leon was speechless. He hoped that they won't notice how red his face is becoming. "I think you might need to look in the mirror" Ashley said giggling, pointing the mirror next to him. He hurried to the mirror to see what they were talking about and there, on his neck, he noticed a hickey. He can hear Luis and Ashley laughing maniacally behind him. He groaned "I told her not to leave a mark" touching the hickey on his neck. "It's a sign of ownership Amigo! She's putting her mark on you, saying that this on is mine" Luis teased. Leon stared at the hickey you created and he pondered... He grinned, "Well, I'm guessing I'm not covering it then?"

Chris Redfield

When he opened his eyes, he looked at the side and noticed that you were still asleep and... naked. When he looked down, he also saw himself naked. He sighed and sat up, giving you another glance before moving to kiss your forehead. He touched the ground with his feet with a sigh as he extended his arms... He dressed himself and walked downstairs. "Boo!" Claire startled Chris causing him to yelp "Jesus Claire! It's too early!" He complained "Haha, I'm Sorry!" He was patted on the shoulder as Claire chuckled "So, how's Y/n- Oh, I see you two had fun last night?"she winked at him. "W-what?" "Oh Don try to deny it! I can definitely see a hickey on your neck" He look behind her which there was a mirror, he noticed the hickey you left last night. "I'm expecting to be a niece!" A blush creeped out to his face.

Albert Wesker (Re5)

As Wesker walked through the hallways, he came across Excella. Excella has never been happy just to see him. He knows about her liking him. Despite knowing about her feelings towards him, Wesker remains distant and uninterested in Excella's affections. He sees her as nothing more than a tool to further his own agenda. You are the only person in his world in whom he is truly interested. Excella greeted him but was rejected. She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Wesker, please sit down so I can inject it" she suggested. Wesker walked towards her and sat down on the chair, rolling down his sleeve for the injection. Excella watched in silence as Wesker receive the injection. When Excella was about to put the syringe back, she notices something on his neck. Her eyes went wide when she saw a hickey on his neck "Is that a... Hickey?" she asked him. Wesker smirked and replied, "Your not the only one who's been busy, Excella," before he pulled up his sleeve. "Who gave you that hickey!?" Excella demanded as she noticed the love bite on his neck. Wesker chuckled and said, "It's none of your concern. Let's focus on the task at hand" He said standing up, he didn't actually planned to cover it up as if he wanted to know that he was yours and you were his. Excella raised an eyebrow but decided to let it go for now. She knew that Wesker was a skilled operative and they had a mission to complete. However, she couldn't help but wonder who had bitten him.

Jake Muller

"Ugh, why did you include him on the mission Captain?" Pierce groaned in annoyance. Jake only chuckled at his reaction "Relax, Pierce. We need him on this mission," Chris replied calmly, hoping to ease the tension between them. "Look, I can walk out of this room, you know? If that's what you want," Pierce glared at him, "Fine, but if anything goes wrong, it's on you" he spat. Jake smirked, and the room was quite hot, making Jake sweat slightly. Standing up from the chair, he removes his jacket. He then heard a chuckle from Chris "I didn't know you were in a relationship" Jake rolled his eyes and replied, "It's none of your business Chris" He spat before putting his jacket besides him. "Okay, Okay. I was just curious," Jake shook his head, and Chris then again spoke, "Well, there is something... On your neck? A hickey maybe" Jake looked at Chris with a surprised expression and asked "What? Are you serious?" He asked, reaching his hand out to feel his neck. He then realized that there was indeed a mark on his neck and blushed with embarrassment. Pierce laughed at his reaction, and Jake stared at him and said, "Shut up" he said and Pierce only rolled his eyes.

TAGLIST:

@momma-vi

@ssbptigers

@mnjxs

@dargoww

@re-njnx

@genshinimpactmemes

(want to be added? Just message/send an ask!)

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter in the Air

Grace Clinton x Albert!Reader

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, homophobia

A/n thank you @silentwolfsstuff for proofreading it for me.

You can still remember the first time you felt different, felt different from your family, from Korbin.

You’re ten when you and Korbin sit up all night as she talks about Shawn, a boy in your class that she’s currently crushing on, you listen like you always have and smile as her cheeks redden as she talks about holding his hand in the yard.

Your cheeks redden a short while later but for different reasons, the conversation moves to what boy you have a crush on.

It’s not a boy, it hasn’t been a boy since you kissed Dylan behind the tree in his backyard, You haven’t liked a boy since Aaliyah held your hand at the last school dance, since she kissed your cheek in the girls bathroom.

You’re sick you think,a short while after it happens, that’s why you have these funny feelings, maybe Aaliyah made you sick by holding your hand and kissing your cheek and that’s why your stomach feels funny, you feel this sinking feeling in your stomach as you think of it more, you’re sick now, you can’t hold anyone’s hand anymore you can’t kiss your mom good night because you’re sick, Aaliyah made you sick and you don’t want to give to anyone especially not your family, especially not Korbin and Teagan and Kylar and your Dad. So you stop, no one else can be sick like you, you’ll keep it to yourself and that way everyone will be safe.

But you can’t tell Korbin this, she doesn’t seem to have these types of feelings for girls, she’s not sick, no one seems to have these types of feeling for girls except your Dad and Kyler, but they're boys, they are supposed to feel that way, they aren’t sick like you, it what your mom says, it’s what the pastor says, it’s what the bible says.

You try to stop having these feelings as you get older you really do, you try to pray away your sickness, you pour holy water over your hands daily and you bless yourself extra going to mass but still nothing works.

You get a boyfriend when you turn fifteen a couple of months after Korbin starts dating Ethan you find Will.

He’s nice and you parents love him the same way his parents love you but you never feel what Korbin and Teagan say they feel with their boyfriends.

They aren’t sick like you.

You do however feel it with Kayla, you don’t mean to, you never meant to but she’s soft and nice to talk to not that Will isn’t but when you talk with her on the bus ride home from your match and you swear your hearts going to beat out of your chest.

Kayla tries to kiss you a couple of weeks later but you panic “what are you doing.” Kayla’s still has her hands on your face your cheeks slightly squished together “I just thought that…well you know since…” you pull fully back “I have a boyfriend Kay, Will he’s nice and I can’t do this to him.”

Kayla’s eyes widen “wait does…are you saying that if you weren’t with Will you would.” You panic at the pulling away stepping back trying to create distance. “I’m not gay.” You state harshly “I’m not sick.” You spit harsher again. Kayla tried to but she really couldn’t be mad you looked so heartbroken and so conflicted “ok my mistake.”

You avoid her on the bus from then on, and you find yourself sitting alone, she’s the only other sophomore on the varsity team, if you don’t talk to her, sit with her then you’ll be alone. You are alone. You’re the only one who’s sick.

You’ve been getting called to play for the US since you were thirteen, Korbin following a year later at fourteen. You move along the ranks of football better and your parents can’t help but show how happy they are for you, how happy your sisters and brother are for you, but still you feel lost. You still feel sick.

You travel to France in the summer of 2019 it’s a gift from your parents for getting baptised and giving your life to god, you don’t do it cause you want to, you do it in hopes it will rid you of this sickness you do it in hopes of being normal.

But it also makes your parents happy it makes Korbin happy as she bounces in the water beside you.

You sit anxiously as the US win the World Cup again. A funny feeling fills you as you watch Kelly O’Hara run to the crowd and kiss a girl, sure you knew most of the senior squad players were gay but to actually see one in real life kissing a girl, it felt weird.

But that feeling faded quickly as Korbin let out a small ew at the sight instead your body now felt heavy like you were being pulled down, “I mean I know she’s a girl kisser but can’t she do that in private.” Teagan nods “it’s sick honestly it’s like they are trying to force us into accepting it.”

You and Will are still together, even when Korbin’s gone and had three other boyfriends, but you still don’t have those feelings your friends and sisters talk about, maybe you just have to stick with him a little longer.

Maybe you just need to sleep with him and the feelings will start then, maybe the sickness will go away then.

It’s what you tell yourself leading up to the varsity teams dance, it’s what you tell yourself as you dance with him through the night, it’s what you tell yourself when your kissing in the corner of the hall and it’s what you tell yourself as your lying on the bed Will pressed up against you. But it never happens.

You break up with him just before summer that year. “I….I’m sorry Will I just, I don’t…they all have these feelings and I don’t have them and…you deserve someone who has them cause your a really great guy and I don’t…you would just be left waiting for me to get feelings I don’t think will ever come.”

He takes it relatively well, you’re just happy that you can still be friends, Korbin takes it worse than both of you combined.

“Oh my god I just heard, are you ok…stupid question sorry come on let’s go get ice cream.” You don’t know what else to do but you can’t indulge in the bad things she’s saying about him “He���s not a bad guy Korbin I broke up with him, he…I don’t have these feelings you and Teagan talk about for him and it’s not fair on him so I broke up with him.” I’m sick and he’s not and I don’t want to put that on him you think.

Korbin takes that as you fancy someone else and the heart to heart you thought you were having turns into gossip about who it could be that you like.

You're seventeen still when it’s time to make a decision about your football career. College is the best option but it’s not the only one for you like it is for Korbin.

