#y/n Albert

[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.

[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!

[yanderestarangel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

— SFW AND NSFW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 35

Gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW & NSFW

Reading time (roughly) - 18 minutes

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

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

SFW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NSFW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Lactation kink unlocked!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• He needs it, don't be mean.

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

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

[greenandsorrow]

Hiya I was wondering if you could do a prompt where fem reader is in [as in actress] in all the slashers movies even if it's as a background character? How they would react to her?Have a nice day no worries if you don't get to it!

Author's note: Greetings, slasher community! This is my first work featuring our delicious psychos! Unless you count my platonic Pennywise multi chap (I know he's not technically a slasher, but still). Hopefully, I've covered most of them ♥️

Disclaimer (ig): I left Art the Clown out because, oddly enough, I haven't watched Terrifier yet -but trust me, once I do, I'm sure it'll turn into an unhealthy obsession. Accept my apologies for now.

Rating: Aside from the obv gory nature of the whole thing, it's mostly sfw, with only minor suggestive innuendos. Don't try these relationship dynamics irl.

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Ghostface (in the vague sense), Leatherface, The Grabber, Pennywise (1990), Pennywise (2017), William Afton because he's an undead serial killer and because I can (book, game, movie, not Springtrap this time), +BONUS CHARACTER

~the slashers x fem!actress!reader

Michael Myers 🏠🎃

The living room is silent except for the audio of Scream playing on the TV. You're lounging on the couch, mindlessly watching -until Michael, standing by the wall like a shadow, suddenly pauses the screen.

You blink. "Uh… what?"

Michael remains completely still as he observes the paused frame. A frame of you mid-sprint in the background of the classic horror movie, being chased by Ghostface. Anyone else would argue about whether that's really you, but Michael already knows. He's seen you move like this before. Maybe he's even chased you this way.

Without a word, he switches discs. He presses forward on the console.

And there you are -blurry in the background of a trick-or-treating scene in some other horror media, dressed as a generic babysitter, chatting with another actress. It's barely a second of screen time.

Michael turns his masked face toward you, his posture unreadable.

You shrug. "I needed money. It was just background gigs."

He keeps staring.

Stalker mode: activated.

Jason Voorhees ⛺🪓

You're leaning against his shoulder, a throw blanket draped over both of you.

Jason tilts his head, then turns to you, then back at the screen, then to you again.

If he could speak, he'd be asking "When was this?"

If he cared about emotions, he'd be offended.

You've been in so many slasher movies and never once did you mention it... Are you okay? Have you been running from psychos your whole life? He's almost worried about you.

Expect some extra protective hovering and a machete presented as a gift of comfort.

Freddy Krueger 🔥🌙

"Oh-ho-ho! Look at you, Hollywood! Running for your life again! What's your IMBD looking like, sweetheart? Professional Screamer?"

Freddy cackles, pausing and rewinding just to enjoy your panicked face.

"Damn, you're good. Ever considered coming to MY movies?" He waggles his claws at you. "Bet I could give you some real nightmare material." He's joking. Mostly. But you might want to lock your bedroom door tonight.

Just in case.

Ghostface (in general) 📞🔪

The moment your familiar figure flashes across the screen, Ghostface pauses the movie so fast the remote nearly cracks in his grip.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" His voice drips with amusement, though there's a sharp edge of something else... Interest? Possessiveness? A touch of jealousy? Hard to say.

He leans forward, taking in every detail. "You didn't tell me you were in Scream, getting killed by other Ghostfaces -or Halloween, or Friday the 13th, or literally every horror movie ever made.... Even in Child's Play?!"

He clicks his tongue, pretending to be offended. "And here I thought we had something special."

His gloved fingers tap against your thigh as he considers. "So, do you always run from killers, or are you just playing hard to get?"

A chuckle follows, dark and playful. "You know, I could give you a much more… hands-on experience than any of these amateurs."

He lets the movie roll again, but now he's watching you, not the film. "Final girl, background character, victim... Doesn't matter. You'll always be my favorite scream queen."

Leatherface 🪚🌾

Leatherface watches in silence. A chainsaw in his lap, forgotten.

He doesn't understand movies too well, but he does understand that's you being chased by someone who isn't him.

Excuse me?

You let someone else do the chasing? And you never told him?

