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silentwonderlocks · 2 months

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Your Own Sky- Albert Wesker x GN!Reader - One Shot

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of violence and murder, angst

You shouldn’t worry too much now, dear. You’ll soon be free of all of this anyway.”

The Police Station looked different at two in the morning, almost like a haunted house taken right from a movie set and put in the quaint town known as Raccoon City. The light mist of rainfall didn’t help with its appearance either. It stood tall glaring back at you as you stood outside the main gate. Your morning shift was long over but you couldn’t help but drag yourself back here, late at night when fewer officers would be around the station. You have found yourself doing this for two long and torturous weeks ago when everything changed in the S.T.A.R.S. program when everything began to change in you.

Your hand pushes open the ornate pewter gate, leaving it ajar just enough to walk through. Once your hand leaves the gate, you listen as it shrieks itself close. The sound echoed in your mind for a moment, when did this place start to begin to feel like a prison? You took your time walking up the concrete steps, each step felt like a sentence until you finally reached the double wooden doors. You pushed them open and walked inside, now in the main lobby.

The main lobby was nothing like the normal police stations in America, then again, nothing was like Raccoon City. It was once a regal art museum, filled to the brim with paintings, and elegant sculptures. Now nearly completely renewed as a fancy-look police station. It used to be one of your favorite things about the place, how every room felt like a discovery wondering what was originally here. Thankfully, the police station did end up keeping more of the more.. defining pieces such as the pure white marble maiden statue in the lobby. The lion statue at the top of the main double staircase, the unicorn statue next to the library, and so forth.

No one was there besides the young receptionist at the police desk, Officer Bradley. A man in his early twenties, with a short black buzzcut, and a gold hoop earring in his left ear. Currently in the middle of what looked like some random game card on the computer, Solitaire maybe? Bradley seemed to have felt you staring because his head snapped up to you so fast, you were sure he must have pulled a muscle. His milk chocolate eyes lit up slightly seeing you, you had both been pretty friendly in the short time together. A few greetings and asking what each one would be doing that weekend, nothing more than short and friendly talk.

Bradley smiled at you, it wasn’t a friendly “Hey good to see you one”, it read more of a “Hey, you should be home resting”. A sympathetic and sorrowful one. It was the same treatment you and most of your fellow members of S.T.A.R.S. The constant coddling and walking on eggshells, the never-ending condolences. You hated it in a way, you wish everything would just go quiet and back to normal but it wouldn’t. But you swallowed your pride and gave a small smile back at him. Now was not the time to be thinking about the past, not yet.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, resting for your shift tomorrow? Or should I say today?” Bradley asked in a smooth baritone voice. You swore that if he wasn’t a cop, he would be making a living as a singer.

You let out a soft laugh then shook your head at his comment. He wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t the first time that you had come into work with less than 8 hours of sleep. Plus the station’s crappy coffee while tasting like utter garbage, did its job of keeping you awake when needed.

“I’ll be fine, all of us practically live here anyway,” You responded dismissively, waving your hand.

“Heh..maybe for you. I like going home and living the outside life.” Bradley says with a chuckle and slight shake of his head.

“To each their own I suppose, dont work too hard.” You say as you begin to walk away and the small ramp then up the left staircase of the station. You heard Bradley snort but didn’t proceed to say anything more.

You walked up the stairs, turning left into the library’s hallway. You walked past the huge bookshelves lined with all kinds of research and information. Empty tables and chairs, with a few wrappers from the vending machine candy. It doesn’t take you long to get where you truly want to go, where you need to go. Past the unicorn statute, into a long L-type hallway. Finally, you reach the section of the station you have been dreading to be in every day since that night. The lone door stood there, with a metal plaque in big bold letters next to it that read: S.T.A.R.S. Special Tactics and Rescue Service.

You stare at the words that seemingly mocked you. If S.T.A.R.S was supposed to be at the top of the team, Raccoon City’s best of the best then how did everything go so wrong? The taste of bile slowly rose in your throat, you knew why. It sickens you and makes you want to scream out. But you don’t.

Being outside of the S.T.A.R.S office was already a hard thing but being inside was a different experience. Even now as you stand in the doorway of the office. You just frown looking ahead at the desks. There were nine long wooden desks, some facing back to back with the others. It was a small space for each person but they made it work. Everyone had something or a style to their desk to indicate it was theirs. You walk up to the desks, noticing the tenth and eleventh one on the right side pinned against the wall. Out of the eleven desks there, five were empty and cleaned out.

You frowned looking at them, it was only two weeks ago when your Captain took you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S on a mission regarding a mansion. The Mansion Incident. At the time, it seemed like a normal mission despite the reports of people.. eating each other. You took a seat at your desk, it was across from Jill’s and diagonal from Chris’s. Both respected co-workers and survivors with you. You couldn’t believe it was only two weeks ago, you lost five members of your makeshift family. It didn’t help that memories and sounds of their laughter and voices were a mere fade now. Tears began to prick your eyes, you didn’t want to forget them and all the time spent together, but every day you felt them slipping from your mind. You held your head in your hands trying to calm the pain.

Monstersourus. That is the word you use and still use to describe that night in question. It started normal, being dropped off to investigate only to be chased into a mansion nearby by hideously diseased-looking rottweilers. The rest of the night was a house of horrors, people being picked off left and right, monsters of all kinds and shapes attacking you from any opportunity that arose. The worst of it all was the betrayal by the man whom you loved and respected the most. Captain Albert Wesker. The man who sealed everyone’s fate that night and the rest of their lives.

Your relationship with Wesker was…complicated to say the least. He was your boss first and foremost but over the two years of working along his side.

Something had changed, your dynamic was simple at first.

You would always greet him like you would any other officer, and he would usually respond with a curt ‘morning’ or just simply nod his head. You would ask him along with the others if he would join you for drinks after a successful mission. He would always decline, saying ‘I have more important things than killing my brain calls on cheap alcohol’. A statement that rings deeper in you than you remember.

Sparring sessions with him is where the dynamic began to change. It was a late night after a rough mission, rough missions are usually ones where the team isn’t able to save everyone and in this case, it was a young kid. It hit you hard and instead of going home for the night like everyone else did. You stayed there in the workout area, just punching the hung-up bag over and over until your hand felt numb. The memory is slowly replaying in your mind.

“Poor stance and swing. Who taught you how to punch?”

You jolted in surprise, turning around to see your captain, standing in the doorway. Bemused by your fighting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his black sunglasses staring back through you. Still in his uniform without the vest and radio. Your heartbeat sped up, he always had this imitating nature to him.

“uh...Chris sir.” You respond at first, waiting to see if he needs you for something or if he is just making conversation.

Wesker scoffed, the corner of his thin lips twisting into a light scowl. His grip on his arms seemed to tense up.

“Remind me, I need to retrain Mr. Redfield. He’s getting sloppy.” You nod at his request, expecting him to walk away and leave you to finish up your workout. But he didn't, he stood there longer. Like he’s waiting for something.

“How long were you watching??” You ask him with light pants.

“Enough to know that if you’re in a real fight, you won't last long.” You stared at him with an offended expression, unsure what to say.

“Excuse me?” He scoffs one more.

“I know you’re not daff, you heard me the first time. I will not be repeating myself.” You frowned looking at him, this was honestly the most you have talked with him.

You and he may have not talked but you did notice things about him. While being a hardass and strict as the rest of the members put it, you saw him as ambitious and just closed off. Over the last two years, you had picked up on his little mechanics. Wesker is a man who speaks with his body when he’s not speaking words. How his lips twist into a scowl when he’s annoyed, when he’s pleased he lets out a smooth hum noise. When he’s livid, which you have only seen a few times, his jaw clenches, and his eyebrows furrow. At this moment, you knew Wesker was annoyed with Chris but other than that. You didn't know why he was here, wait he did...

“Would you like to teach me properly?” You ask a bit more sassy than you would like. Even if he was your boss, you didn’t like being criticized so rudely.

“If I didn’t then the S.T.A.R.S department would become a joke. I have no room nor the patience for more idiots on this team” And that was how the weekly sparring sessions began.

As the memory fades, you let out a short laugh filled with pain. You close your eyes, wiping the tears away. After the sparring sessions happened, you improved to the point that Wesker said you didn't spar anymore. That didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the routine. You grew to learn about him, how smart the man truly was, and how blunt he could be. It was worth it, or you thought at the time it was worth it.

Despite the tears no longer pricking from your eyes. The pain wouldn’t stop, now that you had remembered and started to think about Wesker. Everything was hurting, you never felt so alone and small before this. Finally picking yourself up from the office chair, you go to the small closed section with a glass door in your way. It wasn’t just any section though, it was Wesker’s office. Or it used to be his. Now it was just another empty seat along with the other five. Out of the twelve of you, you had officially lost six members of the team.

Opening the glass door, your breath hitched. Since that night at the mansion, you hadn’t stepped foot in his office. Part of you was angry, and out of spite wanted nothing to do with him or his belongings, but it wore you down to regret and sadness when you realized that despite how angry you are. You miss him dearly.

To your shock, all of his belongings were still here. All of his books are on the back counter behind his desk. The wall was still littered with all of his achievements and plaques from the departments. His name mocking you as well as you reading the title on the desk.

“Captain Wesker”

Even his desk looked like how he left it. All neat, a pile of papers stacked nicely underneath his desk lamp. A black rotary telephone sat near the lamp, which made sense if the police chief needed to reach him quickly. On the other side of the desk was a computer similar to the one Bradley was playing on. His office chair wasn’t like yours and your fellow members. His was a black and puffy cushioned chair, lucky bastard.

A sickening feeling came back to you, how was his office left untouched but the others were picked clean? Did…no one care? Were...you supposed to do that? A sudden twinge of guilt ripped through you. The more you looked around, you began to notice that Wesker had nothing truly sentimental, nothing that seemed to break the fine line of work and personal life.

Each step inside his office felt like the air was limited. Your emotions ranged from anger to sorrow. You wanted to trash his neat office, you wanted to reflect on the man who killed your friends and co-workers. Reaching his desk, you went and sat down in his seat. You let out a shaky sigh, it still smelled of him...Your hand clenched into a fist as you noticed something that made you want to scream and cry. It was small, so small that you wouldn't have noticed it unless you were behind a desk. Unless you were Wesker sitting in his spot.

In the corner of the computer, there was a tiny wallet-sized photo tucked into the edge of it. So it wouldn’t be able to fly away. The photo was of you and Wesker at the bar, you smiling brightly and him giving a half-annoyed smile to the camera. You were both sitting at the bar counter, a beer in each hand, you had your arm around his waist. Your head leaned into his chest while at the time Brad took the photo. At the time, Wesker wasn't used to nor ready for that kind of contact. Fumbled to hold you back, so the photo caught him trying to hold you back. His free hand is in mid-air.

That photo was the first night he had shown up at the bar. The first time, he had swallowed his pride and decided to join you. While he didn’t come along with everyone, he showed up later. You were so happy and slightly tipsy that you couldn’t help yourself and hug him and excitedly scream to get a photo. You assumed he probably regretted it with how annoyed he seemed. You didn’t know that he ended up keeping the damn photo.

“You bastard..you…” You spoke through gritted teeth, feeling the tears coming back.

“How could you?” You finally asked the question that no one would answer.

More memories began to cloud your mind, all kinds of memories. But the ones that hurt the most were the happy ones with him.

“Wesker. I’ll be fine, I walk home all the time when my car is acting up. I walked here, you know?”

The two of you were outside, it was snowing down awful. You were sure the roads had to be worse than the sidewalks. You were bundled up in a beanie, scarf, and police jacket. Wesker was standing beside you, in a long black winter coat with a red scarf and leather gloves. Fancy man he isn't. Everyone was gone at this point so you were just outside enjoying the last of your coffee when he asked you about your home. He let out a grunt that sounded like a scoff.

“I will not ask you again Y/n, get in the car before I make you work overtime.” Wesker’s lip turns into a slight smirk as he walks to his car. The use of your first name caught you off guard.

“Hey! Do you even know where I live??” You called out walking after him.

“Of course, I need to know my officers' locations in case it's an emergency.” You let out a scoff of your own, of course, he does. Wesker always seems to know something ten steps before you do.

“Wipe the snow off of your shoes.”

“Yes, Mom,” You joke, doing what he asked and entering the passenger seat.

Once you realized what left your mouth, you were frozen waiting for his response. Should you apologize? You weren't really on joking terms with him yet so this was a step in either direction. It must have been a good step because when you heard him lightly chuckle. You finally felt relaxed. Despite the light mood, it was quickly gone when the drive began. What the hell do you say? Do you even say anything? Maybe he likes the silence and you didn’t want to bore him. After that night with him coming to the bar, you quickly realized the next day. He had smitten you and so being in his car alone was making you more nervous than you wanted. Wesker kept his eyes on the road, taking the right roads to get to your apartment building. You would steal looks, watching as the pasting streetlights illuminate his face. How the hell could he wear sunglasses at night?