The decision hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sunlit afternoon. Notre Dame, a prestigious institution, beckoned with its ivy-covered walls and storied tradition. It's where Korbin will be but it wasn't the dream. The dream was painted in Carolina blue, a vision of playing for UNC, a place where legends like Tobin Heath and Lucy Bronze had once graced the field.

The phone call from Manchester United shattered the familiar. A senior contract, not a youth academy invite. A chance to step onto the world stage, to play in the WSL not some college league, not the NCAA. It was a dream come true, but a dream that Korbin was still a few years off reaching.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, you were twins you did everything together, but for many years you had been charging ahead in soccer, you just had to hope she'd catch up eventually.

You don't expect it to make major news, your still only seventeen but your mom sends a clip of an ESPN headline stating your signing to Manchester United.

Y/n Albert is on her way to the WSL signing with Manchester United, Albert’s twin sister Korbin commits to Notre Dame.

You move a short while later, your parents coming with you to help you settle into your new apartment, you feel happy, content even until your mom states her worries for you living in the English city.

"I worry about you baby, you know there are so many...gays here and well i don't want any of them trying to force themselves on you, their sick individuals and your my baby."

You feel as though you might throw up then and there at the reminder of your sickness.

"Mom" you whine "No ones going to do anything, I....I'll be fine."

They leave a few days later, with the promise of geting on a flight and coming to rescue you if needed, you brush them off stepping back as your mom moves in for a hug and instead simply waving goodbye.

United finish fourth on the table, but you have a dream first season, so much so you get your first call up to the USWNT, you cry on the phone to Korbin as she cries back about how proud she is, your parents are proud to but your moms also busy wondering if you've met any nice english boys, again the moment is ruined and you feel sick again.

Y/n Albert receives her first call up for the USWNT after a dream first season with the Red Devils, making an appearance in every match this season and starting in nineteen games, assisting Untied star striker Alessia Russo with six of her eleven goals.

It's true you've assisted the majority of Alessia's goals but you haven't celebrated a single one, not on or off the pitch, in fact your team have copped on pretty quickly that you don't want to be hugged, to be touched.

You want nothing more, but the girls are to good to get sick from you, Alessia who you can't help but admit you've got a slight crush for is to good to get this awful sickness from you, its safer if you don't hug...don't touch your teammates.

Y/n Albert receives first cap for the USWNT against Costa Rica in the CONCAF semi-finals which saw the USWNT advancing to the finals after a 3-0 score.

You return back to Manchester, a winner with two senior national team caps under your belt, after facing Canda in the final, your english teamates have won the euros and while they are all showing off their medal standing around hugging your teamates, you stand far back in the corner of your dressing room.

Your medal gets passed around too, you've scrubbed it clean making sure none of your germs are on it so the girls don't get sick, its been in your bag ever since and you simply wave at Less to grab it from there when she asks about it.

It's a big deal, a real medal but you can't cause a fuss over it because then people want to congratulate you, touch you, so you wave it all off.

You wave it off. until a girl around the same age as you with a funny accent hands it back "That's proper cool mate." You look between her and the medal, three maybe four times.

She steps forward her arms open, open for a hug but they swiftly close as you step back and her face falls slightly.

She sticks her hand out "Sorry" and now your eyes flash between her outstretched hand, your medal and her face. "Less says you're not a hugger I forgot, but its really great to meet you mate, I'm Grace."

You don't move, your mind is blank, in fact all you can think about is how she says her Gs a weird way, and as her face falls slightly at your lack of response to her open hand your brain kicks in.

"Y/n." you say shakily, but still don't move. Grace drops her hand smiling and all you can think about is how your stomach erupts into butterflies.

But it only lasts a moment, only a moment until you feel your stomach drop, your blood to go cold and the heavy feeling to fall back on to you.

Your sickness is back, and you can't give it to Grace, not now not ever.

Grace and her funny little way of saying Gs.

[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.

[birdie123au]

The Green Light

pairing: leon s. kennedy x reader, leon s. kennedy x ada wong

Great Gatsby AU (unrequited love, not actually requited love, angst w/ happy ending)

Amid the glamour and tension of university life, you finds yourself falling deeply for Leon Kennedy, a friend whose heart seems forever entangled with the alluring but unreachable Ada Wong. As Leon's obsession leads him down a path of self-destruction, you struggle to hide your feelings, hoping he'll finally notice the love and loyalty you've always had for him. In the wake of a life-changing accident, Leon is forced to confront who or what truly matters.

When you were younger, your father had sat you down on his lap and told you that wealth is an unimaginably powerful thing. When you’re offered chances in life, you best believe you should take them . What to a child was the concept of “wealth”? You used to imagine it was a giant room in the back of some new-money mansion filled with enormous piles of gold stacking higher than the eye could see. You came from humble origins. Your father, a midwestern farmer, had taken pride in what he referred to as “honest work”. Some of your fondest memories of your youth had been sitting on the wooden porch swing in your backyard watching your father drive his tractor through the fields. Your mother, the daughter of a banker from Georgia, would come through the creaky screen door and remind you to come inside before you overheated. Her southern draw on the word “burn” would stick in your mind many years after you left that old farm of yours.

Telling your parents you wanted to move to Racoon City to pursue your degree came as a shock. You had spent your entire life in your small, rural town. Your mother opposed the idea of moving to such a large city, stating that there was no way you would survive such a large change. Your father simply shook his head before placing his hand on your mother’s thighs. With that she conceded. 

The drive into Rockefeller College, one of the most prestigious universities in the midwest, felt like driving into an alternate universe. Sitting in the back of your father’s pick up truck, your mother verbally recounted her disgust with seeing the number of Teslas or Range Rovers that were lined up by the curb. You were immediately reminded of your status: a country bumpkin with a full ride scholarship. The move into your dorm was no better. Your roommate, a girl named Mikayla, was the daughter of a wealthy family from the northeast. Her half of the room had already been set up by the time you set your foot in the door. Her minimalist, sad-beige aesthetic would certainly look dull compared to what your mother referred to as the ‘90s bedroom’ look you were going for. Mikayla was a sweet girl, but the moment she suggested you should all grab lunch at Machiavelli’s Steak and Winery you were immediately made aware of a key difference between the two of you.

Saying goodbye to your parents was the hardest part of all. Your mother sobbed, holding you tightly as though she would never see you again. Your father simply patted you on the head before grabbing hold of your mother’s hand, leading the two of them out of your new home. After coming to a consensus on a more affordable place to eat lunch, you and Mikayla stepped into the hallway of your dorm, waving hello to your new neighbors. As you entered the elevator, you noticed you had the company of two young men, most likely new students from the floor above. 

“Hey,” said the taller of the two men, “My name is Chris.”

“Hi!” Mikayla said happily, “I’m Mikayla and this is Y/N, we're roommates.”

Chris nodded his head politely. “I’m Piers, we’re roommates too,” he said with a smile as he pointed at Chris.

“You both headed to lunch?” you asked. 

“Yeah, we were thinking about checking out the dining hall, but there's a good deli down the street that looks pretty good,” said Chris.

“No way!” Mikayla shouted, “McEvan’s? We’re headed there too.”

Chris laughed, “Awesome.”

———————————————————————————————————————

The conversation amongst the four of you at McEvan’s had been polite small talk. Lots of What’s your major? Where are you from? and What classes are you taking this semester?

By the time your meal was served, a patty melt with no tomato, you had moved onto slightly less general topics such as extracurriculars and hobbies. It was then that you and Chris discovered a shared love of horror games, psychological ones in particular. 

“Did you bring a console here?” Chris asked, taking a bite of his chicken wing. 

You laughed. “Fuck no, Mikayla and I have such a small room. We’re next to the RA. We can barely fit two beds and a desk in there.”

“That sucks,” he said, “You should totally swing by our place at some point. I brought my PS5.”

“I brought my Wii,” Piers chimed in, “We could play Mario Kart together or something.”

You noticed how Mikayla’s eyes lit up as soon as Piers seemed to be on board. “We’ll definitely be there,” she said, “If there's nothing else going on tonight we could definitely stop by.”

“What else would be going on?” Piers asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Functions, bro,” Chris nudged his roommate, “And you’re right, there's not going to be any going on during orientation. Once the upperclassmen get here though, that's another story.”

“Are the parties here good then?” you asked.

“You have no idea,” Chris responded with a smile, “A family friend of mine goes here– she says that's the reason she loves it so much.”

Later that night you and Mikayla did exactly as you– well she said. The four of you crowded around Chris’s surprisingly large TV, dressed in pajamas and eating greasy popcorn, watching intently as he played the Silent Hill Two remake. Each time there would be a scary scene, Mikayla would cling to your arm with a scream. You had spent a total of four hours in the boys’ room that night. 

Your group of friends established a routine during orientation week. You would wake up, go to the dining hall for breakfast, go to whatever orientation lecture was required for the morning, eat lunch under the giant fruit tree, attend the afternoon lectures, eat dinner as a group, and then go to Chris and Piers’s room to play video or watch shows until midnight. You were lucky, you thought, to have found such a good group of friends so early on into school. 

When you told your mom on the phone about your friends, she was very proud of you, saying how lucky you were to have a great friendship with your roommate. The summer leading up to school, she would often tell you about her nightmare roommate freshman year, and how she nearly transferred from the University of Alabama. However, as a traditional southern lady, she was slightly alarmed by the fact that two of your closest friends were men. You assured her you had zero interest in either of them, but Mikayla? You weren’t so sure. 