Next thing you know, he's pacing, huffing under his breath. Expect extra possessiveness and a LOT of lingering looks.

Also, if that actor playing Ghostface suddenly goes missing… you know nothing.

The Grabber (Albert Shaw) 🎩🎭

The room is dimly lit, the glow of the TV flickering against the walls as A Nightmare on Elm Street plays. He turns to you, eyes glinting behind the sockets of his signature mask. A low chuckle rumbles from his throat. "Look at that."

His voice is smooth, almost teasing. "You're so good at being scared."

He fixates on the screen, watching the way your body moves, the way you fight to survive. Something about it simply delights him.

"You know, you'd look even better in my basement" he muses, his tone almost affectionate. "No cameras. No audience. Just you and me."

His gloved fingers tap against the armrest. "I wonder if you'd last as long as they let you in the movies…"

Then, suddenly, he laughs -light, breathy, as if the thought genuinely amuses him. "Maybe, you'd last even longer... If I want you to."

Pennywise (1990) 🎈🍿

Bob Gray is having the time of his life watching you in all these horror movies. He's laughing, cackling, absolutely thriving.

"Y'know, I could've given you real horrors to perform, kiddo!" His grin stretches wide. "And that running? Pfft! Amateur work! You should see how kids run from me!"

"Oh-ho! There you are again, kiddo! Look at you run! And run! And run some more! Boy, you really know how to make a monster work for it!"

But then, he sees him. His replacement. His knock-off.

The smile fades. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, squinting at the screen like a father seeing his daughter bring home the wrong guy.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Look at this guy. Thinks he's scary." He flicks a dismissive palm at the screen. "Ooooh, I'm tall! Ooooh, I drool all over myself! Ooooh, I wear frilly clown pants like I just crawled out of a Victorian nightmare!"

He turns to you, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You fought this guy?"

A wheezing laugh escapes him. "Honey, you downgraded! Big time!"

"He tastes fear? Kiddo, I invented that shit. He's just doing a cheap impression of yours truly. And let's not even talk about that goofy-ass head-tilt he does."

He jerks his head side to side in an exaggerated impression. "What's the matter, buddy? Need a chiropractor?"

With a smirk, he throws an arm around you, pulling you close like some sleazy salesman. "Listen, sweetheart, if you really wanna be haunted by a clown, why not go with the original? Hmm?"

His sharp teeth flash you a smile. "I'm funnier. I'm nastier. And I won't just stand there like some awkward mime in oversized shoes."

Pennywise (2017) 🎪🩸

Pennywise watches, slowly tilting his head. Then tilting it more. And more.

"You run so well" he purrs, voice thick with amusement. "You know… I could chase you better."

He grins, showing sharp teeth. "Would you like to practice?"

Is he joking? Is he serious? It doesn't matter.

The moment he spots you in IT -in a grainy, VHS quality shot of Derry- his entire body stiffens. Then, his gloved fingers start twitching against his knees. His lips part in something between a sneer and a pout.

"You… you were in his movie?" His voice drops into a guttural growl. His yellow eyes flick between you and the screen, utterly insulted. "That knockoff? That circus reject?"

For a moment, he says nothing. Just stares.

Then, suddenly, he bursts into shrill, mocking laughter. "Ahaha! Oh, I get it! You were doing charity work!"

He claps his hands together, the sound unnervingly.

"Helping the less fortunate! That's just so sweet of you!"

He stops laughing a little too abruptly. He looms closer now, voice dipping into something almost sultry, eyes gleaming in the flickering light.

"Tell me, little star…" His grin is wide, impossibly sharp.

"Did he taste you, too?" His head jerks to the side with a sickening crack. "Or were you saving yourself for someone better?"

Before you can answer, his arms snap around you, yanking you into his lap. His breath, hot and damp, ghosts over your throat.

"You're mine now" he coos, teeth just barely grazing your skin.

"My movie. My horror. My little leading lady." His grip tightens possessively.

William Afton (Book Version) 🐰🔦

Book Afton doesn't just watch the screen.

He studies it.

Cold, calculating eyes track every movement you make, every scream, every desperate attempt to escape. The slight twitch of his lips is the only sign of amusement -well, that and the way his fingers tighten around his armrest just a little too hard.