“Can I ask you something?” You finally spoke, feeling the words tumble out like a nervous mess. Great.

“Only if I can ask something back,” Wesker responded in a smooth tone, keeping his eyes ahead.

“Why do you always wear sunglasses?”Wesker snorted slightly then finally looked over at you for a moment.

“That’s it? You have the chance to ask me anything, and you want to know about my sunglasses?”

“Yep!” You said with a sheepish tone and smile.

“I'm just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat Y/n.”

“Well, satisfaction brought it back.”

Wesker let out another chuckle at your quick wit.“Touche.”

Then there was a silence like Wesker was hesitating or thinking over his next words carefully.

“Let’s just say, I like to be mysterious.”

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It seemed like a throwaway answer rather than the real one.

“What? That’s it? No way. Even at night too?” Wesker smirked once more.

“You already asked your question. It’s my turn.”

You slightly pouted at how he wasn't going to answer your questions but you understood. Maybe it was a touchy topic for him so you didn’t push it any further.

“Do I scare you?”

You blinked at his question. Did he scare you? Not really, maybe intimidate you but never scare you. He was a strict man, ruthless but he was a man who didn’t like incompetence and you could respect that. “Scare me? Why do you ask that?”

“Answer me and I’ll tell you.”Now it was time for you, to choose your words carefully.

“No, you don’t. You’re… a man who speaks his mind. Your appearance can be intimidating but you don’t scare me. You are a blunt man, ruthless sometimes but I think you do it because no one has the balls to do it. Pardon my language.”Wesker said nothing, and suddenly you felt small.

Oh no, did you say something wrong, were you kissing his ass? You noticed that his grip on the steering wheel tightened and then loosened. Like he was fighting an internal conflict with himself.

“I appreciate your honesty.” You waited for him to continue talking but didn't and you didn’t push him. Maybe he was dealing with something and just needed the small reassurance but you didn't have the guts to ask him. You believed he wouldn’t tell you directly either, you were just a coworker. Nothing else as much as you wanted it.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the car ride until he parked to let you out.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“Before you go inside. I would like you to accompany me to dinner this week if you’re free.”You blinked in surprise. No way, he wasn't asking you out?

“Dinner?”

Wesker sighed once more, opening his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“I know I know, you don't like repeating yourself. But I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.”

“Is it a yes?”

“Yes.”

There your relationship began to blossom from simple co-workers to a forbidden romance. A fruit that tasted so sweet who could ever see the downfall? It was bliss and simple and you loved it. You noticed all of the little things that came along with the relationship.

While Wesker wasn’t affectionate, he would show his feelings in other ways. Firstly you noticed how he would leave you a cup of warm coffee on your desk since he would always get there before anyone else. Secondly, you noticed he was always around you more often. It didn’t matter if you were with other people or by yourself, he was always in the room with you. The nights after work were your favorite part, just being able to unwind with him on his couch talking about the future and what office made him upset that day. He rarely kissed you, when he did It would be a short peck on the cheek unless you engaged first. The man talked more with his hands than his words. His hand often being on your lower back, a simple but effective sign that you were his.

It didn’t take long for people to notice Wesker’s little changes either, how he seemed to be less annoyed and a little more lenient with some others. A rumor going around that he had to be dating or seeing someone, thankfully the two of you were good at hiding the truth. Him more than you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks onto his polished desktop, you gritted your teeth. Your head in your hands gripping the sides, hurt and anger fully taking over your mind and body. Slamming one clenched fist down, you quickly removed yourself from Wesker’s chair as if it seared you. Wiping away your tears, you take one last one at the photo on his computer. With one smooth motion, you remove it and stuff it into your pocket.

Standing in the doorway, you glance over your shoulder. Taking one last look at the shell of a man who once resigned here. You close the door, leaving your heart behind with the ghosts. Wesker was gone, dead by his own devices and here you were being helpless. Helpless for him.

You let out a shaky breath trying to keep your composure. As you turned to exit the S.T.A.R.S area, your breath hitched spotting one of the things you have been dreading.

On the wall, next to the exit door was a framed photograph of the entire S.T.A.R.S team. Both Alpha and Bravo. A small sorrowful smile reached your lips, your fingers gently brushing over the glass.

“I miss all of you..so much. I'm sorry, I couldn't save any of you..” You spoke with a somber tone.

“Chris, Jill, Rebecca, Brad, Barry, and me..we are the only survivors. I promise you, we are avenging you all. We’ve been gathering evidence to take down those Umbrella bastards ever since that night.” You spoke again, this time with venom in your tone.

“Even if it kills me, I will avenge you all.” With those last words, you exit out of the S.T.A.R.S area with no intent of returning for the night.

You make your way back into the main lobby, Bradley is nowhere to be seen. His computer paused on the card game still. You thought nothing of it, assuming he went to the bathroom, which you were grateful for. You didn’t need him to notice you had been crying, and then coddle you like a child who lost their toy. You eyed the time on the computer. 3:30 am, damn you were here for nearly two hours and you didn’t even realize it. You sighed, rubbing your face, feeling now a wave of exhaustion hit you. You shook off the feeling, needing to get home first then you could pass out.

You open the main door walking down the concrete steps and reaching the ornate gate. The rain was no longer a mist, now actually coming down rather hard. You could hear thunder booming throughout the night, which meant lightning wouldn’t be too far. You cursed, rushing through the gate, its shrieking drowned out by the rain. Reaching your car, you get in and begin to drive home, focusing on nothing but the lights and the road. Alone with nothing but the rain and your memories.

You should have seen the signs, and the changes in his behavior and attitude one week before the mansion incident. He was on edge constantly, how he seemed to be colder towards you without any warning. You remember how you confronted him about it, an hour before getting on the helicopter.

“Wesker, what is your problem lately?” You asked after you followed him into the armory to talk.

“I'm not sure I know what you mean L/n.” He responded nonchalantly as he seemed to be picking out various types of ammo for the mission.

“Bullshit. Why have you been acting so cold towards me? Did I do something??” You ask, genuinely concerned and hurt by his attitude.

“It’s simple. I don't have any more use for you, you were a fun little experiment. “ His tone was harsh despite his calm composure.

“Experiment?! So… all of this time we spent, the sparring sessions, the late night talks and kisses. All lies?” You asked now angry, feeling yourself tear up but you blinked them away fast.

“What were you expecting? That I settle down and we would be married? Only a fool would wish that. I have more important things than wasting my breath on a lowlife love like yours.” Wesker hissed out, as he began to walk out of the armory.

You said silent at his words, you felt your heart break with every word.

“Now if we are done with this childish talk, we have a mission to prepare for. I expect you to be fully professional and not let your ridiculous feelings cause us failure. Understood L/n?” He spoke not even to glance back at you, the knife digging deeper.

“I..but..”

“I believe I was clear L/n.” He spoke once more, his tone cold and distant.

“Yes…Captain..” You spoke clenching your fists, watching him exit the room and turn down the hallway. You listened as his heavy footsteps departed away. Only when you knew he was truly gone did you let yourself cry.

A loud honk of a horn started you out of your thoughts, you jolted into the driver’s seat. Noticing the light was now green, you sheepishly waved to the car behind you and began to drive once more. You let out a sniffle and wiped your face, dammit when did you become such an emotional wreck?

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, as you continued to drive. You could feel the photo in your pocket burning a hole in you, you felt sick. You had to be insane for caring so much for a man who didn't deserve it.

After what seemed like an hour's drive, even though it was only a fifteen-minute one, you finally pulled into your apartment building. The rain hadn’t calmed down so you had to book into your building without getting more soaked than you were. You ran up to the second floor wet squeaking noises following you. Unlocking the red door, you step inside, closing it then proceed to take off your wet shoes and coat.

Home didn’t feel completely the same either, so many of your co-workers had come over for events and Wesker had been here plenty of times. It felt like being in a stranger's home that just looked like yours.

“This whole city is a damn nightmare,” You spoke to yourself as you walked down the hallway into your bedroom.

Newspapers were scattered everywhere, along with books and piles of paper of old police reports and whatever evidence you gathered on the Umbrella Corporation. One of your walls was covered with photos and a stereotypical red thread connecting locations on a local map. The remaining members of S.T.A.R.S were out for blood and you couldn’t blame them, they had played god and taken away innocent lives. You just wish you didn’t have these damned feelings, it would be so much easier to be hateful.

Ignoring the mess, you go to your mirror and stare at yourself. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were red and puff no doubt from all the crying, and dark circles were beginning to form from the lack of sleep. Jill had offered you some sleeping pills since everyone was dealing with nightmares but you declined fearing you would get dependent on them. You rubbed your face, exhaustion fully aware of your expression. Thank god you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

Your eyes drift up to the right corner of the mirror, it is splattered with different photos. All of them have you in them, in some way with different people. Some are family, some are friends and some are your co-workers. You slowly take out the photo of you and Wesker out of your pocket. You glare at it, waiting for it to engulf itself in flames. But you sigh and then tape it on the mirror along with the others. It looked so out of place but maybe that’s why it felt right to keep it there. You just hoped that Jill or Chris wouldn't be coming around anytime or they would throw a fit.

“I believed in you.” You say out loud, your eyes never leaving Wesker’s photographed expression. You wanted to say so much yet, the words never came out.

“How long have they been slipping you a paycheck?!” Chris asked out of anger and disbelief staring at the end of Wesker’s barrel.

All of you were in the mansion’s underground lab, with blue fluorescent lighting, and huge tanks filled with all kinds of failed experiments. Wesker was over by what looked to be an advanced computer system with three or four screens displaying information you didn't understand. Next to him was a huge water tank. You stood in between Rebecca and Chris, you were already in a vulnerable position, Wesker having broken up with you earlier. You had just spent the majority of the night in both mental and physical pain. All of the zombies, gigantic animals, and the mutated experiments, it was truly a nightmare. If your heart wasn’t broken it was destroyed now, bleeding out.

Wesker kept his eyes on Chris and gave a little scoff moving forward. The barrel inches away from Chris’s face

“I think you’re a bit confused.” He spoke, finally turning to look towards you and Rebecca. It’s like his next words were directly at you.“I’ve always been with Umbrella and S.T.A.R.S. were Umbrella’s.” He paused, correcting his words.

“No, rather, my little piggies.” You felt your face contort into anger, despite your heart sinking into your stomach. He meant what he said earlier, just an experiment. Wesker continued seeming proud of this moment.

“The Tyrant Virus leaked, polluting this whole place. And unfortunately, I had to give up my lovely members of S.T.A.R.S.” Chris raised his hand to point at Wesker in a hateful tone.

“You killed them with your own dirty hands! You son of a bitch!” You knew how much Chris had respected Wesker so part of you felt relieved that you weren’t the only one suffering with these emotions.

“No..” You finally spoke, seeming to be a deer caught in headlights.“Oh yes, dear. Just like this.” Wesker smirked, turning the gun on Rebecca and shooting her in the chest.

“Rebecca!” Both you and Chris screamed, moving to go and check her wounds.

“Don’t move!” Wesker hisses out now the gun raised on both of you.

“You..” It was the only word you spoke, turning around to face him in anger.

“Oh come on. I don't think you want to die just yet dearheart.” Wesker mocked you with his old nickname for you. Motioning to a bleeding Rebecca on the ground with his free hand.

“I have something that's of some interest to you.” Keeping his gun pointed at the two of you, Wesker looked back at the system and began to type in a code with his free hand.

The large water tank next to Wesker lit up showing a huge humanoid monster with one hand being long claw-like appendages. Its fleshy heart was exposed on its chest beating loudly. Your eyes widen in horror at whatever that thing is. Its milky white eyes ran shivers down your spine. Soon the water began to drain within the inside of the tank. You watched as Wesker lowered his gun to turn to the monster. He had a sense of pride in himself as he spoke.

“The ultimate life-form...Tyrant!” Wesker spoke moving in front of the tank. Chris began to laugh with pity and sorrow.

“Wesker, you’ve gone senile.”

“You won't get away with this you bastard!” You yelled at him finally finding your voice.

“Neither of you will understand.” His voice filled with awe and pride. Wesker raised his arms like he was watching his child take its first steps. “It's…magnificent.”

Once Wesker finished that last word, the creature known as Tyrant began to move its large claw arm.

In one quick motion, it broke the glass piercing Wesker through his lower stomach and abdomen. It lifts him in the air, Wesker’s body slowly sliding down on the claws. Those groans of pain and yells he let out would always haunt you. You couldn't help but let out a scream feeling his blood splattered on your face.

“WESKER!”

You and Chris watched in horror as it stepped down from the water tank with ease then tossed Wesker’s body to the other side of the lab. His body bleeding out and slumped down. Without a second to waste, you and Chris pulled out your guns and began to shoot at the monster. Bullets seemed to deflect off of it, but once you and Chris realized the exposed heart was its takedown. You nearly used all of your ammo combined but it was dead…for now. That wasn’t the least of your concerns though, now self-destruction was active meaning you had less than 10 minutes to get the hell out.