“Well I’m not worried,” your mother said, sounding worried, “Just make sure you pick a good one, okay?”

“Yes ma,” you rolled your eyes.

“I love you, hunny,” she said.

“I love you too.”

———————————————————————————————————————

Just as Chris said, by the time orientation week ended and the upperclassmen arrived, campus life went from dull and boring to bustling and bright. However, instead of going to a function, you found yourself in the backseat of an uber driving thirty minutes off campus across the river and into the suburbs of Raccoon City. 

Chris had talked all week about taking your friend group to meet his family friend, Ada Wong. She was a junior meaning she was allowed to live off campus with her fiance, Albert Wesker. You spent a majority of the car ride trying to recall where you had heard the name “Wesker” before. By the time you arrived at the lavish, Greco-Roman style mansion, you remembered. Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the largest pharmaceutical company in America, was owned by the prosperous, old-money Wesker family. You were shocked Chris had such a strong connection, but when you remembered how his last name was Redfield, as in Redfield Properties, you understood. 

“This place is huge!” Mikayla said as you pulled into the circular driveway with a large water fountain in the middle, “I can’t believe you can live in this area as a college student.”

She then turned to the three of you, “Hey, if there's any housing available, we should rent one as a group for our junior and senior years!”

Chris and Piers laughed, nodding their heads. You laughed too, but for different reasons.

When you arrived at the front door, there was no one to greet you. Instead, Chris simply opened the door, motioning you all to follow. The interior was grand and luxurious, straight out of a bourgeoisie home owners magazine your mom used to have lying around the house when you were little. You tried to hide your astonishment but your mouth was agape. Mikayla laughed, closing your jaw with her hand. 

“Come on!” she whispered to you, “We’re having roast goose, apparently. I want to sit next to Piers!”

The two of you ran through the house while holding hands before finally catching up to Chris and Piers. If you thought the inside of the house was luxurious, you were sorely unprepared to see the backyard. Flower, trees, and marble statues created one of the most beautiful gardens you had ever seen. Chris led you all to the pool, larger than your bedroom, that had floating lilies and flowers. Next to the pool was a dining area underneath a series of marble columns. Behind it all was what looked to be a greenhouse with someone standing inside.

“Chris?” you heard a distinctly feminine voice call out, “Is that you?”

“Yup, it's us,” he responded, “Here, follow me guys.”

The greenhouse was filled with beautiful, tall plants. The floors were a light birch tile with a floral design scattered throughout. Each of the walls was made entirely from a slightly tinted green glass. When you finally got to the center of the room, you saw her.

Ada Wong was absolutely gorgeous. Although she was sat, you could tell she was a tall, slender beauty. Her black hair was cut and styled into a perfect face-framing bob. Her porcelain skin was flawless and her makeup was light and airy. The justs of wind from the open windows caused her red dress to swirl and flutter through the air. It reminded you of that one Marilyn Monroe photo. When you made eye contact, she smiled.

“Chris,” she stood up, the sound of her red-bottom heels hitting the tile floor echoed in the room, “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he said, pulling her into a hug, “Mrs. Wesker.”

She laughed, you couldn’t miss how her voice was slightly strained. “And you must be Chris’s little friend group. Let me guess… Piers, Mikayla, and Y/N.”

Ada pointed to each of you as she spoke, correctly guessing the order of your names. 

“Yup, that's me,” Piers joked, “It's nice to finally meet you.”

Ada hugged Piers before turning to you and Mikayla.

“Aren’t the two of you beautiful,” she said, “It always warms my heart to see such smart young women.”

Mikayla didn’t miss a beat and went in for a hug. Eventually Ada turned to you, pulling you into a soft embrace. She smelled like expensive perfume. She smelled expensive.  

“Now, you four, come with me,” Ada said, “The duck should be served soon. It would be a crime to eat it cold.”

When the sun set and the meal was served, the backyard was lit with beautiful, warm lighting. Albert Wesker had finally made his appearance. Your first impression of him was that he was… odd. Smart, rich, and successful, no doubt, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way. Firstly, he wore sunglasses at night. Secondly, he was dressed as if he was about to go on a spy mission. And finally, he was harsh with his words.

“So,” said Albert, “What do you kids plan on majoring in? I know you mentioned pre-med, Chris, how about the rest of you?”

“Public Health,” said Piers, giving a polite smile to Albert. He then turned to Mikayla, who got her wish and was sitting right next to Piers.

“I’m thinking Art History,” she said, “Maybe Literature, I’m not too sure.”

All eyes then turned to you. “Economics,” you said.

Albert smirked, “How ambitious.”

The conversation continued but you couldn’t help but feel Albert Wesker’s condescension in his reply. It felt the same as when you told your counselor you would be applying for Rockefeller University. Amused but insulting. Other than that, you thought that dinner had been going relatively well. 

That is, until Albert’s phone suddenly began to ring. Miranda Psych Class was the name of the contact that appeared on the phone. Chris’s smile dropped and Ada’s face went from jovial to disappointed.

“Excuse me while I take this,” Albert said.

“You should really stay,” Ada pleaded, standing up to grasp her fiance’s arm, “It would be rude to leave our company. If it's about class you can tell her to text you about it later.”

Albert yanked his shoulder, effectively escaping Ada’s grasp. “I said excuse me while I take this fucking call, Ada.”

Your eyebrows shot up at his words. Mikayla dropped her spoon in shock. Piers choked on his bite of food. Chris then stood up from his seat, stepping a mere couple of inches away from Albert.

Just like that Albert declined the call and sat down. Not without intentionally scoffing at Ada and Chris. 

“I don’t have time for your antics, Redfield,” he said, “Now sit down and enjoy your dessert.”

Chris rolled his eyes, his face a mix of anger and disgust, but he nevertheless obliged. Ada said nothing. She sat down, taking a large sip of her red wine.

The six of you attempted to enjoy the rest of your meal in peace. Still, it was hard to ignore the invisible seventh attendee, as Albert’s phone would not stop ringing for the rest of dinner.

———————————————————————————————————————

“Should I wear the white top or the pink one?” Mikayla asked you, holding both options out for you to see.

“I like the pink one,” you said, “The crop is cuter.”

“Piers?” Mikayla turned around to where the boys were sitting on her bed, “What do you think?”

Piers looked up from his phone, slightly flustered as he looked at Mikayla who was in nothing but her underwear and bra. “Umm, I agree with Y/N, the pink is good.”

“Awesome!” Mikayla cheered, “I’m assuming you think the same, Chris?”

Chris threw her a thumbs up without ever looking up from his phone. The four of you were getting ready for your first college party. The dinner party the night before had been awkward. The four of you hadn’t spoken much about it. You, Chris, and Piers had already been dressed for the past twenty minutes, and had spent the rest of the time attempting to help Mikayla choose her outfit. Piers had used his fake to buy you all some liquor and pomegranate juice. You were sipping on it now.

“I still can’t believe you bought Smirnoff,” said Chris, “I mean really man? Do you want us to be hung over tomorrow?”

“How was I supposed to know it was shitty vodka!” Piers threw his arms up in defense.

Mikayla laughed. “Just buy Tito's next time or something.”

“So where exactly are we going again?” you asked, taking another sip from your drink.

“We’re going to Rutherford Hall,” he replied, “Kennedy’s hosting.”

“This better be as good as you’re saying it's gonna be,” Piers said, making a disgusted face after he drank another sip of his drink, “Or I’m gonna be disappointed.”

“Trust me,” Chris said, “Kennedy hosts the best parties. Like actual parties too, there's gonna be dancers and a whole bar and shit. He’s got a pool table too!”

“Bro, we better play tonight,” Piers said.

“Obviously,” said Chris, “Once we get there, we’re going shot for shot.”

“Count me in!” Mikayla said.

“So is this Kennedy guy famous or something?” you asked.

“Pretty much,” Chris replied, “He owns basically all of Rutherford Hall. Dude’s loaded. He’s one of Ada’s friends from high school I think.”

“Guys!” Mikayla cried, “The Uber’s almost here, we should start heading down stairs.”

With that the guys got off the bed, Piers helped you to your feet.

“Cool,” you said, “I wanna meet him. Think you can point him out to me?”

Chris laughed as he opened your dorm door. “Hell no. I’ve never even met the dude. He’s like a mystery.”

“I like mysteries,” you said softly.

———————————————————————————————————————

Rutherford Hall was one of the off campus housing options still in the city. From your understanding, it was owned by a small group of frat boys who had enough money to afford such expensive housing. The dorm looked more like a classic New England style home. White painted wood, large shutters, and large white columns, it was beautiful and ginormous. The lawn was filled with college kids dressed in short skirts, crop tops, shorts, and polo shirts. 

Stepping inside to the home transported you into a stereotypical movie about the 1920s. Dancers dressed in tiny little outfits were scattered across the main foyer. In the kitchen was a makeshift bar being manned by an actual bar tender. Judging by the amount of good quality alcohol that was being offered for free, this Kennedy guy had money to throw away. The four of you each grabbed a shot of quality vodka, downing it on three. 

“Yo, Redfield!” cried a voice from behind your group, “The rest of the teams out back.”

Chris was on the rugby team, no surprise there, but you haven't seen him spend much time with them outside of practice. Chris gave you all an apologetic look.