"All those killers" he murmurs, voice as smooth as velvet. "And yet, you always slip through their fingers. Fascinating."

His smile is thin, mirthless. "I wonder… is it luck that keeps you alive, dear girl?"

His fingers reach out, slow, deliberate, tracing a ghost of a touch on your wrist.

"Or instinct?"

His eyes glint dangerously. "I'd like to find out."

And then, he moves.

One second, he's across the couch. The next? You're caged against the armrest, his breath chilling your skin.

"You scream so pretty for them." His voice dips lower, like he's enjoying the chase. "Let's see how pretty you scream for me."

William Afton (Game Version) 👾📺

"We do love a good game of chase in this establishment." He smirks tiredly, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Perhaps you'd like a private audition?"

That's a yes whether you like it or not.

"Hah" he exhales, voice deep, rich and unmistakably British. "Now, that's just precious."

His pale eyes dilate as he watches you on his computer screen, just another background character in a slasher film. "You're terrified, aren't you?" His smirk grows. "And yet, you survived. Brave, little thing."

He clicks his tongue, straightening.

"You know…" he begins, casual, like talking about the weather. "Slashers today are so messy. Bloody, predictable, boring…"

His fingers flex, like he's imagining them wrapped around something. "But me? I was crafted for this. A mind sharper than any knife, a body that refuses to die…"

His smirk sharpens, dark amusement flickering in his irises. "And of course... I don't just chase, darling. I build my nightmares."

He watches your reaction, drinking it in. "Animatronics, trap rooms, hidden passageways… There's no running when the entire building is designed to keep you in."

A low chuckle escapes him. "Now… wouldn't that be fun?

"Oh? No, no, darling! I'm not going to hurt you... I thought you'd be impressed by... this. By my brilliance. Can we at least have a drink later?"

William Afton (Movie Version) 🍕🗃️

Afton watches in eerie silence.

"Hmm."

His expression is unreadable, but you can feel the gears turning in his head. "You have a habit of escaping things, don't you?"

A pause. Then, a half smirk.

"How interesting." He doesn't say more, but from that day on, you swear he watches you just a little too closely. Maybe you shouldn't have let him see that.

"Ohh, now we're talking!" William practically purrs, leaning back on the couch with an easy grin.

"Look at you! Little horror darling. Final girl energy, but still gets caught. Mmm, chef's kiss."

He actually makes the gesture, grinning at the screen like a director admiring his finest work.

Then, his expression shifts. Turns sharper. Hungrier

"But you know, sweetheart… these guys? Hack jobs." He gestures lazily at the killers on-screen.

"Me? I play for keeps."

His fingers trail down your arm, slow, teasing. "Never made you wonder if the monster really wanted to hurt you… or just wanted to keep you?"

He laughs, the sound warm, playful -dangerous.

bonus~

Slender Man 🌲🚫

The static hums through the speakers before the screen distorts. The lights flicker. Something in the air shifts... and you know before even turning your head -he's watching.

Slender Man stands in the shadows, unmoving, unreadable. He has no eyes, no expression, no face -and yet, the pressure of his gaze coils around you like an unseen force. A protecting one, to your relief.

You appear on the screen, a fleeting glimpse -a background figure, passing through some darkened corridor in a forgotten horror film. His head tilts, impossibly slow, almost… curious.

A long limb raises, fingers tapering into nothingness. He reaches -not toward the screen, but toward you.

The images on the television distort again. The signal is lost, replaced by static.

A silent message. A warning.

Or an invitation.

Then, the shadows stretch. The dark pools at the edges of the room, deepening, swallowing the corners. The walls feel further away than they should be.

A whisper brushes the nape of your neck, though no words are spoken.

Help me make my hardworking mom's birthday special! Every little contribution goes toward getting her a gift. Your kindness means the world to me and I truly appreciate your support! Thank you so much!!! CLICKHERE ♥️ (PayPal link)

My masterlist.

Divider by @strangergraphics.

It/Fnaf taglist, you might like this (@satubby @sketchist-art @urdeftonesgrrrl @vampirecrow38 @lilac-and-lavender @sra7riddle-malfoy)

[saddleups]

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

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 4.7k

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

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

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

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

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

And, for the most part, you did.

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

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

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

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

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

This was it. There was no turning back now.