“We need to get out of here, I'll get Rebecca. Go and get Jill, she’s in the basement here somewhere.” Chris spoke going to pick up Rebecca, slinging her arm over his shoulder, putting her weight on him. Then rushed out leaving you alone with Wesker and the monster.

You took a moment to walk over to Wesker and knelt beside him. Your hand reached over removing his sunglasses, his crystal blue eyes finally exposed to you. A shaky breath escaped your mouth, you tried to hold back tears.

“Oh, Albert. Things didn’t have to be this way...We could have been..” You couldn’t finish the sentence knowing it didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t be listening or answering.

“Rest now...You’ll be alright now..” You whispered leaning down to kiss his cheek then you closed his eyes.

“I love you…I shouldn't but I still do..” Tears were now rolling down your face, salty mixing into the metallic substance stuck to your face. His blood.

Placing his sunglasses back on his face, you gave him one last kiss on the forehead then rushed out to go rescue Jill and escape this horrible nightmare.

Little did you know.

You were sure those final moments with Wesker would haunt you forever. Maybe that’s why you took the photo, you just wanted to forget what bad he had done. You wanted to remember the man you fell in love with. Closing your eyes, you hung your head down contemplating what to do now. A nice shower would probably be a good start, or you could just go and crash for the night.

Just as you were about to move from the mirror, you froze in slight terror and disbelief. His cologne…you could smell it but it wasn’t faint like how his chair was. It was strong and overbearing as if he was in the room with you…

You shot your head up, to look in the mirror and you opened your mouth in shock. In the reflection, in your dark hallway. A pair of bright amber eyes glowed in the darkness, piercing through your soul. Suddenly lightning strikes outside, illuminating your room and you see him.

Albert Wesker. Standing there in your hallway.

Wesker smirked at you, tilting his head. He stayed in his spot, his hands behind his back. Those amber eyes glowed brightly. Still wearing those damned sunglasses but now he seemed to be dressed in a black suit.

“Hello, Dearheart. Did you miss me?”

“No…you’re dead.” You finally spoke, convinced you were having a psychotic break now. It was the only logical explanation. You had seen him die with your own eyes.

“Quite the opposite.” You blinked for a second and he was suddenly directly behind you in your reflection.

You yelped, turning around to punch him in the face and you gasped when he caught your wrist and tsked softly.

“Now now, I know I taught you better than that.” The harsh grip on your arm, his cologne was stronger than ever now. You were practically inhaling it. This was real, he was real.

You sneered tugging your arm away, like his touch alone burned you. Your body trembles trying to process this new information.

“What the fuck? How are you alive?!”

“You think so little of me? I’m smart enough to not let that be my resting place.”

“I saw you die! That…thing impaled you! No one should be alive from that!” You are trying to understand how this was possible.

“So you did miss me?”

“I never said that you bastard!”

“Oh?” He spoke leaning forward, his face inches away from you. You instantly took a step away, your back hitting the mirror. You watched out of the corner of his eye, he’s grabbing something.

“Then what’s this?” He asks now, holding the wallet-size photo between his middle and pointer fingers. A smug look on his face.

You scowled knowing you didn’t have a good answer to that. You hated how much this man knew you, as much you wanted to kill him and the other part screamed for you to embrace him.

“What are you doing here Wesker? Come to mock me then finish the job?”

Wesker’s face dropped from the smug look to his usual stoic one. He tossed the photo across the room, not concerned if it got lost among the mess. He moved away from you, looking over your evidence and red thread wall. He lets out a scoff.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already.” He then grabs a newspaper.

“I see you’ve been busy with a school project.”

“Umbrella won’t be getting away with this.” You sneer at him.

“Oh, they already have,” Wesker says, turning towards you.

You blinked in confusion.

“What do you mean? Once I show this evidence with Chris and Jill to Chief Irons. Umbrella is done!”

Wesker tsks then scoffs.

“Umbrella has most of the police station in their pocket, including your ‘precious’ Irons. It’ll be a matter of time before S.T.A.R.S. is no more than memory”

“No..” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to believe it but if what Wesker said down in the lab is true then he’s right. All of this evidence would be for nothing but you still had to try.

“I dont care what you say, I'm going to take down Umbrella even if it kills me.”

Wesker’s eyebrow furrows in annoyance, he walks over to you.

“Join me then.”

“What? Are you fucking seriously right now?” You ask with a sorrowful laugh.

“Why would I trust you? After how much you’ve hurt me after you nearly let me die. After you killed our co-workers.”

Wesker glared at you, his eyes flicking from bright amber to a deep red. In his eyes, it was a necessary event, maybe you wouldn't understand now but you would one day.

“Because I know you love me.”

Your face went pale, you stood there eyes widening. How the hell did he know? Was he alive when you knelt beside him? Oh god, did you leave him there to die? Why didn’t he say anything to you?

“H-how. Did you..” You knew the answer, he heard you back down in the lab.

“No. You're wrong” Doubling down on your words.

He smirked leaning down, his arms now wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. Just like he used to do. You sneer trying to push him away but you are caged there. Did he get stronger since you saw him last?!

“Let me go!!”

“What’s wrong? Here I thought you would be ecstatic to see me.” He taunts refusing to listen to your requests.

“Fuck you!

Wesker scowled at your words, his grip tightening on you.

“What a shame. It seems my little act was too perfect. If I didn’t care for you, I wouldn't be here wasting my time.”

“I don't care! I don't want you here and I don't want to see you! You fucking bastard! You killed innocent people!” You ask, feeling too many emotions at once. Anger, sorrow, happiness, cautiousness. All fighting to be opened like Pandora's box.

Wesker just hummed ignoring the little tautrim you seemed to be throwing. He just chuckled, at your poor attempt at rejecting him.

“I did what I had to do. Now what I want is mine, and that is you.” He says in a smooth tone, his gloved hand holding your chin and stroking it. Wesker continued to speak.

“I have plans for the future, and I want you there.”

You frowned looking at him, why weren’t you pulling away from him? Damn your body, it missed his touch so much.

“What kind of plans?” You asked, scared of his answer. You watched Wesker’s thin lips grow into a sinister grin.

“Plans for greatness, my dearheart. You and I, ruling over this world and creating a new order. Just like we talked about it”

His words were crazed but filled with a truth you’d never heard from him. Yes, in the past, you had talked about changing the world but you thought that's all it was. Just small talk.

“We’ll take down Umbrella?” You asked, unsure of your morals anymore.

Five minutes you were ready to scream and claw his eyes out, now you were so confused. Your heart was screaming for you to trust him, and be with him all over again. Your brain told you no, this man would betray you again and would kill you in the end. You just wished you could pick a side.

“You may not believe me but I do have my reasons for wanting Umbrella to burn.” Wesker leaned in, his nose brushing against yours.

“Why fight it?”

“Because..i..” Your words trail off, your eyes locking with his amber ones. They were a beautiful shade of red and orange, glowing lightly. He was beautiful before but now, those eyes..

You didn’t finish your sentence closing the gap between you and him. The kiss was unlike anything the two of you had experienced before. You could feel his desire and wants through the kiss and he could feel your passion. Maybe he misses you just as much as you missed him.

What you wanted to say was that it’s the right thing to do. You felt like you were now the traitor, wasting so many nights and tears on them just to throw them away for him. All of the dead members must be rolling in their graves, and you knew there had to be a spot for you in hell.

“Good” Wesker said in a pleased tone, pulling away from the kiss, his arms still tightly holding you.

“It’s time to create our sky.”

Jill stood outside of the apartment, worried for Y/n. It had been days since anyone had seen them since that last night at the station. Jill had figured that the trauma had finally gotten to them, and they needed some time away.

Rasping her knuckles on the door, she’s put on edge when the door opens from her knocks.

“Y/n? Are you here?” Jill calls out opening the door but doesn’t come in. Feeling something is off, and lingering silence isn’t helping either. Jill pulls out her pistol and gets into the proper stance searching the apartment carefully. She searches each room finding nothing, not even a sign of Y/n anywhere. Finally reaching the bedroom, Jill opens it and swings her body side to side, ready to shoot anyone that isn’t Y/n.

Nothing, not a sign of them. All of the newspapers, the reports, and the red thread wall. Gone, as if it never happened. Jill frowns, putting her pistol away, she steps inside and just feels confused. There was a lone note on the mirror.

All it read was: I'm sorry.

Pulling out her phone, she attempts to call Y/n. Dialtone.

“Shit! That’s not good...I need to tell Chris.” Jill rushed out of the apartment building.

She would never notice the wallet-size photo lying in the corner of the room. The one of the two lovers, now reunited once more in secret.

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #jill valentine #chris redfield #resident evil 1 #resident evil wesker #albert wesker x you #x reader #canon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker one shot

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komotionlessqueenmm · 8 months

Text

Imagine # 1,055

Gif NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

Rating - SFW

Length - Short

"Look I know water is scary Lixian, but I'll be with you the whole time." (Y/n) encouraged her friend through discord, trying to coax him into following her character into the lake. "No no I'm good." Lixian laughed nervously, backing his character away from the water. "But there could be secrets!" (Y/n) tried to insist, but Lixian only scoffed in response. "They can stay a secret!" He argued making (Y/n) laugh. "Okay okay, I'll go by myself." She sighed before walking her character out into the inky black water. "If you get attacked I'm not helping you." Lixian warned with a laugh. "I know." She smiled to her camera. "Isn't he a great friend guys?" She asked her chat, laughing when he scoffed in mock offence. "I already told you, I will not go near that water." Lixian pointed out. "Yeah yeah I know." (Y/n) chuckled, only moderately disappointed to find there were no secrets, or any scares to be had. "Oh hey love, thank you." (Y/n) spoke to someone off camera who's arm briefly came into sight, placing a glass of her favorite warm drink on the desk. "What?" Lixian asked in confusion. "Oh sorry Lix, my boyfriend just brought me a drink." She explained, beaming when he leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. "Nice. I've got coffee." Lixian stated before sipping his drink. (Y/n) watched as her boyfriend moved across the room, setting on the loveseat in the room. "Wow my chats going crazy." She mused as she looked at chat. "About what?" Lixian asked curiously. "They wanna meet my boyfriend." She looked over to find him already looking at her. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up again. "Okay you guys win, he's been watching the stream on his tablet, and he's agreed to say hello so you get to meet him." (Y/n) spoke to chat. "Oh let me pull up your stream I wanna see." Lixian mused aloud, pulling the stream up so his chat could see as well. "Okay guys this is my boyfriend Axel." (Y/n) introduced, as he knelt beside her, looking onto the camera. "Wow he looks familiar." Lixian pointed out, both his chat and (Y/n)'s going crazy. "We hear that a lot." She chuckled softly. "He looks like Wesker from Resident Evil!" Lixian gushed suddenly, making (Y/n) grin. "Yeah I tease him about that all the time." She mused before kissing her lovers cheek. What they didn't know was that he was in fact Albert Wesker, having crossed from his world into theirs several years ago, and he's been with (Y/n) since he arrived in this world. "Hello everyone." He spoke to the camera, smirking in a signature way. "Oh my god he even sounds like him!" Lixian gushed again, making (Y/n) chuckle with a knowing smile.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I'm really tired right now, and I feel like this one sucks, but ima post it anyways!

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blueysobssesions · 1 year

Text

Touch Her and Your Dead

Captain!Albert Wesker x Reader

Nobody touches his gurl 😤

It was a busy day at work. Albert's desk almost full of paper and his intense typing on his keyboard. He was so focused that he didn't notice you standing infront of hus office door. It worried you... he shouldn't be overworking himself that much. "Honey... why don't you take a break?" He ignored you. You sighed "Albert? Just please take a - " "Don't you see that I'm busy?" He said in an annoyed tone that made your head bow down. "I-Im sorry-" "Just leave" he then continued typing on his keyboard not bothering you. You nodded and leaved his office closing the door behind you 'He's stressed out that he got mad at me...' you thought of giving him some time. You then looked around you, everyone is hella busy. You walked towards the water dispenser to drink. You grab a cup and out it on the cup holder of the water dispenser "Woah, didn't know I'm working with a beautiful young lady~" you flinched when you heard a voice behind you. You turned around facing a man... He's too close!! You felt uncomfortable "U-uhm, can you please back up for a moment?" God, your hoping that he would because if not your going to scream. Everyone was too busy that they couldn't notice you two. "Do I really need to? C'mon, stay a little~" you felt his hand touching your right thigh. You were about to scream at him when someone spoke behind the man infront of you "And what do you think your doing over there?" It was Albert thank god... Everyone in the room then turned to look on what's happening, somehow Albert's voice triggered them. The man infront of you ignored him 'What the? Did he really just ignored him?' you looked around and see everyone watching the scene and spotted Chris watching too... And smirking? "You look pretty~ why don't we-" The man stumbled back when Albert grabbed his shoulders and shoved him away from you. He was now on the floor "Hey! I was talkin-" "Watch your mouth" Albert kneeled down to stare into his eyes, taking of his glasses "Touch her and your dead" he said, his eyes glowing in red making the man shiver in fear "Chris, take him outside, I don't want to see his face" Chris did what he was told to. Putting his glasses back "Get to work!" He yelled to Everyone making you flinch. He turned around to look at you "Albert-" "Are you alright?" He asked in a worried tone. Your heart felt warm. Smiling "I'm alright... Just shocked on what he just did..." You said, "Don't worry, he'll never do that to you ever again... And... I'm terribly sorry for what I did... I was so stressed out that I couldn't -" he suddenly felt you wrapping your arms around his waist putting your face onto his chest "It's alright... But, please don't overwork yourself?" He smiled and nodded .