“I’ll be back, guys,” he said, “I’m just gonna go say hi.”

“No worries, man,” said Piers, “Do you guys wanna go explore?”

“Um, obviously!” Mikayla said, clearly starting to get drunk, “First let's take another shot.”

“Say less,” you laughed.

As the shots continued to pour, the three of you grew more and more wasted. You swayed to the beat, feeling warm and drowsy. In your intoxicated state, you had hardly noticed Chris hadn’t come back in over forty five minutes. Mikayla and Piers became more touchy as time went on. They were your friends and you loved them, but God did they have to do that in front of you?

“I’m-uh gonna go pee…” you said, “Don’t miss me too much!”

“I love you!” Mikayla shouted.

“Love you too,” you smiled, “You too Piers. You’re m-my homeboy for real.”

Piers laughed, his hands still tangled in Mikayla’s hair. You stumbled across the first floor, searching intensely for a bathroom. When you finally found a single stall one, it had a line longer than a Disney ride. You rolled your eyes, dramatically pivoting the other direction. 

“Um– excuse me,” you shouted over the music, tugging at the end of a frat boy’s Alpha Sigma Tau tank top, “Where is the bathroom? With no long line?”

The frat boy pointed up the stairs. “Third floor on the left!”

“Thank you!” you said, swaying back and forth as you climbed your way up the stairs.

By the time you made it back down to where you had left Piers and Mikayla, they were gone.

“Well fucking damn it,” you cursed aloud.

In your dismay of being abandoned at your first frat party, you overhear some people talking about how the fireworks were about to start.

“Fireworks?” you drunkenly whispered to yourself, “What kind of frat party is this?”

You walked outside onto the quartz terrace. It was filled with people shouting, socializing, and staring up at the sky. You tried your best to push to the front of the terrace that overlooked the rest of the giant backyard. Leaning the front of your body against the pole, you sighed.

“You doing alright there, old sport?” you heard a low, smooth voice say.

“Huh?” you turned, finding yourself face-to-face with a young man, “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Well that wasn’t too convincing,” he laughed, “Your face looks familiar, you don’t happen to have any connection to the Midwestern Farming Association, do you?”

Your eyes widened as a mix of surprise and recognition hit. “Yes, I do. My father’s been a member for years.”

“I thought so,” he replied with a gentle smile, “My father was too, before he passed. I used to go to the yearly showcases as a kid. We must have run into each other, huh?”

“I guess so,” you said, smiling back “That’s so crazy– you must have an amazing memory.”

As you took him in, you realized just how striking he was: his sandy blond hair, the way his blue eyes held yours with an intensity that felt deliberate. He was watching you with a kind of careful attentiveness, his smile perfectly polite yet warm enough to make your cheeks feel a little too warm.

“I’m Leon, by the way. Leon Kennedy,” he said suddenly, catching you off guard.

“What!” you exclaimed, “I’m sorry– wow. You’re the ‘Kennedy’ everyones been talking about all night.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought you had known. Guess I’m not a very good host after all.”

“Well, Leon ,” you said, placing special emphasis onto his name, “This is some place you’ve got. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, umm?” he responded, unsure of how to address you, “How did you find out about it? Assuming you didn’t just overhear someone else talk about it.”

“Y/N,” you said with a laugh, “And no, I actually heard about it from one of my friends. His name is Chris Redfield, apparently he has some upperclassman friend who goes here. She might be here tonight, who knows.”

“Chris Redfield?” Leon asked, shock evident in his voice, “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about Ada Wong, would you?”

“Yes, oh my gosh!” you said, “Wow, this is so crazy! I can’t believe you know her too.”

“Did you see her tonight?” he continued.

“No, not tonight,” you said, “But we had dinner with her and Albert Wesker yesterday.”

Any ounce of excitement in his face fell. “I see.”

“Y/N! Y/N!” you heard Mikayla’s unmistakable voice holler at you, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere! We’re headed home– Chris was playing beer pong and broke the table! We gotta go!”

“I’m sorry,” you turned to Leon, who began to laugh again, “I should get going.”

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing your arm as you turned to leave, “Y/N, can I have your phone number?”

“Huh? Oh, sure.”

And so you scribbled your phone number in your sloppy, drunken state onto his arm with a sharpie from his back pocket.

———————————————————————————————————————

The next weekend, you were back at Rutherford Hall. Another party hosted by the infamous Kennedy.

The atmosphere of the party was buzzing: people laughing, music blasting, cheers from the crowds gathered around the various pool tables and countertops. You were already a few drinks deep, feeling an increased amount of courage and confidence. Leon was sitting at the bar. You had no doubt that half of the people sitting around him had no clue they were that close to the host of such a lavish college party.

“Wow, Mr. Kennedy sitting by himself at the bar,” you said, tapping him on the shoulder, “I didn’t take you for the quiet type.” 

Leon chuckled, motioning you to sit beside him. His eyes had a gleam of mischief. “I can do loud,” he said, “I just don’t want to make too much of a scene.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re afraid to embarrass yourself,” you said with amusement, “I’ll have a vodka cran please.”

Leon raised his hand, signaling the bartender to hold off on making the drink. “I’ve never been embarrassed a day in my life.”

“Oh really?” you leaned in, lowering your voice, “Then why are you standing here all by yourself trying to look mysterious?”

“I’m not mysterious,” he said, “I’m just trying to enjoy the view at my own house, so watch it, freshman.”

“I was talking about the party, not me,” you placed your hands on your hips and gave them an obviously exaggerated shake. Leon laughed, though it was hard to tell if it was out of genuine amusement or pity in your heavily drunken state.

“Fair enough,” he said. 

“I don’t get it,” you said with a sudden shift in tone, “For a person who's always throwing large parties, you seem like you don’t like large parties. Like at all.”

“Would you want to go somewhere more private to continue this conversation?” he asked, “It’s getting a little loud in here.”

“Okay, but no more bullshit, Leon,” you said, “I want to know your truth.”

“Deal.”

The two of you walked through the crowd, a fair amount of distance between you. As you weasled your way through the tight spaces you prayed that you wouldn’t run into your group of friends. This conversation was about to get a whole lot more interesting and you wanted to hear every last bit of it. Leon ended up bringing you through the entire backyard to the dock. It overlooked the river that surrounded Racoon City. 

“So, what’s your deal?” you said.

“My what?” he responded.

“Your deal,” you affirmed.

“I know, I’m just kidding,” he laughed at his own joke, “I think it's because of people like you.”

You raised your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Why I host these things,” he said, “You’re the type of person that makes things more interesting without even trying.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re quite the charmer, Kennedy?” you said, “Can I ask you something a bit more personal?”

He nodded his head. “Why do you always ask so much about Ada Wong?”

“I figured you’d ask that sooner or later,” he said, “Ada– well, she’s complicated.”

“Hey!” you playfully punched his arm, “I said no bullshit. That answer is total bullshit.”

He chuckled, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of resignation. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Ada and I go way back—she’s... she was important to me.” He looked away, his expression unreadable. “Do you see that light? The green one across the bay?”

You squinted your eyes. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

“That’s her house right there,” he said, “She’s over there. So close but… always out of reach.”

“So that’s what all of this is for, huh?” you asked softly. “These parties, the constant crowd, the noise. It’s all just... a way to reach her?”

He gave a slight nod, then looked back at you, his gaze steady. “I thought maybe she’d show up one day, or maybe that someone in her orbit would walk in and give me some kind of sign.” His tone softened, and he chuckled, though it sounded almost bitter. “But maybe all of this– maybe I'm just trying to find someone who actually sees me, who’s here because they want to be.”

“Damn that’s… sadder than I thought it would be,” you said, staring at the green light, “But it makes sense, I think. It’s caring and Ada deserves someone like that.”

The two of you remained silent, gazing at the mansion across the bay. Ada was Leon’s green light. So where did that leave you?

———————————————————————————————————————

The library was quiet. You, Chris, Piers, and Mikayla were sitting at a table for four, each working on your own independent work. You were attempting to finish writing a paper for your Introduction to Early European History, but the constant sound of your phone buzzing was distracting you.

*Buzz

“Is he still texting you?” Mikayla asked, clearly annoyed.

“Yeah,” you said, trying not to smile as you picked up your phone again .

“Block him,” she said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because all he does is ask about Ada,” she said, before moving closer to you and lowering her voice, “And you clearly like him. It’s not healthy.”

“I do not,” you said, “Besides, I’m trying to play matchmaker. Wesker is a dick and Ada deserves better.”

“You heard what Chris said,” she responded, “It’s not your choice to make. Besides, Ada is your friend too. Don’t be sneaky.”

“I’m not!” you whisper-shouted.

“Can you two shut up,” Chris said sarcastically, “We’re trying to study here.”

The four of you feel silent again, returning to your work.

* Buzz

“Oh my God!” Mikayla threw her hands up in defeat.

Chris sighed, slamming his books shut. “I’m seriously going to beat him up the next time he throws.”

Piers laughed awkwardly, rapidly looking between Chris and Mikayla. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, “Start studying before I beat you up.”

You picked up your phone, sending a final text to Leon.

———————————————————————————————————————

Leon S. Kennedy

…so I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want to see her again. Properly, this time.

Wow. Just like that?

I don’t think “just like that” sums it up. It’s been years, after all. A whole lot of time to wonder if she even remembers me.