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

“Show me what you can do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then I’ll make it worth the risk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ranposbabe]

Wrinkled Sheets

pairing: louis james moriarty x fem!reader

summary: louis doesn’t like the fresh sheets wrinkled but you kept provoking him :(

warning: smut, slight mention of voyeurism??, unprotected sex!! he’s sick of your bs

Each morning the same routine occurred.

From the moment Louis woke up as the rays of sun rise sneaked in past the curtains, he’d gather himself up and dress along with making the bed with fresh sheets. He found it somewhat relaxing. A simple not even task completed to start off the uncertain day.

Atlas, one’s tasks are certain to be disrupted when you are around.

“Louis !” You exhaustingly call, practically slouched over standing in the doorway. Your call did nothing but bounce off the walls as he continued to folding the sheets so precisely.

You couldn’t believe it ! You barely could find it within yourself to stay awake at the crack of dawn to even think about the daily chores let alone do them !

“y/n I’m rather busy at the moment.”

He’s polite with his words yet his back remains to yous still and suddenly a devious thought provokes your mind. “Doing what exactly ?” You tease, taking steps forward as you now stood behind him. Your curiousity leads you to stand on your tippy toes in an attempt to look over his broad shoulders. “y/n” Louis sighs, his hand patting out the creases. You could only stare down at his long fingers and the way they-

“Oh !” You gasp, your balance lost like your lucid dreams. You’re quick to fall against his back but not before Louis quick reflective kick in and he turns ever so slightly just to take you into his arms to stop you descending to the floor.

Just a moment everything stops and you feel everything. How both of his hands are placed against your lower and upper back. How even though you don’t dare look up as your heads places against his chest that its pace has indeed increased ever so slightly.

“Careful.” He softly tells you off before letting you go and it’s only when you’re not pressed against Louis, you feel the sudden coldness of the room and it leads you feeling such discomfort. Time to pursue your idea !

Louis stood still clearing his throat as he adjusted his glasses and he was none the wiser as you moved before him.

As soon as the back of your knees collided with the edge of the bed you didn’t hesitate to sit down, crossing your legs in the process.

You look up and you’re clearly not taken back by the irritated look on Louis face. His brows are practically always furrowed when in your presence.

“Get up.” A sigh once again escapes his lips, staring you down. You take on the challenge.

“Why should I ?” You tilt your head, resting down back on your elbows. He still stands above you, not threatened by your game. That is until your legs are uncrossed and ever so slightly spread and Louis realises that he’s standing ever so close to between your legs.

The faint blush on his cheeks and ears gives him away.

But Louis is quick to compose himself when he sees your elbows creasing the sheets and now he’s been set off. Poor you.

“Enough !” He finally snapped, his tone sharp with warning. His scarlet eyes filled with temptation. You will admit, his tone made a whimper out of you but when you stared up into those eyes you knew deep within you that he was welcoming this challenge.

He continue to glare right down at you, you’re not sure whether he was in contemplation or if this was your punishment. Either way, you were starting to feel uneasy about the answer that you were guaranteed to find out.

“Louis I-

You try to sit up yet as if a switch had been turned, you’re pushed down by the young Moriarty and soft lips are pressed against yours which you greedily accept. Strands of blond tickle your forehead as his hands grip onto the sheets beside your head. Creasing them far more than you’ve done.

He pulls back but before you can question him, he pulls his glasses off, throwing them above you onto the pillows.

Whenever the glasses come off that was when you understood to keep quiet.

His lips now more eager are once again on yours and you return the favour by the opening your mouth to invite his tongue.

It is when Louis reaches down to pick up your leg by the back of your knee that your skirt rises, that you realise the obvious.

“Louis !” Your eyes widened. “The door is still open !”

Anyone could walk by at any moment and the would see the disgrace of yourself. This seemed to only rile Louis up even more, you could tell by the way his teeth dragged his lip without a single care. With nothing to say, you could only pout. His kisses are moved down to your exposed neck. Sooner or later your neck wouldn’t be the only thing out in the open for anyone walking by to view.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements. How his fingertips rested around your throat, not squeezing but reminding you what he’s capable off. How the light purple and blue veins look exquisite and decorate his surprisingly smooth hands. His other hand was busy pulling up your skirt that was getting in the way of his desire. Your cheeks were warm, in an instant the buttons to your blouse were opening and your legs displayed which Louis rubbed your thigh with his remaining hand yet he was fully clothed, not even his bow tie was disturbed. It felt like a silly game that really only you were playing, following along to his rules. He was the real winner here.