He will make sure that the man will no longer do that to you again and other women...

#resident evil #blueyheartzposts #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x y/n

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sw33ts444 · 1 month

Text

frozen crown

pairing: prince!leon x fem!reader x knight!wesker

synopsis: this marriage was something you were not looking forward to. your kingdom was struggling to maintain afloat, so you, the eldest and most demure of all your sisters, were arranged to be married of to the crown prince of the most successful, powerful empire on the continent. having to leave behind your whole life, your native kingdom, and have to marry someone who was not the knight who had stolen your heart was quite possibly your worst nightmare. but... this was for the good of your people...

content warnings: very sexual content

wc: 3358

an: this series is the first that i've tried my hand at smut i'm NGL. has me nervie.

previous chapters: 1

2: arduous path

The journey north was a long and arduous one, and though your carriage was one of the more luxurious ones, the bumpy roads were still causing you immense amounts of discomfort. The carriage days spent riding were lonely, too. It was against social etiquette for your ladies-in-waiting to ride in the same carriage. Your only comfort was looking outside the carriage window, staring mainly at Wesker's broad back as he rode ahead. The scenery was slowly changing as you rode further and further north; from dead, yellowed grass from the southern warmth, to dead grey grass as they moved further into northern climates. Travelling in the dead of winter was terrible. Cold. It's been a couple weeks now, with still many more to go.

The nights, however, were far better. Your entourage had brought a luxurious tent befitting your status. It was much more comfortable in there; the oil lamps filled your tent with warmth and the multiple furs and blankets kept you from freezing to death. But the best thing was your nighttime visitor—Wesker. Every night he would come and warm your bed, warm your body with his, but never going beyond the boundaries you had placed. His passionate kisses and the desire that burned in your abdomen and soaked your undergarments was more than sufficient to stave off the cold. The first night he snuck in came as a complete surprise—it was incredibly risky for him to be coming into your tent at night. What if he was seen by the others? But his touch was so easy to give into. You were sure your night in the palace would be your last. Thank god you were wrong.

Aside from your nights of passion and love you had with Wesker, you enjoyed mealtimes. Sitting with your ladies-in-waiting was another piece of your travels that brought you comfort. Abigail, the daughter of a Marquis, was closest to you in age and perhaps the most spunky of your companions. She was loud but she was diligent, someone you considered a close friend. The second lady-in-waiting was Clarisse, recently married to Count Richard Alveston. She was stricter, more lady-like than Abigail, and her council was one you could always count on. She was like an older sister to you. Communing with them over dinner, bathing (although you pushed to bathe yourself since they were also tired, they insisted it was their duty until they left your side), was taking your mind off of the whole situation.

The days and nights bore on, the cold becoming more and more piercing the closer you got to your destination. But tonight would be different. Tonight you would be staying in an inn, finally having reached the outskirts of the empire. The carriages and horses were taken into the care of the inn's stablemaster as Wesker led you and your company into the cozy inn. The innkeeper looked astonished to see such a large amount of guests arriving all at once.

"Oh! Hello! We weren't expecting this many people," she gasped.

"Good evening, miss," you step forward to speak, "We're looking for food and board for a night for fourteen people."

"Ah, yes miss," Wesker stepped forward to correct the way you were addressed, but you put a hand out to stop him. The innkeeper looked nervously at his intimidating expression and build, but turned to you to continue speaking. "Lucky for you, we're pretty slow this time of the year, so we have lots of rooms available!" The plump, rosy-cheeked woman gave you a wide smile, "We're having cheddar broccoli soup tonight! Please, take a seat," she gestured towards the seating area before heading back to the kitchen.

You led the way to sitting at table with your ladies-in-waiting, the knights following suit and seating themselves in tables around you. Except Wesker. Ever so vigilant, he stood by your side, at full attention. "Please, sit, Wesker. You need to eat."

"Thank you, Your Highness, but I'll dine later." He responded, stiff as ever.

"Nonsense," you patted the spot next to you, "You'll only draw attention from the innkeeper like that." Wesker frowned, but followed your directions.

"Captain Wesker only ever listens to you, Your Highness!" Abigail smiled at you, "When we ask him for anything, he'll only do it when it's for you!" Clarisse gave her a piercing look.

You blushed a little at the statement and smiled. Wesker was sitting tensely beside you. He didn't like how casual this setting was, how casual the barmaid was being with you, it was clear. "I would hope he listened to me!" The knights seated at the table to your right were beginning to get loud, rowdy with the joy that they would be sleeping in a real bed. Wesker gave them a sharp look. The innkeeper and some of her help began to come out with bowls of soup for everyone, the knights almost immediately tearing into the bowls. You slowly stirred the creamy soup, taking in its delicious smells, yet you couldn't quite focus on your meal. "Do you think Lucy will be alright?" It was about the thousandth time you've asked that to your company.

"Of course," Clarisse reassured. "That girl is as strong and smart as she is stubborn. The other princesses won't have an easy time with her." You nodded, taking the first bite of your meal. Wesker hadn't touched his yet, he was simply staring down at his bowl. He'd been doing that a lot lately, staring off into space, distracted for seemingly no reason. You understood though.

"Are you going to eat that?" Abigail asked, pointing towards his soup, covering her mouth that still had broccoli in it. The inquiry snapped Wesker back to reality, his eyes shooting up to meet hers.

"Abbie!" Clarisse scolded, "Where are your manners! You are a lady-in-waiting for Her Highness, act like it!"

"I agree with Countess Alveston," Wesker's voice was low, "You represent Her Highness. Mind yourself." With that, he began to eat his soup.

"Please, I don't mind!" You smiled at Abbie, "No one knows I'm a princess here, so let's allow ourselves the space to relax!"

"Ohh thank you, Your Highness!" Abbie cried out in joy. Clarisse looked absolutely scandalised.

The rest of the evening passed without much incident. Everyone finished their bowls of soup, some asked for seconds and even thirds before they all groggily went off to their beds. Clarisse and Abbie had joined you to your room and bathed you before allowing you to rest alone.

The small room you were in was cozy, quaint. There wasn't much to the room; a small bed, a tiny table, and a dresser. There were oil lamps and a fireplace to help keep the room warm. You breathed in the wooden smell of the room; it was calming, the room was so different than what you were used to. If you focused hard enough you could almost trick yourself into thinking you were just going on a trip, a vacation.

Groggy, but not wanting to sleep just yet, you walked over to the window, gazing down at the stables below. To your surprise, Wesker was there. Basking in the moonlight. You opened your window to call out to him, but he seemed so lost in thought you couldn't bring yourself to. Instead, you took to resting your arms and head on the windowsill, having brought a chair over, and just simply watching him. Eventually, he would come up to your room. But it was still far too soon; many would not yet be actually asleep.

The gentle breeze that blew through the window, rustling the leaves of the pines that held steadfast in the cold, slowly lulled you into a deep sleep. When next you woke, Wesker had carried you to the bed, closed the window, and lit a small fire in the fireplace. Your eyes opened to the man you so loved laying beside you, propped up on one elbow as he stroked your hair. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," you broke the silence.

"What? Laying in bed?" He smirked. "I could think of better things we could be doing than just laying here." You gave him a reprimanding look, in which he responded with a peck on your lips.

"No, you pervert, I mean spending time together, like this. Imagine this quaint room was our little cabin in the woods," you sighed wistfully, grabbing his hand and playing with his fingers. "We would make our living off lumber, making enough to feed ourselves and maybe even a little family. Just us, in our own little world." Wesker stayed silent as you rambled. But you knew he shared these sentiments. "...Should we elope?" You looked him in the eyes.

His silence continued for a moment longer as he struggled to respond. "If I said yes, would you?" Biting your lip, you looked away. He sighed, "I know you, dearheart. This deal, this arranged marriage, is far too important for your family, for our homeland."

"I wish... I wish things were different," you breathed. You'd grieved enough over your situation, and by this point your eyes seem to have run dry of any tears you could produce. The lump in your throat never seemed to dissipate though. "But, who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and get to keep you as my guard," a wistful smile rested on your lips as you brought your eyes back to his.

"But things would never be the same," his tone was cold, this sentence holding all the truth that you didn't want to come to terms with. You rolled over on top of Wesker, who hardly seemed surprised by this action, and you bent down to kiss him, hard. You didn't want to think anymore. All you wanted in your mind was Wesker, his kisses, his touch, his skin on yours.

The nights passed by in similar fashion as you approached the capital. Whether it was in inns or your tent, every night you'd explore almost every inch of Wesker's body. You knew every part of his body, except his cock. But boy, did you want it. Despite your insistence on never going beyond what your undergarments hid, you'd taken to grinding down and getting off on his bulge. The way his hard-on rubbed against your clothed clit drove you crazy, left you wanting more on a deeper, carnal level. Wesker was left feeling the same way, each night you took to dry humping, his abdomen would wind up covered in both his own pre and cum. Whilst his underwear would be covered in your juices. The way he looked after your little sessions, flushed, eyes darkened with lust, tip poking out of his underwear, made you want to feel him stretch out your walls, feel his cock buried so deep within you, and have him fuck you so hard that he leaves you raw.

There's even been days where you would opt for masturbating in front of him, with your panties on, as if it made any difference. You'd finger-fuck yourself, imagining it was his dick that your wet little hole was clenching around, as you watched him stroke himself. And after you finished, sometimes you'd stick your fingers in his mouth, letting him suck and lick every bit of your juices off to get a little taste. But the tender nights together are coming to an end as you and your entourage have finally arrived in the capital.

The sights of the capital robbed you of your breath as you looked out of the window of your carriage. The buildings were so tall, so large, and the architecture was like pure art. Each pillar, doorway, trim, every part of every building was made as if they were a sculptor's magnum opus. The snow that slowly drifted down covered bushes and pines and rooves and made the scene look all the more fantastical. There were wreathes on the doors of restaurants, stores, inns, and other places of business. The streets were bustling, full of curious rich commoners and nobility, staring and whispering at the carriages as they shopped and went about their business. The holidays were right around the corner and the air was thick with merriment and joy—but all the awe and amazement and contagious happiness that was fluttering around in your stomach ceased when the palace came into view. And was instead replaced with dread.

It felt like the end of the world when you stepped down from your carriage. A pit of anxiety and fear and anger and so many different emotions ravaged your stomach. But as a princess, it was second nature to not let it show. There were hundreds of staff standing bowed in welcoming, which was intimidating enough by itself. But the palace that you've arrived at surpassed the staff in their intimidation factor. It was massive, with multiple buildings, floor-to-ceiling windows, stained glass, giant pillars; it was jaw-dropping. As you did your best to stay calm, taking in the sights of the palace, a tall, grey-haired man stepped forward and grabbed your attention.

He bowed, "Welcome, Your Highness. My name is Alfred, His Majesty's attendant and aide. I've come to guide you to the council chambers to speak with His Majesty before I show you to your room."

"Thank you, Alfred." He bowed, and you gestured for him to lead the way. Wesker and your ladies-in-waiting quickly fell into step behind you, the other knights trailing in two organized single-file lines as everyone made their way through the palace. While you walked, you took in your surroundings, doing your best to not seem shocked by the sheer extravagance of the palace. The ceilings were high, painted cherubs and angels smiling down and dancing amongst clouds. The trim of every doorway, ceiling, and floor was lined with gold, even the marble floors had hints of gold.

God, did everything have to have gold? You thought a little bitterly. Perhaps this palace was just to make a show of the Northern Empire's wealth, to intimidate delegates and visits from smaller kingdoms and countries like your own. Or perhaps you were looking for some small outlet for the emotions you had to keep silent under a mask of calm. A couple of servants dragged the heavy oaken doors of the reception chambers open once you finally arrived in front of them. The chambers were what you'd expect, with a regal red carpet leading to the door, seats on both sides for when nobility must attend receptions, and at the end of the room were steps leading up to three tall, imposing chairs where the royal figures sat. Knights were stationed in entrances to the room and to the sides of the royalty observing you and your entourage.