Trust me, she does. A meeting would be… well, poetic, you know?

Exactly. Something simple but meaningful. Think she’d go for it?

Hard to say, but you’re a host, aren’t you? You do things in style. Maybe just start with a familiar setting, like a quiet café or even somewhere… scenic?

Like the gazebo out back? Or maybe somewhere with just the right flowers… that sounds almost too much like a book, doesn’t it?

It’s perfect, though. A little mystery, a little drama—it’s exactly how you’d want to see her again.

I knew you’d get it. So… would you help me set it up? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d owe you big time.

You don’t owe me anything. But yeah, I’ll help. If this is what you want, I’m in.

You’re a real friend, you know that? 

Glad to be of service. When are we doing this?

Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at 7. Just… be ready.

Consider it done. And Leon?

Yeah?

I'm excited to see you again. For what it’s worth, I think she’ll be thrilled to see you again.

Thanks. Here’s to hoping.

———————————————————————————————————————

“You done?” Chris asked.

“Yes, Chris,” you sighed.

He cracked his knuckles. “Good, let's go to dinner soon.”

After the typical chicken dinner at the dining hall, the four of you split up to go back to your rooms to shower and finish some last minute homework. You and Mikayla were wearing your matching Christmas pajamas, even though it was September, that she had bought for the two of you last weekend. The elevator ride up to Chris and Piers' room was familiar. It took less than three minutes for the four of you to be reunited again. When you entered the room, Chris was on the phone with Ada. 

The four of you, minus Mikayla who has swim practice on Sundays, were supposed to meet for dinner this weekend. You prayed it wouldn’t be awkward after what you and Leon planned for tomorrow. Once Chris got off the phone, he flashed you a thumbs up. No words had to be exchanged, you and Mikayla had already taken your place on the carpet near the TV. Piers sat next to Mikayla. He seemed to get closer and closer to her with each passing day. When Chris finally joined the group on the floor, he turned on the console.

“Until Dawn?” he asked.

“Noooo that's too scary,” Mikayla said, cuddling up between you and Piers. 

You smiled, pushing her off of you playfully. “Yes, Mikayla, we need to finish the game sooner or later.”

* Buzz

“Or, we can play more Mario Kart,” she continued.

* Buzz

“Sorry, the controllers are still dead,” Piers frowned.

* Buzz

“You two still haven’t charged them?” I asked.

* Buzz

“Why don’t you go charge them, Y/N?” Chris suggested sarcastically.

* Buzz

“Turn that off!” Chris and Mikayla shouted over each other.

You winced. “Sorry.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturbed, but not before noticing the twenty-seven missed texts from Leon. What the fuck?

Opening the text conversation, you were greeted with a wall full of pictures of flowers and Leon desperately asking which ones you liked most. This was going to be a long night …

———————————————————————————————————————

“Why do you look so nervous?” Chris asked, throwing a pillow at your face. You and Mikayla had created a small pillow fort in the one available corner of your tiny room. Piers and your roommate were out doing God knows what, so that left you and Chris together one on one. This wasn’t entirely unusual– you had gotten used to Chris’s presence outside of a group setting.

“Leon’s almost here,” you said, “It’s freaking me out.”

“What are the two of you doing?” he questioned, eyebrows raised.

You sat up in your bed, unable to hide your emotions. “Chris, can I tell you something? You can’t tell anyone.”

Chris put his phone down, suddenly looking equally as serious. “Yes. Is everything okay?”

“I’msettingupLeonandAdaonadatebutI’mtotallyfreakingoutbecauseI’mscaredofWeskerandAda’sreactions,” you spilled, unable to catch your breathe. 

“Woah woah, slow down, Y/N,” Chris got up from his pillow fort, sitting beside you on your bed, “Wait, why are you setting up Leon and Ada.”

“Well, in all honesty, I don’t like Albert. The way he was acting… rubbed me the wrong way. Ada is a friend and I want what's best for her, and– um.”

“And?” 

“I’ve been talking with Leon a lot,” you admitted, “He’s dorky and funny and he's a great friend. He cares about Ada a lot and I want him to be happy.”

Chris sighed, placing his face into the palms of his hands. “When I was in high school, my sister asked me to drop off one of her CDs to the Wong’s house. I was too young to drive, I was fourteen. I was always scared of Mr. and Mrs. Wong, the Wong Credit Enterprise is a huge cooperation, you know? Turns out, I didn’t even need to go inside. Ada was in the driveway, sitting in her white mustang. There was a blonde guy in the front seat who I had never seen before. The two of them were clearly talking about something important. I left pretty quickly, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

After a moment he continued. “I found out later from Claire that the guy in the front seat, Leon, was her boyfriend. They met at the country club: Ada was the member and Leon was the busboy. After his dad died he apparently moved back east. I don’t think the two of them wanted to break up, but they never got back together. When Ada got engaged to Albert the Wesker and Wong families threw a huge party. Long story short, Ada got a letter from Leon, got super drunk and flipped out– she said she didn’t want to marry Albert afterall. Her dad pulled her aside and the last thing I heard was that Ada kept the engagement but tore up the letter.”

You took several moments to process the absolute information dump Chris had placed on you. Leon had told you he and Ada had a past, but you never knew how serious it was.

“Why are you telling me this?” you said softly.

“Because I don’t think it's a good idea,” he said, “Ada is marrying Albert. Leon needs to move on.”

* Beep

You didn’t even need to read the text message to know: Leon was here. You and Chris stared at each other silently, words did not need to be exchanged. As you stood up to leave, Chris gave you a sad smile before sitting back down in the pillow fort. Walking to Leon’s car felt like walking to your own doom. Leon drove a Range Rover– the newest model. Rolling down his window, you were immediately met with an expensive, mahogany smell.

“Hi,” he smiled warmly.

“Hi,” you returned the gesture.

Stepping into the car, you put your seatbelt on. Leon was silent, his grip on the steering while tightening with each passing moment. His knuckles were turning white. The moon was barely visible due to the dark, thick clouds in the sky.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Leon’s voice cracked slightly. You turned towards him, seeing the stress in his furrowed brow. His eyes were focused on the road ahead, but you're not so sure he was paying attention.

You smiled softly, reaching out to place your hand over his own. “You’re going to be fine, Leon. Just be yourself.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can. I’ve waited years for this. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this… exposed.”

This time it was your turn to laugh. “Exposed? You’re the Leon Kennedy– you’re somebody worth being with. She doesn’t get to change that.”

“You’re not nervous?” he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“A little. Maybe more than a little. But I’m here for you above all else. If you need me, I’m here.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she—” He stopped himself, the name stuck in his throat. Ada. You could feel the jealousy stirring in your stomach, trying your best to mask it.

You put a smile on your face, gripping his hand even tighter. “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it.”

“We’re in this together, right?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” you responded, “I’m like the best wingman ever.”

His laugh was genuine, hearty. “What would I do without you?”

———————————————————————————————————————

When you arrive at Leon’s gazebo, it was already filled to the brim with flowers. Each of the flowers in the photos he had sent you that you had hearted were in the room. When you recommended them, you didn’t expect him to buy the entire stock. You were amused, though a little scared. Who on earth has this much money to blow on flowers for just one afternoon?

“So, Ada’s coming here at 8:30 for tea, right?” Leon asked, anxiously rubbing his hands together.

“Yup,” you responded, preoccupied by the flowers, “Jesus, Leon, you look like you robbed a flower garden.”

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” he said, “Because if it’s going to rain we– we should just call this whole thing off.”

You snapped out of your flower drive daze. Stepping towards Leon, you placed your hands firmly on his shoulders. “Leon, a little bit of rain won’t be a problem. You should really sit down, you look like you’re going to pass out. I’ll… umm work on finishing up the food for the tea.”

Leon let out a breath of relief, his blue eyes looking entirely exhausted. “Thank you, Y/N. I really mean it.”

———————————————————————————————————————

When the clock struck 8:45 Leon looked as though he was about to throw himself into the river and never return.

“She’s not coming,” he said, pacing around the room, “Of course she’s not! Why would she be–”

You heard the unmistakable beep of Ada Wong’s black Porsche Panamera. She was here– late probably because of the rain and traffic. Leon’s face went blank. In a moment, he had left out the back entrance of the gazebo.

“Leon? Leon! Where are you–” you sighed, “God damn it.”

You met Ada outside the gazebo, ushering her inside under your cheap umbrella you had bought from the dollar store.

“Just give me one second,” you smiled, concealing your panic at Leon’s sudden disappearing act. And– nope! He was nowhere to be found. You were internally kicking yourself. You rested your head onto the front of the refrigerator, groaning internally.

Ada, who you imagined was as confused as ever, had likely taken a seat amidst all the flowers suffocating the room. “Oh goodness,” you overhead, “Maybe she really is in love with me.”

You laughed, feeling an ounce of relief knowing that at the very least you would have a nice evening tea with a dear friend. So you grabbed the tray of finger sandwiches, scones, and small desserts and set it on the table next to the kettle.

“Here, allow me,” Ada offered, pouring you both a warm cup of tea, “Now tell me, Y/N. Why did you ask me for tea all by yourself?”

You mentally prepared a bullshit response to give her, but just then the back entrance of the gazebo slammed upon. Leon walked through, completely drenched. When Ada and Leon made eye contact, you could practically see the fireworks. It was like a scene out of a movie. You felt sick to your stomach.