While his addictive kisses which turned your skin into shades of purple moved down to your chest, you sneakily took the chance to move your seemingly stiff hands down to his belt.

You barely got it open before your hands were ripped away. “Are you going to continue to misbehave?” Louis questions you all the while he tugs down your undergarments, your skirt still ruffled around your waist. “Well ?” His movements stop. It all depends on your pretty lips to move.

“Um.” The embarrassment which prior was nonexistent is evident of your reddened face. You could feel his nails begin to dig into the skin beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“I’ll behave.” Your heart is thumping out of your chest and the sight alone of your pleading eyes of submission makes Louis weak in the knees. Quite literally.

Your back arches from the bed, sheets creasing the more your head sways back as your hands move from the sheets to Louis’ hair as he places delicate but long fulfilling kisses on your cunt. The more Louis licks and even bites the more you forget yourself and your lustful cries can be heard outside of the room where the door is wide open as ever.

It’s when Louis’ teeth have a slight nip at your clit, he looks up and those scarlet eyes can see the satisfaction on your dazed face.

He pulls back, looking down at his glistening prize. Not only are the sheets now destroyed in wrinkles from you griping so tight but also due to your soaking wet cunt that’s non stop dripping well because of Louis’ skills.

You don’t even get a second to come down from your high as his mouth is replaced with his cock. His cock so deep in you he snugly fits perfectly. Even if it takes you a minute and a gasp to adjust to his long girth. Every fast thrust, his cock touches your cervix, intending to leave bruises just like your neck. All you can do is cling onto him by his clothed shoulders as he uses your cunt to his advantage. Of course you always have to irritate him. Of course you’re delaying him of his tasks. Always you and your desirable cunt getting in his way !

Well he won’t have it anymore ! The sheets at this stage are done for ! Anymore mess to be made will be put onto you. Quite literally !

As you both reach your high together, it was rightfully Louis’ turn to make a mess and of course he would all over your exposed chest and blouse. He was fully dressed, he can’t make a mess of his own clothes now can he ?

The switch had been turned again, no longer under your enchantment. Louis gathers himself quickly, adjusting his pants as you’re left covered in his mess. “I need to prepare tea.” Louis states, his hands fumbling in an effort to fix his crooked bow tie. You can only stare in, not even budging.

He points to the sheets, his demands never tire. “I want them replaced when I come back. If not you’ll obey the repercussions.” Like that Louis bolts out the door, behind on his daily routine, not even sparing you a glance.

All you’re left to do is pathetically lie there, panting away in a useless attempt to catch your breath. But that’s doesn’t mean you follow instructions. You continue to lie there eagerly staring out at the open doorway, waiting for the repercussions.

[weskerslefthand]

I see red || Albert Wesker x reader

inspired by Everybody Loves An Outlaw - I See Red

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

The last time, they were infuriating.

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything… except you.”

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

The anger inside you burned hotter.

You lunged.

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

His eyes darkened.

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

Before you could react, he struck.

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

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

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

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

Wesker grunted, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he laughed.

Low. Amused. Infuriating.

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

Your chest heaved, adrenaline buzzing under your skin.

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

Those red eyes burned.

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

A promise. A warning.

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

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

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

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

And then he was gone.

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

Seeing red.

[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?

[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)

[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! ❤️

[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?

[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.

[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

[lilith0fthevalley]

The Duality of A Man {S.T.A.R.S. Era!Wesker x Reader}

Content Warning: This piece contains themes of manipulation and deception under the guise of charm and flirtation. Readers sensitive to manipulative dynamics or morally ambiguous behavior may wish to proceed with caution.

As always, Reader discretion is advised.

The task given was simple. Assemble a team of specially chosen characters, train and cultivate their skills, ignore the rest of the details that followed… So how did Wesker get here… On a date with a sweet little civilian in a safer corner of Raccoon City. Let’s rewind…

2 Days Prior…

There were two sharp knocks on Wesker’s office door before it swings open and Rebecca pops her head in.

“Cap? Got a sec?” She asks, tone warm and sweet.