The aide led you to near the foot of your stairs, where you curtsied, your ladies-in-waiting joining you as the knights took a knee. "Greetings to the Sun, Moon, and Star of the Empire. May Glory shine down upon the Empire for all eternity."

"You may rise," The emperor stated, his voice was deep and authoritative, fitting for a ruler. You obeyed and stood, getting a good look at the Northern Empire's royalty. His Majesty was getting on in years, with a salt and pepper beard and greys growing from his temples, slicked back and tucked beneath a heavy golden crown, laden with diamonds. His attire was decked out with all the expensive silks and golds and intricate patterns one might expect the royal family to wear, but the tight fit of his clothes revealed a hidden tone of muscle. The empress was a lot warmer and kinder looking than he was. She wore an extravagant purple gown made of beautiful tulle and it was covered in all sorts of different gemstones, glimmering brightly at the slightest movement.

And the crown prince, your intended, was dressed in a similar extravagant fashion, though quite a bit more toned down. What caught your eye though was not his clothes, but his striking blue eyes. He was not bad to look at, on the contrary he was incredibly handsome. So handsome that his face alone, ignoring his status, would making him the most eligible bachelor in the Empire.

"Welcome to the Northern Empire, Princess. We've waited for the day of your arrival eagerly," the emperor gave you a welcoming smile. "We've heard of your accomplishments in the Southern Kingdom and we're all eager to see what you can do here in the Empire, with so many new tools at your disposal."

"Thank you for the praise, Your Majesty," you bowed a little as a gesture in gratitude, "but all I've done was work for my people. I hope I can live up to your expectations and do good by the people here in the Empire."

"Beautiful and humble!" The empress finally spoke. "I knew you would be the best choice!" You hid a grimace at her choice in words. You knew you specifically were chosen for your exploits in your homeland. "We saw records of the different foundations you did for peasants and the poor, helping children and the ill. Your efforts in increasing crop yield during harvesting season were impressive as well!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty. But the truth is, my efforts were not enough. My family and I are eternally grateful and in your debt for your assistance, and I will do my best to assist the Empire in any way I can." The empress smiled down at you. It felt unpleasant, having to bend so far for these people whom you hardly knew. You were determined to help your kingdom, but the price of your whole life and future really soured your whole efforts, making it feel a lot less like your honour-bound duty and more of a death sentence.

"Well then," the emperor looked over to his son, who made no movement to speak, "I believe that is enough pleasantries. We shall see you again tomorrow. I assume you are all tired from your travels. We have rooms ready for you and yours, Alfred will lead everyone to the right places and dinner will be served in your chambers. Tomorrow, we shall begin to dine together. Please, Princess, make yourself comfortable." After bowing and thanking the Imperial family once more, Alfred led you all out of the room. Before you turned, you managed to sneak one last glance at the prince. And as you made eye contact with him, it occured to you that you don't even know his name.

Once Alfred had the knights led to the barracks elsewhere, including Wesker much to your dismay, he deposited you in your own chambers. He'd apologised for the size—though it was ginormous—and promised you better habitations once you wed. As he left with your ladies-in-waiting, other maids came in, not giving you a second to breathe as they whisked you away to the bathing chambers of the room. They lathered you in expensive smelling soaps and oils, thoroughly massaging your body that was sore from sitting in a carriage for so long. And once they finally left, you were finally given time to relax. The chambers felt like the size of a large cabin. There were dressers that you didn't care to explore, sofas, coffee tables, a chess table, a large fireplace, a tea-preparation area, and even a terrace for your enjoyment. But all that mattered to you was that luxurious bed. Throwing yourself onto the bed, landing with a whump, made the new reality feel all the more damning. It was finally hitting you. You're in the Imperial palace. You've seen your future husband. And soon, you'll have to say goodbye to the knights, Clarisse, Abbie, and most important of all, Wesker. As your heavy eyes fluttered closed, all you could think about was how much you'd miss his warm embrace. Your journey north has ended, and yet it somehow feels like you've just embarked on an even more arduous one yet.

please don't rewrite, repost, translate, or submit my work to ai 💜

taglist: ask to join:)

#leon kennedy #albert wesker #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil au #me when the residents are evil #albert whiskers #albert wesker smut

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

Resident Evil 4 Master List

Leon S. Kennedy

Drabbles- Protecting You (04/03/23)

Kintober Series- Day Fourteen (10/14/23)

The Spaniard & The American (11/27/23)

Christmas Stories- Day Twenty-One (12/21/23)

Kinktober Series- Day Twenty-Six (10/26/24)

Ada Wong

Kintober Series- Day Twenty-One (10/21/23)

Albert Wesker

Drabbles- Pity Her (02/28/23)

Kintober Series- Day Twenty-Seven (10/27/23)

Kinktober Series- Day Seventeen (10/17/24)

Luis Sera

The Spaniard & The American (11/27/23)

Christmas Stories- Day Twelve (12/12/23)

Resi 4 All Together

Drabbles- New Year Kiss (01/04/24)

Drabbles- Body Talk (02/04/24)

Resi 4 Tags-

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aceviscontiswife · 11 months

Note

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! ❤️

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alespov · 7 months

Text

[Taking their kids trick or treating. ]

Tw: none!

Featuring: Wesker and Leon { will make another part for other characters soon :) }

A\N : Hope y’all enjoy <3 feedback is highly appreciated! Requests are open :)) not proofread

Halloween masterlist

Leon :

- this was Leon’s favorite time of year. He loved everything Halloween. So he volunteered to take your kids trick or treating. So you could have some time to yourself. He picked out matching costumes from him and his girls.

- He got them bluey and bingo, he went as bandit. He wanted to make Halloween special for them. While they were young, he hoped to be a cool dad. Which you always tell him that he is.

- he didn’t keep them out so late, but between the both of them. They both had full buckets of candy. You were impressed.

- If there’s a scary decoration, he would avoid that house or he would carry them. They were still young enough to be scared of some stuff, but it wasn’t a problem for Leon. He would do anything to protect his girls.

- he always made sure the girls minded their manners. He’s knew they would get tired, so he brought a wagon so he pull them around in. He had a throw blanket, so they could cover up if they got cold.

///

The girls came running in and found you in the tv room. You were curled up with a fuzzy blanket, a good book and a glass of wine. While wearing Leon’s oversized shirt.

“Did you have fun with dad?” You asked excitedly while they climbed to sit with you on the couch. They shook their heads yes and proceeded to tell you everything that happened.

A few minutes later, Leon came in with their buckets and candy. He walked toward the couch and leaned down the kiss you on the forehead. You giggled at him because he was still in his costume.

"What's got you laughing?" He asked, a puzzled expression dancing across his face. Your laughter only intensified at his genuine bewilderment, "It's just that you're still decked out in your costume." His eyes followed your gaze downward, and a surge of understanding struck him. Hastily unzipping the outfit, he discarded it, leaving him clad in his usual ensemble of shirt and sweats.

“Want them check their candy with me?” He asked while pulling you up with him. He kissed your forehead and placed his head against yours.

“Let’s put them bed first.” You told him. He picked them both up and all of you walked upstairs to get them ready for bed. After getting them to fall asleep, you and Leon decided to check their candy. You didn’t believe you would find anything wrong. You had thought Leon just wanted his dad tax.

Albert Wesker

- he preferably didn’t like accepting candy from strangers. But for the sake of his daughter he would do it.

- he never got to experience trick or treating when he was younger. But he knew he wanted to take his daughter trick or treating. He didn’t think he would enjoy going, but he actually liked going. He thought it would be more crowded, but it truly wasn’t.

- He parked his car, and the three of you walked around. You had to find a neighborhood since you lived in the middle of nowhere.

- For the most part of trick or treating, he carried her on his shoulders. Just because she was tired of walking. Or she held his hand, and skipped alongside him.

- You and your daughter had corresponding outfits on. You couldn’t get Albert dress up, which was fine. You knew he wouldn’t do it anyway.

- Albert wanted to stay out til the end of trick or treating, just because the three of you were having fun.

///

“Do we have to walk back through there?” Your daughter asked as she reached up for Albert to pick her up.

"Regrettably, we do," he grumbled, casting a weary glance in your direction. Raccoon City annually transforms into a captivating realm of enchantment with its renowned "haunted corn maze." This year, the organizers boldly decided to establish it right at the heart of town, rendering navigation through the area a difficult task. Your home was nestled amidst the serenity of the countryside,which means you had to drive in search of trick-or-treating locations.

“Don't worry, darling, everything will be alright. Your dad and I are right here with you,” you soothingly reassured your little one. Her eyes lit up with a glimmer of relief as she snuggled her face comfortably into her father's warm embrace. You were acutely aware that the maze had surprises waiting to pop out and startle everyone. That's precisely why you wanted to navigate through it swiftly, hoping to save Albert from losing his cool at the unexpected scares.

As Albert carefully cradled your daughter in his arms, you valiantly lugged her hefty candy bucket. Sweat beaded on your brow as you tried to keep pace with Albert, who grumbled under his breath about the nonsensical maze constructed by the "fools of this town" and their frivolous use of funds. You recognized that he was biting his tongue, doing his best not to frighten your little girl with his true thoughts.

“C’mon dearheart, we must hurry. We’re also there.” Albert called to you, he wasn’t so far ahead of you. You answered him and jogged a bit quicker.

You saw the parking ahead and thought you had made it through, without anyone jumping out of you. You checked your watch real quick, to keep an eye on time, only to discover it was bedtime soon. Relief began to wash over you, and you were planning the rest of your evening with Albert, until the shrill cry broke you out of your daydream.

The relief was replaced with dread as you hurried to your family. You were really running to your husband’s aid, so he didn’t blow a gasket.

You made it over there, and your husband was trying to diffuse your daughter’s crying. After promptly telling the scare actor to leave. You sat the bucket down and reached from your daughter, trying to soothe her.

He grabbed her bucket, and the both of you hurried to the car. Hoping to enjoy the rest of the Halloween night.

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wil-o-wispy · 3 months

Text

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 2

Chris Redfield x FM! Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here) | Part 3 | Part 4

Synopsis: It's the morning after Chris Redfield took care of you and things are oddly... domestic?

Includes: MDNI - NSFW, fluff, banter, angst, oral (FM reader receiving), porn with plot, use of pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, baby, gorgeous), minor reader injury from previous part, reference to drinking in the previous part. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' otherwise. Reader is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

A/N: WOO this took so long to get out. I can't write linearly to save my life and my writer brain wanted to work on plot stuff taking place after this chapter. On the bright side the next few parts should get done quicker. Hopefully. This is also my first spicy writing thing so have fun!

wc: 6.5k+

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is the pounding headache behind your eyes and a throbbing in your foot. You lift an arm over your face and groan, the cheery brightness of the morning sun still too much for your blurry eyes to properly accommodate to. For a few precious minutes, you just lay in bed trying to string together a coherent thought other than, ‘I’m never drinking whiskey again,’ because you know that promise won’t last the month.

Then it all comes back to you. The almost-bar fight. Chris driving you home. The broken glass. Chris comforting you. Bits and pieces of the previous night stitch themselves together and you are both relieved and embarrassed of its events.

It feels like a monumental weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sure, the dirty looks would stay along with your reputation, but Chris Redfield doesn’t think you’re a monster. However, the relief is almost overshadowed by a creeping sense of embarrassment. You never show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone. Not even Albert after the Mansion incident.

Despite the conflicting feelings, you’re thankful that Chris had the foresight to put you into your bed and tuck you in. Everything after crawling into Chris’ lap and crying your eyes out is hazy due to your alcohol consumption, but you do have a distinct memory of being lifted off the ground and carried by a pair of strong, warm and comforting arms past a broom propped up on the doorway to the kitchen.

The broom. The glass. Your foot. There’s still blood and glass in the foyer that you have to clean up.

With a groan, you roll out of bed, stretching to relieve some of the tightness in your muscles that accompanies a bad hangover. It’s at this point you realize you’re wearing a sweatshirt that you hadn’t worn the night before. Your heart stops in your chest until you lift the hem of it and see you’re still wearing the nice shirt you wore to your D.S.O. interview the day before.

Chris. Always the gentleman.

You take stock of what you’re wearing; oversized sweatshirt, nice shirt, nice pants, no socks, but a sizeable amount of gauze is on one foot. While you take stock of yourself and your surroundings, you also notice a couple aspirin and a sports drink on your bedside table that you know you didn’t have in the house last night. Chris cared both about your comfort and boundaries while intoxicated, as well as the aftermath of it. He even went out and bought you items to help with your hangover.

Another event to add to the overflowing list of reasons why you don’t deserve him.

Or do you? He doesn’t fault you for your dead husband’s actions. He goes to bat for you when the B.S.A.A., D.S.O., or any other anti-bioterrorism organization is up your ass. He listens when you need to vent and drink your sorrows away. He’s kind. He’s considerate. He’s a good man. He’s everything that Albert wasn’t.