“I’m… gonna give the two of you some space,” you said before taking your cheap umbrella and leaving out the front door.

———————————————————————————————————————

When you returned to the gazebo after the rain had stopped– maybe an hour after you left– Ada and Leon were holding hands. Ada had clearly been crying, evident by her red, puffy face and crumpled tissue in her other hand. Leon was absolutely beaming.

When Ada’s chauffeur came to pick her up, you saw the two of them share a brief, yet passionate kiss. As you watched from inside the gazebo, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made some sort of mistake. No– Leon and Ada were both happy. That’s all that mattered to you.

Over the next couple of months, Leon and Ada’s secret meetings became a full blown affair. You watched Leon drift further away, his attention drawn to the woman who always seemed to remain just out of reach, wrapped in mystery and promises. Each party and late-night conversation left you feeling more hollow, though you tried to hide it beneath smiles and reassurances to your friends. Chris, Piers, and Mikayla could see through you. No matter how many times they would try to convince you to take a step back, you just couldn’t do it. Besides, Leon had already done that part for you.

One Tuesday afternoon while walking back from your Intro to Philosophy class, you finally ran into him. As the two of you moved to speak, his excitement was palpable. “Ada’s leaving Wesker. She told me she’s finally ready to move on.”

Your heart ached. This time not out of pure jealousy, but also concern. “Leon… are you sure?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well… I talked with Chris a while ago and he told me it's a bit more complicated than that,” you tried to explain gently, “Leon, I don’t think Ada’s going to leave Wesker. It’s not just about her.”

His smile faltered. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?” he asked, a flicker of irritation in his tone. “Ada isn’t like everyone else. She means this.”

You didn’t have it in your heart to argue with him. “Okay, okay, I trust you.”

“You’re a good friend, Y/N,” he said softly, “Thank you for always looking out for me. Um, this weekend I’m having lunch at the Wesker house. You and Chris should join, make it less awkward.”

You nodded your head, giving him a hug goodbye without saying another word.

———————————————————————————————————————

The uber ride with Chris was certainly awkward to say the least. He wasn’t happy when you told him who the guests at this lunch would be, but Chris was a good friend, so he went with you anyways. It was supposed to be a formal event. Chris was wearing a Tom Ford suit that was likely worth more than your entire wardrobe and furniture combined. You, on the other hand, were wearing a simple sundress that your mom had sowed you. It was light and airy and always managed to make you feel like a princess. You wore it almost every time your mother dragged you to church senior year. Still, you couldn’t help but notice how underdressed you looked sitting next to your best friend. You looked like a poor country girl.

Lunch was served in the backyard in the garden. Ada was already sitting out there when you arrived. She wore a red, silk Versace dress with a slit down the side. She looked as expensive as ever. When Leon arrived, he too was wearing an expensive suit. His hair was slicked back. He looked so handsome, so rich . He and Ada looked perfect together.

“Welcome to my garden,” Ada greeted you all, “Care for some wine?”

“Sure,” said Chris, his arms folded. He had a hard time hiding when he was upset.

“I’ll take a glass,” you said, fiddling with the silver ring your father had forged for you for your eighteenth birthday.

Ada got up from her seat, pouring both you and Chris a glass of expensive red wine. When she walked closer to hand it to you, you caught a whiff of her floral perfume. When Ada turned back to the table, she poured a third drink: whiskey. Without Leon having to speak a word she handed it to him.

“Some whiskey for you,” she smiled, “Just how you like it.”

You downed your cup of wine quickly, pouring yourself another. This was going to be a long lunch. By the time Wesker had arrived for the meal, you were already three glasses deep. Chris was concerned, to say the least. Leon told you to slow down, but it was clear where he was focussing the majority of his attention. When you all took a seat, you were in between Leon and Chris. Ada sat next to her fiance on the opposite side of the table.

You could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of Leon. He was gripping the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. This was a telltale sign he was freaking out even if he otherwise appeared calm and composed. You silently placed a hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. Leon turned to you with a soft smile. Tea sandwiches were served. Leon and Ada were not breaking eye contact. Way to be subtle guys , you thought, rolling your eyes.

Wesker finally broke the silence, looking directly at Leon. “You look tense, Kennedy,” he said smoothly, his voice like ice. “Something on your mind?”

Leon cleared his throat, letting go of your hand. “I wanted to talk to you about Ada, Wesker.”

Chris tensed in his chair, seemingly knowing what was to come. You turned to Chris, unable to stand the sudden tension that filled the garden.

Wesker laughed, leaning back in his chair with a mocking smile. “Oh really? Tell me, Leon, what is it about my fiance that concerns you?”

Leon’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away. “Ada and I have a connection—something that goes beyond whatever arrangement you two have.”

“Oh Leon,” Wesker said, “You are so young, naive. Do you really think a little connection is enough to change her mind? Ada and I understand each other in a way you never will. In a way someone from your background never will.”

Leon let out a frustrated sigh, his face growing angrier by the minute. “She's leaving you, Wesker.”

Ada’s expression faltered, her eyes darting between Leon and Wesker’s. When she opened her mouth to speak, Wesker shot her a glare.

“Is that so,” Wesker said, “Well then, Ada. Care to share your plans?”

Ada remained silent, her gaze shifting to the table. He leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. “Ada… tell him. Tell him you want out.”

Leon got no answer. Instead, Wesker smirked. “Well then, I suppose Ada will be staying here with me afterall. Why don’t you take your leave, country boy?”

Without another word, he stormed off toward the driveway, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. Ada jumped up, hesitating before following him out. You shared a look with Chris, heart pounding. Wesker watched them go, his smile returning as he took a sip from his wine, unaffected.

“We should probably go after them,” Chris whispered to you, “Think you can walk?”

“Oh please, I’m not a blackout drunk,” you said, attempting to crack a joke. Rather than sounding humorous, you sounded terrified.

You and Chris raced off from the gardens, running through the massive Wesker residence like there was no tomorrow. When you made it to the front door, you could see Leon and Ada having an argument. Leon got in his car, clearly ready to drive away. Ada opened the driver's door and effectively pulled Leon out of the car. A few moments later, it was a sobbing Ada who got into the driver's seat while a devastated, tipsy Leon sat in the passengers. When the car drove away, you could tell something was wrong. 

“She shouldn’t be driving that car,” you said, “Did you see how fast she was going?”

“We should go after them,” said Chris, “I’m going to call her, tell her to pull over.”

You started to panic. “I’ll call Leon. Wait, we don’t have a car! How are we gonna go after them?”

“Allow me,” a familiar, cold voice came from behind the two of you. Turning around you saw Wesker with the keys of a BMW in his hand. Without any other choice, you and Chris followed him to where his car was parked. Leon and Ada weren’t picking up their phones.

The drive was eerily silent. The only noise was the sound of phones ringing, desperately trying to reach Ada or Leon. It wasn’t too difficult to follow their path. Leon had made you give him your location at a party once, worried you would be too drunk to get home safe. In turn, he gave you his location and so the three of you used that to track them down.

As Wesker’s BMW sped through the winding roads, you stared out the window, hands clenched together so tightly they hurt. Chris sat beside you, his phone still ringing as he tried Ada again and again, his expression darkening with each unanswered call. Wesker remained silent, seemingly unbothered despite the wild chase for his possibly endangered fiance.

Finally, your phone buzzed. It wasn’t a text message or call from Leon, but rather an update on his location. The pin hadn’t moved for several minutes. Your heart skipped a beat.

“They stopped,” you said, your voice hardly above a whisper. Chris glanced at your screen, his eyes widening. Wesker gave you a nod before speeding up the car.

Another few sharp turns later and you arrived on a long, windy road next to a gas station. There was a sleek, dark car that had crashed up against the guardrail. You screamed. Before Wesker had even had the time to fully park the car, you had gotten out, Chris following closely behind you. 

“Oh my god,” you cried. Chris cursed under his breath. He had already pulled out his phone, dialing 911. 

Through the shattered windshield, you could see Leon. He was slumped over, unconscious with blood dripping down his face. Ada lay in the driver’s seat, her face pressed up against the airbag. Her eyes were barely opened, you could tell she was in a lot of pain.

“Leon!” you screamed, desperately grabbing the passenger door handle. You tried to pull it open but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the window. “Leon, please, wake up!”

“Stay back,” Wesker ordered, his voice as calm as ever. He pulled you away from the car to where Chris was standing, still on the phone with the 911 operator. Wesker took out his phone and called Ada’s father, colding relaying the details of his only daughter’s crash.

“Leon…” you said, your head starting to spin. You grabbed onto Chris’s shoulder for support, feeling a sudden weight in your legs. When your vision began to blur, you fell to the floor, completely unaware of what was happening.

“Hey–hey!” Chris shouted, his voice sounding distant, “Stay with me, Y/N!” It was already too late. His words faded, replaced by a rushing sound in your ears, and the last thing you saw was the flash of blue and red lights approaching before everything went dark.

———————————————————————————————————————

You sat in the lobby of the hospital, your hands clutched around a small, hot vanilla latte. Chris had stayed beside you the entire time, buying you some food and something sugary to drink after your fainting spell. Hours passed before you were allowed into Leon’s room. Chris went to Ada’s alongside Wesker, her family, and some other school friends. 