Wesker puts his pen down and pulls his rectangular reading glasses off his face. “Rebecca. Come on in. What’s on your mind?” He posits and leans back in the maroon coloured leather chair. The end of his glasses hangs between his lips.

The young S.T.A.R.S. member bounds in and grins. “We’re doing happy hour tonight after shift…. You missed last week and said you’d make it up…” She teases. He lets out a faux irritated huff.

“Is that what I said, Miss Chambers?” He teases and flashes a perfect white smile.

Rebecca pouts playfully back. “You make me sound old as hell when you call me that…” He just laughs and shakes his head.

“It’s all meant in jest, Rebecca.” He pauses for a beat and looks up from his desk. “... Where are we going this time around?” The blonde man muses and taps his lip with the glasses.

“Startin’ at S.T.A.G.L.A., ending at Krimson.” Jill’s voice carries from the door. It makes Wesker and Rebecca look up.

Wesker gives a resigned sigh. “As long as we can stop for a round at Bloodhound, I’ll go.”

Rebecca throws her arms up and lets out an excited “yippeee!!” before rushing past Jill to inform the others of the attendance of their captain.

Jill lingers in the doorway for a moment, a knowing smile plastered on her face. “Bloodhound… I thought you hated that place. Owner’s a prick, if I recall correctly…” She muses and taps her chin. He scoffs at her. 

“I do, I just-”  “Just have the hots for the new bartender. It’s ok. You can say it.” Jill jabbers out quickly and grins wolfishly. Wesker glares at her, but there’s no heat behind it. “I am not infatuated with Miss L/N-” 

“YOU ALREADY KNOW HER NAME!” Jill howls out and her grin widens as she turns and rushes off. Wesker blinks, sighs and shakes his head. 

This was going to be a long night…

~

In the low lights of Bloodhound, a gritty, no-nonsense bar known for its cheap whiskey and a jukebox that only plays rock and blues, Wesker forced himself to continue sipping the vile amber coloured liquid. It wasn’t up to his tastes. To his high standards, but it would do. As long as he got to see her… It would do.

Y/N was behind the bar, taking orders and mixing drinks with the grace and fluidity only accomplished after years of bartending. Her hair lightly tousled out of its low ponytail, bangs flying about, but that smile still on her face. It just barely crinkled the edges of her eyes, Wesker noticed in his buzzed haze. She flits her gaze to him and her eyes… those damn eyes, seem to sparkle at him. He raises his glass in acknowledgement and takes a sip. 

‘Calm the hell down, Albert. She’s no one. Just a bartender.’ He rationalizes as his phone buzzes. Front left pocket of his jeans. Umbrella. He subtly glances around before checking the message from his alternative employer…

‘Hireups have requested you find another way to blend in. The little lark behind the bar seems to have your attention. Figure something out.’ 

The message is short. No nonsense. Straight to the point. Just how Wesker-the real Wesker-likes it. None of the floundering back and forth bullshit of the S.T.A.R.S. teams or the other imbeciles at the RPD. He pockets his phone and meets the leering eyes of a man in a once pristine button up shirt. Another man like him, tasked with blending in. He gives a curt nod and looks away, Back into the cheap whisky in his glass and the reflection of his crystalline blue eyes staring back at him. 

~

As the activity of the bar slows, the sounds of billiard balls clicking, raucous chatter and souring arguments that occur in the background lessen and lessen.

Y/N looks a bit more at ease. Her smile was much less forced this time around as she tidied up the bar and took away empty glasses.

She made her way over to him and leaned against the sticky wooden surface with her forearms. “Welcome back. Good to see ya again.” She quips with a lopsided grin and tilt of her head.

Wesker puts on his charms, smirking at her and doing that low chuckle that he overheard Rebecca and Jill talking about a few weeks ago. “Good to be back. Great to see you, too.” He muses back at the bartender. He catches how the tips of her ears turn red. 

Hook. Line. And Sinker. This is too easy.

He leans back in the stool, tapping a hand on the bartop. “You know… I’ve been meaning to ask,” he drawls, voice low and smooth, “How is it someone like you ended up in a place like this?”

Y/N huffs a laugh, grabbing an empty glass to wipe down. “What, a place like Bloodhound?”