Stop it.

You pop the aspirin in your mouth and wash it down with the sports drink, dismissing any other thoughts on how good Chris had been to you. Things in your life were already too complicated. No use in entertaining far-fetched fantasies. He’s got to be this considerate with anyone, right? You couldn’t recall a specific instance comparable to last night that would justify that thought, but you try to think of one as you strip off the clothes from the night before and throw on some clean loungewear. You opt to wear some sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

As you get dressed, you rediscover an offer letter that you’d forgotten to reject. Even though your last name gave you a reputation, numerous branches of the B.S.A.A. requested your transfer every year due to your expertise in bioweapons research. After all, who would be better at combatting these threats than someone who witnessed their creation and aftermath? This one was more tempting than most; an offer to work in B.S.A.A. Europe HQ in Germany, Head Researcher position, fully furnished apartment included and competitive salary.

You crumple the offer letter and toss it in the trash. Tempting, but stability is on the top of your list of priorities at the moment. An international move is the opposite of that. You go into your bathroom attached to your bedroom and do your morning routine, opting to worry about a shower later.

You go out into the hallway, hobbling a bit with the injured foot but staying upright without trouble. The aspirin is starting to kick in and you’re already feeling a bit better. You make a list in your head of things to get done before burying yourself in blankets on the couch; sweep up the glass, mop the foyer of the remaining blood, take a shower, make a greasy breakfast, binge watch something.

Your mental list is interrupted by sounds coming from your kitchen. Confused, you turn down the hall and see Chris’ car keys still on the table in the entryway. You also see the floor is devoid of glass, blood, and the medical supplies from the night before.

Chris hears you pad into the kitchen and flashes his signature grin as he turns bacon on your stove with a fork. There’s a plate with finished bacon pieces on a paper towel next to the stove, as well as two plates with toast.

“Morning Doc.”

“Morning. You stayed the night?” Your tone is cordial. It’s not accusatory because, oddly enough, you don’t mind Chris sleeping over. At any point before last night, you would have been miffed and probably would have given a speech arguing you could take care of yourself and that he had a lot of nerve spending the night considering your history. But Chris making you breakfast still stirs up that guilt of him doing more nice things for you to add on to the laundry list of favors he’d done for you over the years. But you can’t deny the smell of what he’s cooking makes your mouth water.

“Yeah, I took the couch. You had a lot to drink. I just wanted to make sure you woke up okay.”

You snort. “Right. You sure you weren’t just avoiding having to sleep in the barracks last night?”

Chris chuckles at your joke and holds his hands up in playful surrender. “You got me. Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”

You return the smile and hobble next to Chris by the stove, leaning on the counter next to him just watching him cook. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on the food, and not to stare at Chris’ battle toned forearms for too long.

“Now I can accept you making sure I don’t choke on my own vomit, but this-” You gesture to the stove and the entryway, “-is crossing the line. You’re in my house. I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around.”

“What? I can’t treat my host to breakfast and a cleaner house?” He’s still jovial when turns his attention back to the stove and turns the bacon.

“That’s reverse hospitality,” You quip.

“Then consider me a reverse guest,” Chris answers.

You let out an exasperated sigh and your body slumps. “Chris, seriously you didn’t have to do all that-”

“I wanted to.” Chris stops looking at the bacon in the pan and looks you in the eyes.

You two stare at each other in silence, gazes locked in a battle of wills.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Chris says softly, with a hint of authority in his tone.

“I know that.” You bite back, challenging him.

Chris raises an eyebrow, and you see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you?”

More silence. You let out another sigh and you break from his gaze to stare at the floor instead.

“You’ve already done more for me than I could ever hope to repay. I don’t need to owe you more favors for something like last night.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Bullshit.” You look back up at him in disbelief; mouth open and eyebrows knitted together.

“No bullshit. I’m serious.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but Chris shushes you and places a cup of hot tea in your hands before you can protest. You didn’t even notice it sitting next to the stove. You feel the comforting warmth of his fingers ghost over yours as he guides your hand to take hold of the mug handle.

“No bullshit, you have my word. Now sit down, rest that foot, enjoy your drink, and let me handle everything else.”

You open and close your mouth, trying to articulate a response. There’s not much you can say to argue against that, especially when his gentle touch is making your brain go haywire. The captain is a man of his word. Those perceptive eyes of his hold no hint of deception, only genuine kindness like you saw the night before. Not to mention there’s something undeniably attractive about him wanting to take care of you in such a gentle, authoritative manner. You relent and take a sip of tea trying to calm your racing heart.

“Thanks.”

Chris’ face lights up and he flashes another smile. “Thatta girl. How do you like your eggs?”

You try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when he says that. “I’m not picky, however you’re having them.” You push yourself off the counter, snatch a piece of bacon from the plate and hobble over to the barstool sitting area at the kitchen island behind Chris.

“Save some for your meal.” You hear Chris smiling as he says that.

“I’m making sure it’s crispy enough. Sue me.”

Your conversation goes on in that comfortable rhythm all throughout breakfast; casual conversation with witty remarks thrown in followed by a joke that starts the cycle all over again. Chris sits on the stool next to you, and you both enjoy the two plates of toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon that Chris had made.

“You’re going to spoil me at this rate.” You say with a grin.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It kind of is. You’re going to make me miss having you around to clean up my messes and make me food.” You eat your toast, keeping up the playful banter.

“And what if I am?” The way Chris says that doesn’t make it sound like he’s joking, but you brush it off and roll your eyes, munching on the last of your bacon. “I’d call your bluff.”

“Why do you think it’s a bluff?”

You sit there just looking at your fork for a beat, trying to think of the best way to phrase your thoughts. You can’t think of anything, but you turn your gaze back to Chris and answer him with a question. “Because why would you care if I miss you?”

“Because who wouldn’t want the attention of a woman like you?” Chris’ expression shifts from that kind expression you’re used to, to a more wistful and romantic one.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart races in your chest. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “People with half a brain and a shred of common sense.” The statement is said with your signature dry sense of humor, but there’s also an edge of something akin to a warning. It doesn’t deter Chris in the slightest.

“Ouch. At least I’ve got my looks going for me,” he quips with a smirk. It amazes you that he’s still joking about something you think is so serious. It makes you want to wipe that sexy smile right off his face. Whether it’s with a kiss or sharp words is still up for debate.

“Chris-” You warn sharply.

“Doc-” Chris says, pleadingly.

“No. It’s a bad idea. End of story.” Your tone comes out much gentler than you intend. You pick at the last of your food, not wanting to look at Chris and betray your true feelings that you’ve tried so hard to suppress over the years. He killed your husband. Your evil, narcissistic, psychopathic husband. Despite who Albert was, it felt like you would cross some sort of moral boundary you couldn’t come back from if you indulged in those thoughts. But the longer Chris looks at you with that wanting gaze, the less imposing that boundary becomes.

“You know me. I love bad ideas.” As Chris speaks in a low, romantic tone, your mind runs wild and your cheeks flush red with all the possible interpretations of his words.

You hear the barstool next to you squeak, Chris’ hand comes into your vision, rests delicately on your cheek, and tilts your head back towards him. His face is dangerously close to yours. You see every detail of his face; his dark hazel eyes, the small mole under his right eye, the stubble on his jaw, the subtle hair growth around his mouth and chin, and finally his lips.

You don’t know who leans in first, but one moment you’re committing Chris’ face to memory, and the next your lips are against his. Your eyes close and time stops. The kiss is slow, methodical and fills you with a pleasant warmth that makes your stomach flip and heart skip a beat.

You can’t remember the last time you had a kiss like this, and you don’t want to. All you want to do in this moment is experience everything Chris has to offer. Everything.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you both finally break for air. You breathe in a shaky breath. Shaky from how weak in the knees the kiss made you, as well as nervous energy from crossing that boundary you’d made for yourself. You just kissed the man who killed your husband and you liked it. Not only that, but that kiss stirred something lustful inside you that makes you want even more.

“Look at me pretty girl.” Chris whispers. His hand still holds the side of your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You open your eyes, and you see Chris smiling at you. It falters and switches into something much more concerned when he sees your conflicted look.

“We can stop if you want to. I can leave and we can agree this never happened if that’s what you want.” You can feel his hot breath on your face as he murmurs in a low tone.

Maybe it’s the residual feeling of safety due to the events of the night before, an accumulation of repressed want from years working alongside each other, or maybe it’s just the need to feel someone else’s loving embrace. Morality be damned. Maybe it’s the pounding of your heart drowning out all common sense, but you crave the man in front of you more than anything in the universe right now. Your next words come out in a wanting murmur.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

This time, it’s you that leans back in to kiss Chris’ incredulous expression, but he immediately melts back into your lips. Once it’s established that this is something you’re craving, Chris earnestly returns the enthusiasm. Sweet kisses morph into fervent tastes for more as your lips intertwine with Chris’. Tongues dance in a teasing duel for dominance that you are all too happy to lose just so you can feel how eager Chris is to feast on your sighs of pleasure. Bask in your shivers of ecstasy. Relish in your desperate pants for oxygen from him taking your breath away.

The only thing you can even comprehend with his inviting tongue intertwining with yours is that it’s not enough. You want more. You need more. More of his warmth, more of his lips, more of him. The heat that Chris awoke in you has grown from mere embers to a growing, starving flame that wants to savor and devour everything that’s yet to come.

It doesn’t take long to know Chris feels the exact same way. Committing your pleasure to memory with his hands and lips won’t do. With how far you were leaning into his embrace, you were halfway to touching his lap already, but Chris eagerly expediates the process. His hands abandon your cheek and neck to claim your hips and guide you to sit on his lap where you belong. You take a sharp intake of breath and clutch Chris’ shoulders for balance from the change in position, but Chris is quick to soothe your concerns while keeping his lips on any inch of your skin he can reach.

“Don’t worry baby I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

You reposition yourself on his lap so you feel more secure in Chris’ grasp, but you accidentally grind against his crotch. A deep groan is released from Chris’ lips and he kisses your skin with more fervor. Being positioned the way you are on his lap, it’s difficult not to notice the growing hardness underneath his jeans.

“All that for me?” You try to be sultry, but don’t do a good job of it because you can barely get any discernible words out with how hard you’re breathing.

“Have you seen yourself sweetheart?” Chris leaves wet kisses from your collarbone to your neck, then captures your lips in a ravenous kiss. “Fucking gorgeous with your cheeks all red like that…”

Chris lifts you up off his lap effortlessly and you gasp and hold onto his shoulders as he places you on the counter in front of him. Once you’re secure, his hands are quick to wander and caress everything he can reach; from your hips, to your ass, to your thighs, then hips, then ribs, lower back then repeating the pathing again. Eagerness and patience are at war with each other as he alternates between greedily clutching each soft feature and methodically caressing every one of your curves as if trying to commit them to memory.

You’re breathing heavily when he rips his lips away from yours and starts kissing you down your jaw to your throat. He feverishly leaves open mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin tenderly yet enthusiastically. You can tell he’s savoring every part of you, clearly eager to do more but wanting to enjoy every detail of your physique first. It takes no time at all for him to find the spots that make you squirm and pant in his embrace. When his teeth lightly graze your pulse point, your legs reflexively tighten around his waist, but you accidentally bump the barstool behind Chris with your injured foot with a loud clunk and curse. The throbbing in your foot is back with full force, making you wince. Worse, Chris pulls away from your neck and stares at you intensely with a worried look. Slightly flushed cheeks and labored breath.

“You alright?” He looks behind him and sees the scene of the crime, and lightly scoots the barstool a safe distance away with his foot. Chris moves to lean down and examine your foot, but you’re quick to grasp his face and lovingly bring it back to yours. You kiss Chris’ cheek and give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You lean back in to kiss Chris, ignoring the shooting pain from your injured foot and getting lost in the intoxicating taste of his lips. Chris’ worried expression melts away somewhat, but he still speaks lowly between breaks for air.

“You need to rest that foot on something.”

“Later,” You whisper, going back in to capture his lips again.

The captain slides one of his large, calloused hands on the back of your head and strokes the hair there, and you think you’ve convinced him to drop the subject. Oh how wrong you are.

In one moment, you’re getting lost in the feeling of Chris’ hands on the back of your head and shoulders, and the next Chris has pushed your plates to the side and laid you swiftly, but gently, on your back.

“Chris!” You whine as you try to sit up, but you’re stopped by a large hand putting weight on your ribcage and fleeting kisses down your neck and chest. His voice is muffled from how close his face is to your trembling body, but you hear him speak in that authoritative, husky voice again as he continues to kiss further down your chest. “Uh uh, you stay put.” You’re about to protest the change in position, wanting nothing more than to keep Chris’ lips on yours, but his lips on your inner thigh make your words die in your throat. Chris lightly sucks the area while his darkening gaze is honed in on your face.