When you entered the infamous, popular Mr. Kennedy’s hospital room, you were the only one in there. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a middle aged man sitting in the corner of the room. He had dark skin and wore overalls. He reminded you a lot of how your father dressed when working on the farm. His expression was stern and his arms were folded tightly across his chest. Leon laid in his bed, bruised, pale, and asleep.

You made contact with the mysterious man in the room. He stood up from his seat, walking towards you. “Hello, miss,” he said, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, um,” you stammered, “Leon is a really good friend of mine. I’m just coming here to check up on him…”

“You wouldn’t happen to be Y/N, would you?” he asked with a small smile. You nodded your head in confirmation, “My son has told me a lot about you. My name is Marvin Branagh.”

“Your…son?” you asked, confused. Leon had told you on multiple occasions that both of his parents were dead. Especially his father.

“Adopted son, yes,” Marvin smiled, “Raised him ever since he was a little boy.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, eyes darting back and forth between Leon and Marvin, “Leon told me you were, well, um–”

“Dead?” Marvin asked, still smiling, “He just loves to tell that to his new little rich friends. I haven’t a clue why. I’m very much alive and well.”

“Oh, that’s um…confusing?” you said, your eyebrows raised. Why on earth would Leon lie about that?

“I’m going to head to the cafeteria,” said Marvin, “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, a snack?”

You sighed, taking a seat next to Leon. “Maybe a fruit cup, if they have any. Thank you, Mr. Branagh.”

“Marvin is fine, and don’t mention it,” he responded, “I’m just glad my boy has at least one good friend around.”

As Marvin left the room, you fixed your gaze on Leon. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. He looked peaceful.

A few moments later, Leon stirred, his eyes fluttering as he woke from his nap. He squinted, disoriented, before his gaze settled on you. His expression softened, and he managed a small, weary smile.

“Hey…” he said.

“Hey yourself,” you leaned in, giving him the softest hug you could manage, “I thought you were dead. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Ok,” he said with a small laugh, placing an arm onto your back, “Um, is she…”

“Ada is fine,” you said, pulling away from him yet still staying close, “Chris, Wesker, and her parents are with her now. Marvin stepped out of the room to go get a snack.”

“Marvin?” Leon asked, turning his face to the side with shame.

“Yeah,” you said gently, brushing a piece of his hair back behind his ears, “Leon, why did you lie to me about him?”

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Because he’s a reminder of where I come from. The small-town boy with nothing special about him, raised by a guy in overalls on a farm. I thought…” He swallowed. “I thought that part of me was something I needed to leave behind.”

“For her?” you asked, “I don’t get it. Why would you pretend to be someone you’re not?”

He looked at you, an intensity in his blue eyes that caught you off guard. “I thought if I became someone different, maybe someone like Ada would see me as enough. But the harder I chased after that the further away it seemed to get.”

You bit your lip, tears beginning to prick the corner of your eyes. “Maybe that's why we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

Shocked, Leon attempted to sit up. He winced in pain, slowly lowering himself back down after his outburst. “I don't…why would you say that?”

You summoned every ounce of courage in your body to tell him the truth. “It’s because I like you Leon. Not as a friend. And watching you blindly chase after this girl who doesn’t see you for who you are– who won’t appreciate who you really are, it just hurts. I can’t do it anymore.”

Leon was silent. He studied your face, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place on his face. Then, he slowly reached over, placing his hand over your own.

“Thank you,” he said, “Thank you for being here for me. For helping me realize that I don’t need to be ashamed of who I am. You’re a good person, Y/N.”

You squeezed his hand, a bittersweet feeling falling over you. “The past is who you are, Leon. You don’t have to let it define you, but running away from it is just as dangerous.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on your joined hands. “Maybe it’s time I finally learn to live with that.”

———————————————————————————————————————

“It’s beautiful,” Leon said, holding one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, “I forgot how much I missed drives like this.”

For winter break your sophomore year, your parents invited you and Leon to spend a few nights at their farm. It took a lot of begging, particularly towards your mother, for your parents to allow you to bring your boyfriend. You were nervous for them to finally meet, sure, but you knew Leon was the type of guy that you could bring home to your parents and have them love. You weren’t worried.

“Yeah, it reminds me of when I was little and my dad used to take me on night drives in his truck,” you said, “It seems like farm, but I kinda love it, you know?”

“For sure,” Leon responded, yawning after the long day of driving, “Marvin used to take me out on his tractor to my neighbors farm. Me and some other kids used to catch fireflies together.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “That’s so sweet. Oh, here you can pull up into that grass patch over there.”

Leon opened your car door, offering you a hand as you stepped onto the snowy, grassy land. “Fuck, it’s cold,” you said with a shiver, “Don’t talk that way in front of my parents, okay?”

“Noted,” he laughed, taking in his surroundings, “Damn, I’ve missed places like these.”

“Well, yeah,” you responded, “I still don’t understand how you got rich enough as a teenager that you could just move to whatever city you wanted.”

Leon winced, gripping your hand tighter as the two of you approached the front door. “Don’t mention. Seriously, do not mention it.”

You laughed, pounding on your parents door. “Ma! Pop! We're here!”

The door swung open almost immediately. Your mother was wearing one of her hand sewed dresses with a cooking apron in front. She was absolutely beaming. “Hi my loves!”

She pulled you into a warm hug immediately, rocking the two of you back and forth. She then turned her attention to Leon, pulling him into an even tighter embrace before they exchanged hellos. “You must be Leon! Oh my goodness, aren’t you a handsome one! Come in, come in, you must be freezing! Y/N, go fetch your boyfriend one of pop’s sweaters. He’s going to catch his death.”

“Okay ma,” you laughed, giving Leon a sympathetic smile as your mother dragged him into the small dining room to meet your father. “Good Lord.”

After fetching Leon a coat, you walked into the dining room to see both of your parents sitting next to him, completely enthralled with him. Your mother was smiling wider than you’ve seen her smile in a while. Even for you! Your father, on the other hand, contained his excitement a bit better, but you could still tell he was over the moon.

“You kids must be starving,” your mother said, standing up from her chair, placing her hands on Leon’s shoulders, “Let me go get the food. I made brisket and potatoes!”

“Lemme go grab some drinks,” your father said, “You like Bud Light, Leon?”

“Yessir,” your boyfriend responded, “I’m good with just about anything.”

“Attaboy. You like the sound of that, Y/N?”

“Yes, pop,” you greeted your father with a kiss on the cheek. You took a seat at the table, the one farthest from Leon, funny enough. The smell of your mother’s brisket made your mouth water. When both your parents returned, you immediately dug in. Everything was as delicious as you remembered. 

“This is fantastic,” Leon said, “I haven’t had this good of a brisket in such a long time.”

Your mother dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m flattered. I always try to make my best brisket whenever Y/N brings someone over.”

“That little friend of yours, Piers?” your father said, “That kid nearly ate the entire damn animal.”

“That was Chris, pop,” you responded, “Piers is a vegetarian, remember?”

“I thought that was Lydia?” he said.

“Mikayla?” you corrected.

“Oh hush,” your mother interrupted, “You’re always causing drama, Todd.”

“Me?!” your father answered. And thus started a playful bicker between your parents at the dinner table. Leon was smiling the entire time, especially when one of your parents would call upon him for input.

After dinner, your parents set up a small fireplace outside to watch the stars. It didn’t take long for your mother to go inside and sleep, complaining about the cold. Your father followed shortly after, mumbling about having to get up and work tomorrow. When it was just the two of you, Leon moved to your seat, holding you in his arms. 

“The sky is so clear tonight,” he said, his blue eyes illuminated in the fire. He pulled you in for a kiss, his lips cold, “I’m so glad we’re here.”

When you were a child, you imagined wealth to be a safe full of gold higher than the peak of Mount Everest. You desperately chased after it, believing it would give you all the happiness in the world. However, now wealth meant something completely different.

Being wealthy meant having game nights with Chris. Being wealthy meant going on morning walks with Piers. Being wealthy meant going to the mall with Mikayla, even if that meant watching her shop while you snacked on a cheap pretzel. Being wealthy meant having Sunday brunch with Ada and Wekser. Being wealthy meant spending time with your aging parents.

Being wealthy meant having Leon by your side no matter what.

“Me too,” you said, “I’m so happy right now– I feel like I’m richer than you.”

With that, Leon held onto you a bit tighter. You smiled, staring up at the glittering sky. "I love you," you said.

"I love you too."