Wesker nods, lifting his drink. “Exactly. You seem… too bright for this.”

She tilts her head slightly, an amused smile curving her lips. “You calling me a lightweight?”

The chuckle that rumbles from his chest is soft, warm. “Not at all. Just saying… you stand out. In a good way.”

Her smile falters slightly — not from discomfort, but surprise. He notices the way her fingers pause briefly over the glass, as if trying to figure out how to respond.

“Well… bills don’t pay themselves.” She shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes. Maybe pride. Maybe something more guarded. “Besides, I like it here. Good people. Good company.”

He hums, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I’m glad to hear that.” His gaze flicks up to meet hers. Steady. Intentional. “I was starting to wonder if I’d have to give you a reason to stay.”

She blinks — and then laughs. A soft, genuine laugh that she covers quickly with her hand. “Wow… that’s smooth.”

He shrugs with mock humility. “Just honest.”

Y/N shakes her head, still smiling. “Well… you’ve got good timing. I’m off at midnight.”

He raises an eyebrow, feigning mild surprise. “Is that an invitation?”

“Maybe.” She wipes her hands on a bar towel, tossing it over her shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Wesker leans back in his seat, the corners of his lips curving upward in satisfaction.

Hook line and sinker indeed…

~~~

Masterlist

[cherryskyies]

Little thing

This is short, but it has been sitting in my drafts forever, so I thought why not. Warnings: Albert Shaw - do I need to say more? Masterlist || Ao3 || Wattpad

The Grabber is confused, rightfully — in his mind, at least — so. For starters a grown woman is far from his kidnapping type. You are twenty-three, in college, and working a nine to five, but as twisted as it is, he finds the idea of corrupting you much more arousing than those little boys; you had a planned out future, something you were working to be, and he stripped it all away from you in mere seconds. 

Your tear-filled eyes drained of whatever hope they had left the moment he overpowered you, every dream and aspiration you had left, replaced with uncertainty and fear — something The Grabber never had the pleasure of seeing with those boys – sure they were afraid, but nothing compared to you. 

Your life is ruined in a way those boys would never grow old enough to understand.

He’s there when you awake in the dingy basement, watching the way you keep your eyes shut, praying to the same god that got you into this mess to get you out — he can hear the shaky breaths leaving your lips, the newfound hope that it’s all a bad dream diminishing as quick as it came. “My dove,” he starts, pulling you from whatever day dream you inhabited. “I know you’re awake.”

There it is again, the helpless look in your teary eyes. If you knew what it did to him, would you try to hide it? Of course you would, but it would only anger him to hide your pretty face — he can picture it now, using his large hands to pry them away and relish in your fear. 

He’s towering over you with that devil mask concealing the face you’ve already burned into your mind — the bottom half is blank, as if to say he’s unsure about you; a blank slate, if you will. 

The question claws its way up your throat and out of your mouth before you can even register it, “Are you going to kill me?” You force yourself to meet his eyes, which under any other circumstance you would’ve found hypnotizing. 

Your question catches him off guard, not that you can tell. He pauses to think, tapping the bottom of his blank mask: tap, tap, tap. He’s been asked this question by every victim, but somehow you have him stumped — this only excites him further. 

It’s only a few seconds of tantalizing silence before he speaks, “Not if you behave, you’re much prettier like this.” but it doesn’t ease your nerves; in fact, it makes you feel worse and he can tell. “My dove, I promise I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me, understand?” it’s a warning, but you nod — he sounds sincere, you reason. “Since we are on the topic,” he begins, leaning down to lift your chin higher. “I also won’t do anything you won’t like.” and there’s something off about the way he says it, not sexual but far from innocent. He is testing the waters, hoping to elicit a reaction from you, but you give him nothing more than a hesitant nod.

Tension weighs heavy in the room, breathing in itself becomes a difficult task and you’re too afraid to speak — stuck in a staring contest you’re bound to lose. 

He moves to a kneeling position, placing himself in front of you inches away. “You’re a docile little thing aren’t ya?” he teases, a shitty attempt to lighten the mood. “Usually, they’re fighting for their life and spittin on me,” a hand reaches out to grip your chin, pulling you closer to him, “but you’re being such a good girl.” 

Your behavior is odd, but he appreciates it, nonetheless, already thinking up ways to reward you.