“I meant it when I said you need to rest that foot…” Chris places another lingering kiss on your inner thigh slightly closer to your aching core. “…so be a good girl and put those pretty thighs over my shoulders.”

The effects of his words are immediate; blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that you feel lightheaded, the heat in your abdomen that was kindled by his touch burns hotter, and your lips part in silent shock and anticipation of what he’ll do next. For once, your brain has short circuited, and you don’t have anything to say. All you can do is gape and nod as you hook your knee with the injured foot over his shoulder.

“Good. Now I want you to relax and let me take care of you. Okay?” The low vibrating timbre of his voice is so close to your aching clit that you arch your back and whine, nodding.

Chris continues to be a paradox of patience and eagerness as he coaxes more and more delicious sounds from you. His large hands greedily grasp the flesh of your hips and thighs, but don’t grope close enough to give you the stimulation you crave. His mouth worships the space between your thigh and groin but never dares venture further than the rolled-up edge of your night shorts where you’re clenching around nothing. He never stimulates what is begging to be loved underneath despite how much both of you crave it.

“Chris…please.” You beg, eyes clouded over with lust and need.

“Hmmmm… I don’t hear you say that a lot.” You can practically hear the shit eating smile in his voice as Chris keeps kissing you the same way as before, but one of his fingers teasingly traces the hem of your shorts. He’s right. You don’t. That little comment would infuriate you if the wetness between your thighs and throbbing clit weren’t on the top of the list of things on your mind right now. If you have to say please to get Chris to take care of you, you’ll relent and do it.

“Please just to-oooh!” Your desperate request is cut short by a moan being released from the back of your throat.

Chris keeps kissing the sensitive spots between your thighs, but two of his fingers have slipped under the edge of your shorts by the groin and is lightly rubbing the fabric over your engorged bundle of nerves. He experiments with different speeds and pressures until he finds the ones that make your back arch, eyes roll to the back of your head, and thighs close around his face. Just when you’re bucking your hips into his hand and you feel your pleasure building, you feel his fingers retreat.

“Chris!” You whine, body relaxing back into the counter but desperate for more of his touch.

“I know baby, I’ll take care of it.” Chris assures you as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your shorts and underwear, pulling them to one side then practically diving into your dripping folds. His mouth is greedy when he’s finally between your thighs where you want him to be. Chris’ tongue laves at your entrance with long, languid strokes at first, but quickly devolves into him thrusting his tongue into your cunt so deeply that his nose is bumping your clit with each plunge of his tongue and you writhing and panting in pleasure as your climax quickly builds back to where Chris’ fingers left off.

He tries to be patient and draw it out for your sake, he really does, but you taste too good. Your moans and whimpers of ecstasy sound too pretty. The way you’re grabbing his forearm arm that’s caging your hips to the counter for dear life that so obviously signals how close you are is the biggest turn on. His mouth gorges on your release and he swears it’s his new favorite meal.

That starving flame in your abdomen that Chris has been feeding this whole time is so close to overtaking you, but you need more and Chris can sense this in how you tremble around him and desperate cries of his name tumble from your lips. He replaces his tongue with one of his fingers and he keeps up the same speed and intensity while his lips latch on to your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and tongue making purposeful, salacious strokes that makes your face contort in delight.

You fall apart in mere moments. Your back arches as you feel your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. You cling to Chris’ forearm as you ride out the powerful sensation. Even with your thighs closing in around his head, his lips don’t let up their assault on your clit until you’re bordering on being overstimulated and trying to push his head away. Your thighs twitch from the aftermath, your cunt and clit throb from the greedy attention of Chris’ lovemaking, and you’re pretty sure you have breadcrumbs in your hair from the toast in the long forgotten breakfast that was made for you.

Even with all of that, it still leaves you with a warm, comfortable sense of pleasure and a blissfully hazy mind.

Chris gently laps up the mess between your folds with his tongue, both determined not to let a drop of you go to waste as well as to prolong your pleasure while you come back down to Earth. With a final quick kiss to your clit that makes your hips twitch into his mouth, Chris tenderly moves the crotch of your panties and shorts back over your pelvis. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe your release from his chin, and licks his finger clean.

You feel boneless when he sits you up. You’re breathing is shallow, but slowly returning to normal when Chris brings you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and lazily wrap your arms around his waist. His hand is under your shirt at your lower back, hand pressed against your spine and rubbing the area firmly while his other hand cradles your head at the back of your neck. For the first time in what feels like years, you feel wanted and loved. The warmth of his hands and arms as well as his breath in your ear feels so addicting. You don’t want him to let go.

“You still with me gorgeous?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumble, smiling into Chris’ neck as he cuddles you. A deep chuckle vibrates in Chris’ chest, and he plants a soft kiss on your temple. Then another one on your cheekbone. Then another next to your ear…

You giggle and close your eyes, “Someone’s eager.”

“Hard not to be with such a beautiful woman in front of me.”

After a few more kisses Chris gently moves you off his shoulder so you can sit up and look at him with half lidded eyes. For a moment you just sit there blinking slowly at him relishing in his embrace, and he’s just smiling at your fucked out expression. His hand slides from the back of your next to your cheek. He rubs the skin there with his thumb for a moment, then leans in to kiss you properly.

Just when Chris is a breath away from tasting your lips, a jarring ringtone cracks through the air and brings you back to reality. It’s Chris’ phone, but he doesn’t make a move to answer it. He only pauses at the first ring and captures your lips in a sweet kiss on the second.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“They’ll call back if it’s important.” Chris murmurs against your lips and goes back in for more, seemingly drunk off the taste of you and your affection as you chuckle and kiss him back. After a few more seconds, the phone stops ringing only for it to resume again almost immediately after.

“I guess it’s important.” You sigh against Chris’ lips when you reluctantly pull away. Chris lets out a frustrated breath and pulls back, still not making a move to answer the call. His gaze darts from your eyes to your lips like he’s thinking about ignoring it again. You know better. The captain is a busy and well-respected man. You’ll be damned if that gets ruined because he can’t keep his hands off you. You smile sympathetically at him and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll clean up while you take care of that.” You move to get off the counter, but Chris’ strong hands at your hips stop you.

“I told you that you need to rest your foot.”

“You can convince me to elevate it again after you deal with that soldier boy. But until then-” You lean to the side to grab Chris’ phone, remove his hand from your hip, then plop the phone in his palm. “-duty calls.” You reply cheekily, giving the speechless captain a smirk before lowering yourself off the counter to collect the plates.

Chris shakes his head, smiles, presses a button on his phone and lifts it to his ear. “Hello?” You turn on the sink and begin washing the plates. You hear Chris reply in a more serious tone, and turn out of the kitchen to take the call in the living room. “Yeah, this is Captain Redfield.” Over the sound of the water you can’t hear who’s on the other end, but you can gather this is a serious conversation. You just hope it isn’t notifying Chris of a new outbreak, or something else that would require his immediate attention. You’d hate for it to disrupt such a pleasurable morning.

After you finish washing the plates, you turn off the tap and begin drying them. The speaker on Chris’ phone isn’t loud by any means, but in the silence of your little house you can clearly hear the conversation in the living room from your kitchen sink. And on the other end of the call, you hear a familiar, grating voice.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s the D.S.O. agent from your interview the day before. From the sound of it, the agent still had a stick up his ass and seemed to be grilling Chris with the same intensity he was questioning you. You can make out the tinny voice of the D.S.O. agent, clearly not liking Chris’ answers. “You want to know what I think captain? I think you’ve been soft on her.”

You can hear the scowl in Chris’ voice when he answers the agent with the same level of disdain while also remaining professional. “And I think you’re being harsh because you’re trying to see things that aren’t there. Aren’t government agents supposed to practice due process? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Her husband almost destroyed the world. You really expect me to just take her word that she didn’t help?”

“She has been nothing but cooperative since then. Every bit of information she’s given the B.S.A.A. has checked out. Plus, her work after the fact has prevented more outbreaks than I’m cleared to talk about. There is no reason to suspect her of bioterrorism.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call, then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well captain I called to inform you that I need to bring in a third party to verify your claims. No hard feelings of course, but I do believe your history with her is clouding your judgement.”

A range of emotions hits you all at once when you hear that. Anger at this asshole for being thick in the head. Annoyance at the fact that you’ll probably have to do yet another pointless interview about Africa. Then finally, a paralyzing uneasiness at the agent’s implication against Chris. You’ve been too soft on her. Chris’ high professional opinion of you alone results in distrust.

“Yeah, you do that. We done here?” You hear Chris reply cooly, but the rest of the conversation in drowned out by your inner turmoil.

Chris being in close professional proximity to you already turns heads, and not in a good way. Sure the people who can understand your work respect your intellect and appreciate the help, but everyone else sees the shadow of Albert’s memory.

All is takes is someone breathing the name Wesker and the seed of distrust is already planted. Chris being in your corner alleviates some of that, albeit with bewildered looks and reluctant agreement.

You working with Chris is already unusual, but people respect him so they go along with the strange dynamic you two have. Would that respect remain if people knew you were fucking him? Would his team still follow him with full confidence into battle with no questions asked if they knew he was making you cry out his name after the mission was said and done? Would Chris still be sent on missions to clear up the loose ends of Umbrella’s misgivings if his superiors knew he was coming home to you, who literally slept with the enemy? In your mind, absolutely not.

How could you be so reckless? So selfish? You know you won’t be able to salvage any of Chris’ reputation by your own volition. Only taint it. In your mind, there can easily be a future where you and Chris are together, but the world slowly falls apart because of the distrust of you and the once infallible captain. True, Chris isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s only veteran, but he’s undoubtedly one of the most revered.

Before you can spiral further, two calloused hands grip your hips and a pair of lips tenderly kiss the space behind your ear. You can hear a smile and a suggestive mischievousness in Chris’ voice.

“I have to head out soon to handle a few things, but I’m going to make sure that foot is nice and elevated before I go.”

You heart flips and you can feel your cunt throb hearing his offer. You momentarily consider letting Chris have another taste of you, but instead you stick to your resolve. “You can head out now. This isn’t going to work out the way you think it will.”

You feel Chris’ grip on your hips soften and wait for his response. You can clearly envision him connecting the dots in his head of why you had a change of heart.

“Don’t let one asshole ruin something good for you.” Chris’ voice is soft, soothing. Pleading. One of his hands leaves your hips and tries to lace itself on top of your hand gripping the sink. You snatch your hand back and move away from his addictive embrace so there is an appropriate amount of space between you two. Your voice is serious and even. You look at Chris head on. His previously captivating eyes are confused.

“That’s not the point. You are so lucky people look up to you. I’m not going to ruin that by entertaining this.”

“I think that’s a joint decision-” Chris starts, but you’re quick to shut him down.

“No. You don’t get a say in this. You need to go, and we are going to forget today even happened.”

“Doc, that’s just one agent-”

“Among dozens more who think what he’s thinking but keep their opinions to themselves, so they don’t speak out against the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy.”

Chris looks like he's carefully picking his next words but you speak out before he has the chance to form a compelling argument. “I refuse to drag you down to my level. End of discussion. Leave.”

Chris is standing a few paces away from you next to the sink, still looking like he wants to keep insisting on a potential partnership that you know is doomed to fail. Your shoulders slump and you try a different tactic.

“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I changed my mind. I don’t want you here right now. Please respect that.”

Chris processes your words. He nods his head and heads to the door. “Alright.”

You see him put his hand on his keys on the entryway table, but he doesn’t pick them up. His wanting eyes dart over to you one more time while you refuse to meet his gaze.

“I’ll check in on you next week. Do you need me to get your car picked up?”

Your car is still broken down in the parking lot of the bar from the night before. You sigh in frustration. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll handle it. Drive safe.”

You can’t look at the front door. You’re not too sure if it would happen, but you don’t want to risk your resolve crumbling if you get a glimpse of Chris’ face. His infuriatingly kind, tempting face.

After a long pause, you finally hear Chris pick up his keys in the entryway and the front door open. “Keep that foot elevated, will ya Doc?”

“Will do.”

Another long pause, and you hear the front door mercifully close. A moment after, an engine starting up, and a large vehicle driving away.

In the silence of your kitchen, solitary living suddenly feels suffocating. Your mind is still racing. Even after being pushed away minutes after eating you out, Chris still wants to do things for you and it makes your heart ache. As strong as your resolve is right now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to hold out and it terrifies you.

You need distance. Not just emotionally. Physical distance. You know the solution immediately.

In a matter of minutes, you dig out the offer letter from the trash and call the number on the header. When someone finally answers, you’re cordial. Calm.

“Hello, this is Dr. Wesker. I’m calling to learn more about your transfer offer.”

In the span of an hour, your escape plan is set. Europe HQ has booked you on a red eye flight to Germany for later that evening, a work visa is expedited, your new apartment keys are waiting for you across the globe, and you're throwing everything you can't replace in Germany into a suitcase without much throught for organization.