[danosrosegarden]

(in something already established in some way...?)

giving wesker kisses on his cheekbones where they are most angular...

pressing a kiss to the side of his nose bridge when he scrunches his face and the folds on his nose naturally scrunch up and make him look so, so very catty, so angry, so aggressive when all he's really doing is a bit of a scrunch...

he sneezes, suppressing half of it, and the reader looks at him with so much unfettered joy in their eyes...

how's he reactin

fluffy drabble underneath the cut! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

{gn!reader, ~500 words}

whatever it is that you're trying to do here, it's not exactly working.

he doesn't understand your motives, coming into his office and interrupting crucial work just to gaze at him with star-speckled eyes, a grin brushed with wild admiration, big pupils injected with awe. and it is interrupting, because it's difficult to not pay attention to you when you're in the room. you're undeniably clever and strikingly beautiful and he'd like very much if you could stop being a magnetic witch for ten seconds so he could get something done. he tugs himself out of the current, and you take that as your signal to leave him be. at least for a little while.

truth be told, he'd much rather you stay. truth be told, he isn't quite sure how to say it. softness makes bruises, splotches of purple and green that ripple searing pain when touched. what if something were to happen to you? what if you were to grow weary and angry at him and want to cut him loose? it would be far more simple to not let himself grow attached.

clearly, he has much to learn about being in a relationship.

and you're happy to teach him the basics: i want to be with you. i'm choosing to be with you. yes, you can have your privacy and personal space, but no, you cannot metaphorically or literally shut a door in my face when i'm trying to discuss something important.

maybe it's not an undertaking you bear with ease. it's still a worthy cause, and you're certain of it.

so he's learning it all and drinking it in in a hazy, feverish daze--i can be gentle. i can be open. i can let my guard down. i can be loving. the cross you bore truly was worthwhile, it seemed, because now he doesn't bat you away when you curiously and cautiously peer at whatever he's working on. he doesn't fight it when you say you'd like to just sit back and watch, that's all. you promise you won't be in the way! except you are, little witch, remember? but he can't bring himself to be bothered like he used to.

and he almost catches himself laughing that first time you come in just to plant a couple kisses on his face. what are you doing? ...can you do it again?

his reaction is varied...sometimes you'll get a small grin etched deep into the corners of his mouth. barely visible, but you know his heart is beaming. other times he'll even turn to give you a little pat and kiss you back! how lucky are you?!

it's heartwarming to see the bending transformation from what he was to what he'll let you get away with now. you know there's so much more underneath the frosty exterior, and the excavation brought out somebody you could truly love on without feeling like a distraction.

whatever you were trying to do, it worked out pretty well.

[funnyexel]

Short Stories

A little cuddle session (Gender/Sexuality Friendly)

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

Quiet Tsundere x Reader

Yandere Villian x Identified Female Reader 

I’ve Missed You Beloved (Jack Sparrow x Gender Neutral Reader)

Newt Scamander x Black Female Reader (Oneshot)

Afraid of My Words (Request : Billy Loomis x Black Female Reader)

Give Yourself To Me (August Walker x Black Female Reader)

Second Chance (Gally x Black Female Reader)

Lets Play a Game (Albert Shaw x Black Female Reader)

A Routine (Brahms x Black Female Reader)

Yandere Blurbs

he's obsessed (yandere blurb)

loves you. hates them. (yandere blurb)

a thrill ride of obsession (yandere blurb)

its the stalker (yandere blurb)

missing items (yandere blurb)

what if your stalker loses the remaining piece of human decency he has left (yandere blurb)

imagine clark as your coworker (yandere blurb)

[ranposbabe]

Spillage

pairing: Albert James Moriarty x Fem!Reader

summary: Albert’s favourite wine is spilled and now he has to clean it up :(

warnings: smut, erotic content, unprotected sex!!!

The hour was late and Albert was still yet to return to your shared bedroom.

Everyone in the Moriarty manor decided to celebrate a recent victory taking down a nobleman that had been troublesome for quite some time.

However you couldn’t find it in yourself to join the celebration as you remained tired throughout the day and had returned to your room rather early. William did the same to correct some students test and Herder…

well he’s Herder, putting something together you assumed.

When it comes to celebrations of course there is all sorts of alcohol.

Of course it was Moran who didn’t hesitate to start the drinking early.

How could Albert refuse ?

You found yourself laying just in your undergarments along with one of Alberts white dress shirts that practically engulfed you. The buttons all open exposing your body underneath as the room had a tendency to become quiet warm with the heavy sheets even with the window slightly opened. A book.

Of course the calmness couldn’t last long.

The door practically swung open as the head of the manor walked in causing you to practically throw your book away in such sudden fright.

“Are you tipsy, Albert ?” You sigh, watching his every move as he walked in confident yet a slight trip to his step. His blazer out of sight he always looked fine in his suits.

Tightly gripped in his hand was a new bottle of his favourite wine half empty of course.

“Of course not, y/n.” He smirks. A familiar glow in his emerald eyes. He runs his hand through his typically combed back hair and a few loose strands fall over his forehead making him appear messy and desirable.

“Come to bed, beloved.” You pat the spot beside as if you were trying to convince a child that it was bedtime.

“You’re more so the lord of wine rather than lord of crime.” You roll your eyes, rubbing your hand up and down his back in a comforting manner.

“What’s this ?” He simply asks.

His eyes practically glowed at the sight of you his darling Wearing nothing but your undergarments along with one of his dress shirts. Overcome with tiredness you failed to even button the shirt, your stomach on view. Just like how he liked it.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” You simply state.

“I’d be a fool not to notice.”

For a small intimate moment he presses his lips against yours before going back to taking a swig from the bottle.

Such a gentleman.

“”We’ll I’m sorry my lips don’t taste like wine, Albert !” You scoff at the sight an amused glow in his emerald eyes.

With a smirk on his wet lips Albert turns towards you and in an instant cages you in one arm

Suddenly Albert tips the expensive bottle and the warm red liquid splashed your belly and rolls down your side, staining the silk sheets.

“Albert !” You jump, your attempts to sit up fail as his arm keeps you still. He towers over you, quite the intimidating sight.

“Louis helped me change these sheets just this morning !”

His tongue pressed flat against your stomach licking up whatever was left of the wine like a starved man.

You gasp at the feeling of Albert licking the scarlet liquid from your belly and suddenly that familiar tingle starts riling up inside of you.

“Albert-

“I’ve missed this.” He whispers to himself.

It was only then did you realise he wasn’t as drunk as you originally thought he was.

He always had that certain smirk on his lips.

His tounge invades your mouth, wine spilling and running down your chin

“It seems you need cleaning kissing down from your lips to your neck.

“I don’t recall having wine splashed on my neck ?” You groan, Albert’s wet lips pressing against under your jaw all the while his fingers effortlessly grasp at your underwear. He playfully slaps at your hips silently telling you to raise them. You comply shimmying slightly while whines escape past your lips due to the lack of contact. But as soon as Albert removed your clothing he was quick to return the warmth of his touch.

He licks a long stripe of your cunt taking his time like he would sipping his wine.

His emerald eyes roll to the back of his head as you grind your cunt against his scarlet stained tongue. His brown locks feel so soft as they slip through your fingers as you grip at Albert hair holding him in place as he satisfys himself by enjoying his meal.

You learned quite early on to never interrupt Albert while he was in pure bliss.

But the cravings that rise inside of you make you suddenly wanting more. You practically have to pull Albert off of you to gain back his attention.

He always had his priorities straight.

“I’m here, my love. I’ll have your legs shaking in no time.”

You don’t hesitate in helping Albert remove his clothing while typically you would admire Albert in his nicely fitted suit, in this moment of time you’d rather see it be removed…more often.

The lamp by your bedside leaves the room in an orange glow makes Albert’s skin glow as his dress shirt is finally remover. A wave of greediness washes over you as you run you hand up and down his glistening body from his nice shoulders till just above his suit pants.

It doesn’t take long before his pants are removed and you’re suddenly too shy to look despite knowing not only the captivating appearance of his aching cock but also the sensation that it caused inside of you.

“I’m taking you now, y/n.” He assures, his hand massaging your waist. His eyes flickered down to the sight of your wet cunt, eagerly wanting to dive into his desert. You’ve both enjoyed the pleasure of love making to eacherother for a long time and yet on every occasion you’re both suddenly filled with giddiness and relaxation which come from the complete trust you both hold deeply for one another.

“Then take me, Albert.” You smile, no longer being able to hold back.

You’re connected not only physically but emotionally too. The pleasure not only feels good but Albert’s smile as he stares deeply into your eyes make you more than content.

He takes you just as good as he always has. Albert practically does all the work and yet with the pace of his thrusts you understand that he prefers it this way.

You don’t mind. The only sounds evident in the dimly lit room was your gasps of pleasure and Albert’s groans that sounded like music to your ears. Though the sound was of skin slapping was becoming much more louder.

“Don’t be shy now. You know how to use that voice of yours.”

If they hadn’t already, your ears had blushed red at his constant teasing. Yet really you couldn’t get enough of it despite how embarrassed you may of seemed.

His thrusts were deep as one of his hands rested by your hand holding himself up as his other was stained with scarlet, groping your left breast, clear determination evident on his soft yet toned features.

He soon presses soft little kisses between your breasts. He always shows the same affection with both of your breasts. You had to laugh at how considerate Albert was towards them. Your highs come when Albert leans up and presses a considerably slow kiss against your lips, purposely avoiding tongue making you wanting more. He couldn’t whether your lips were bruised or simply stained by the wine. Either way he liked the sight.

His eyes glow with not only lust but also with admiration as he brushes strands of hair away from your forehead, his touch being so gentle compared to his thrusts.

He doesn’t pull out he remains inside of you. He doesn’t hesitate to move on with the constant kissing onto your neck.

Albert was practically addicted to the sight of your newly bruised neck being mixed with the staining shade of red wine.

“I think the celebration is over.” You breathlessly sigh, running your hand through his dark hair.

“On the contrary.” He doesn’t hesitate to continue his attack on your neck.

“I think it’s just starting.”