They were surprised to hear you wanted to transfer so quickly, but they were quick to accommodate your reasonable requests. And when they asked if Captain Redfield would still be checking in with you, they were more than understanding about you wanting a local agent to look after you.

Chris Redfield always tries to save everyone.

It’s your turn to make sure you save him from yourself.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading!

#chris redfield x reader smut #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #reader is the wife of (dead) albert wesker #reader is a former umbrella scientist #chris redfield #albert wesker #the Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #angst #no use of y/n #domestic fluff #frenemies to lovers #no beta we die like men

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yanderestarangel · 4 months

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꒰♡꒱─ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓

TW: afab anatomy, dub con, dark themes, ftm reader, v!sex, sub!reader, stepson x stepfather, dilf!wesker, praise, smut.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who always takes care of you, always sending you large amounts of money, regardless of what you ask for, he will give you his black card so you can spend it on whatever you want, he will just want his favorite stepson to a little kiss and spend some time with him... especially because you both know that he only married your mother to be close to you.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who manipulates you to keep you away from your friends, he just wants you for himself! You're his sweet boy, so don't be surprised to see Wesker using his money and powers to keep you trapped at home, keeping you like a cute, cuddly doll that he can control and twirl around his fingers, like a beautiful marionette.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who considers you his only weakness. Wesker would destroy the world for you, he would destroy everything he built throughout his life just to have the guarantee that you would stay by his side forever, regardless of the price it would cost - and when he completes, all his plans, you will live forever next to him, beautiful and molded perfectly by his hands, his pretty boy.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who takes you to the most chic and private dinners, with businessmen from the 'umbrella corporation', introducing you as their precious stepson. He will pamper you with expensive suits that adorn your ass for him, getting possessive if any guy tries to flirt with you - he would probably pull you into some room or take you out of the building, throwing you on the expensive leather seat of his BMW, towering over you as he took his hard, throbbing cock out of his pants, while you could see his red iris glow behind the dark lenses of his glasses. "-Are you going to act like a brat and let others take what's mine? Are you really going to do that boy?" Wesker would growl angrily, as he ripped the fabric of your pants, exposing your pussy to him. "-Daddy will teach you a lesson... after all, bad boys don't get rewards."

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who fucks you with all your desires and dark fantasies, he loves to fuck you in the most expensive hotels and the best panoramic views of the city, making you doggy style and pounding your cunt from behind, while pulling the rope of a collar of diamonds you wore around your neck - obviously given by him "-I could fuck you like this all day..." Wesker grunts in response to your sweet moans, slapping your ass. His thrusts become stronger, bringing you closer to the edge of release. And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "-Not yet, my dear," he whispers in her ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "-You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission, you can do this, right? Like the good boy you are to your daddy hm?" He begins to move, establishing a rhythm that exposes you to the fullness and power of his thrusts, filling you completely. "-Such a good boy, accepting me so well, squeeze those thighs and stick out that fucking ass more! Yes baby boy, exactly like that..."

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who fucks you all over the house, while praising you for handling his dick so well in your little cunt. "-Such a beautiful and cute pussy, just for daddy's cock isn't it?", "-atta boy, do you feel that, angel? it's all for you... take my cock like a good boy.", "- Fuck-! I love hearing you beg for more... I'm going to make you cum so hard, baby boy...", "-You better get used to this my little boy... Because from now on on. Your life will revolve around me... And I will always make sure you are satisfied, whatever the cost..." Your body responded to his touch, arching into him as pleasure washed over you. You could feel the tension in your body growing, your pussy clenching around his dick as you neared the edge of orgasm.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who would lock you up in one of his mansions, in a beautiful golden cage, he would cut your ties with your mom... friends and even normal civilization, nothing exists beyond him now, you are just his, he will leave you just there , for him and for him. "-You will always be my doll boy... won't you?" Wesker would smile darkly, as he handed you the clothes he wanted you to wear. "-You'll never get rid of me... I'm your daddy forever... right my prince?"

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 ©𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 2023. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

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bonkwosher · 1 year

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if you will...

Can i get Albert wesker and Leon S. Kennedy( both from resident evil) with a S/o who has a super soft, velvety, high pitched but not annoying voice?

Love your writing btw💕

~📷 Anon

A/N: You got it, Boss. Also thank you for loving my writing, I try my best!

Albert Wesker:

First of all, just an observation, your voices contrast so much & I love it. Also, let's say you're on the S.T.A.R.S. team for this one, something new.

Wesker 1000% likes to listen to you talk. Usually, he'd tell people to leave him be while he works but you are the exception. When you were first hired & didn't have an office space yet, he totally invited you to work with him in his office (Chris was shocked).

When your squad had to split up on missions, he'd bring you with him. Yeah, he was mainly trying to protect you but hearing you talk more was a bonus. He liked when you'd talk to yourself to calm down as if he wasn't right beside you.

On off days, Wesker would call you claiming, "your voice helps me think, dear." You'd be lying if you said you weren't blushing. If you ended up being busy you'd both apologize & proceed to tell the other that they shouldn't be sorry.

He'd keep you on the line as long as he could but when you inevitably hung up he would definitely be sad. He would then be mad that he was sad over not being able to talk to you. It will take him a long time to admit that he's crushing on you.

He will go out of his way to make you happy just to hear you all excited & thanking him.

Leon S. Kennedy:

(I've never written for him before & don't know as much about him but I will do my best!)

Leon melts at the sound of your voice. You have this man wrapped around your finger.

He'll pretend he's doing dumb shit to make you laugh on purpose but mans is just a himbo. Doesn't change the fact that he loves how you question the stupid things he says.

This man's desk is right next to yours so whenever you complain about not having something, before you can even finish your sentence he has gotten you it just to hear you say "Thank you, Leon."

Speaking of, you saying his name makes this guy beat red. If you really want something just call for him & it's yours.

Asks you to take on press conferences for him so he can stand behind you & listen to you talk.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I made it short just so I didn't run on with similar things because it was a sort of specific request (I don't know how to describe it). Either way, I liked writing this!

#albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #wesker #albert wesker #wesker x reader #dbd wesker #wesker fanart #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x you #resident evil wesker #resident evil 5 #resident evil x reader #resident evil

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anxious-alastor · 1 month

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May I Have This Dance? ||Pt. 2|| Albert Wesker x Fem! Reader

Cameras flashed from multiple directions while reporters pushed microphones as far as their arms could reach. Wesker kept you close and didn't spare a single glance to those grasping for the pair of you.

The soft light from the event hall was welcoming as you passed through the doors. Several hundred conversations muddled into a soft roar just below the sound of live music. You glanced around the crowd, there were some minor celebrities, officers from the RPD, and of course several of the largest donors the city had. You hadn't realized you were approaching them until Wesker offered a greeting.

"Lord Spencer, my pleasure to be seeing you again." Your captain put his other hand on his chest and bowed slightly. You moved slightly to match him with a curtsy.

"Ah, no need for such formalities Albert, Oswell is fine." Oswell seemed amused as he shifted his attention to you, "And this must be the darling doctor I've heard so much about."

"It's very nice to meet you, sir." You smiled politely and offered your free hand to him.

"As it is with you my dear. Albert rarely gives praise to his coworkers." He chuckled and gave your hand a firm shake.

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you glanced up at your captain. Beneath his sunglasses his eyes were fixated on you and he was smirking. This naturally made the flustered feeling worsen and you quickly looked away. You couldn't deny you had the urge to wipe the smirk off his face but there was something else you were feeling.

"Excuse me a moment, Oswell. I should bring my guest here to the STARS table. I'll be back to go over some things with you." Wesker bowed again.

"Of course. We have a lot to discuss." Oswell nodded and seemed to chuckle some more as Wesker whisked you off to one of the many round tables.

The one you stopped at had your office's acronym as well as the words "Alpha Team" underlined beneath. Wesker pulled the chair out for you which you gratefully accepted. He didn't move to sit down after though. Instead he leaned down to talk into your ear.

"I've got some business to attend to. I'll be back soon." His tone seemed secretive. You opened your mouth to question or object but he was already gone.

•••

"Hey doc!" You heard Jill calling nearby and saw her approaching you along with an irritated looking Chris. Jill was in a royal blue floor-length dress that hugged her figure and flared at the bottom while Chris was in a tux. They both sat at the table with you.

"Jill! Chris?" You eagerly turned to them, excited to see your friends here.

"How are you here? Where did you get that dress?" Jill was always quick with the questions. Chris huffed distantly, eyes fixated somewhere else in the ocean of heads.

"Well Captain Wesker actually came by my apartment and-" Upon saying his name you had seemed to finally register the oddity that had happened.

"And?" Jill's eyebrow was cocked and she too had smirk. Something about that simple twitch of the mouth was driving you crazy tonight.

"He brought me this dress and a limousine ride." You knew it sounded ridiculous. How could it not? You promptly shifted topics, "What's wrong with Chris?"

"A rookie brought his sister as a plus one." Jill rolled her eyes.

"A rookie! Can you believe the audacity?" Chris scoffed and muttered something about not being good enough for Claire.

Both you and Jill exchanged glances before laughing. People around your trio shifted with some giving irritated looks while others smiled. Brad and Barry had joined the table a little while later and quickly you all fell into conversation as you ate. It was a nice night to be with friends.

"Hey I can't believe I finally found you guys!" Rebecca's voice caught your attention as she approached from your blind spot. She was in a pale green dress with lace flowers that faded upwards from the bottom of the skirt. She sat down and leaned close, "It's almost time for the speech from Chief Irons."

"You look like a pixie." Chris chuckled, giving Rebecca a thumbs up. Rebecca grinned and returned the gesture.

The ringing sound of metal on glass caused silence to sweep across the hall. The lights dimmed everywhere besides a long rectangular table that sat on a platform a half-foot above the others. Chief Irons was standing in the middle.

You didn't pay attention to a word the Chief said as you were too lost in your own head, thinking only of your Captain.

•••

The last of Chief Irons' speech rang throughout the hall, and soon after applause followed. The chief bowed and gestured to Wesker who was sitting to his left, "Captain Albert Wesker of the STARS Alpha Team would like to give his own toast."

"Thank you Chief Irons." Wesker nodded to the chief after standing up, "I'd like to give a special thanks to our highest donor, Lord Oswell Spencer, CEO of the Umbrella Corporation whose generous donation has fulfilled our goal." He paused as a round of applause was given to Oswell and removed his sunglasses. His piercing blue eyes met yours with an intensity that made a knot form in your stomach.

"One last thing. I want to give my appreciation to the doctor who has been by my side for several years, who has been loyal, compassionate, and the light during dark times. If you would be so kind dearheart," He moved off the stage and to you, leaning into a bow and offering his hand to you "May I have this dance?"

The entire room seemed to have held its breath. Shock and surprise was the only thing you saw as you glanced amongst your friends. It felt like the entire world had stopped as you gazed at Wesker. You didn't dare look away from him, afraid to see everyone staring, and afraid that he would stop. After a couple seconds you finally took his hand and followed as he led you to the dance floor.

Time returned to the rest of the world as the soft hum of voices slowly rose and the musicians began to play a waltz. You didn't notice the whispering. You were too enthralled by him, by the way his gaze made you feel, and by the way warmth was spreading from where your hands met. You felt like you could've floated away and the only thing keeping you grounded was him.

"How long..." The words caught in your mouth.

"How long have I had my eye on you?" He offered. When you nodded he chuckled softly, "Quite a while now dearheart."

You had no idea if your cheeks could grow any hotter. He pulled you closer into an embrace as the music slowed and he whispered to you

"Your stubborness, your sweetness, your anger, and your joy, all of it is absolutely enchanting to me." He was breathless as he brushed his hand against your cheek. "I want all of it–all of you."

"You mean that?" Your hand reached to his and grasped it tight as you looked at him helplessly.

"Why else would I have dropped everything to bring you here?" He smiled earnestly and you couldn't help but believe him.

You allowed his words and actions to quiet that little questioning voice inside you and you leaned close to him. You pressed your lips to his as you both slowed to a stop. After a few moments you pulled away and registered the sounds of applause.

"Let's get out of here." You offered with a smile.

"Gladly." Wesker grinned before quickly scooping you into his arms and dashing out the hall. Whistles and cheers followed you through the exit and you found yourself wondering if you were dreaming. Another kiss proved one thing to be true.

It wasn't a dream anymore.

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #chris redfield #umbrella corporation #jill valentine #rebecca chambers #barry burton #resident evil alternate universe #alternative universe #black tie event #shy reader #feminine reader #no use of y/n #claire redfield #brad vickers

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blueysobssesions · 1 year

Note

37. "Maybe she was right...I'm useless"

with Wesker? like Excella being mean to y/n and them getting insecure abt being with Wesker and not feeling like enough

-🐺 also ough such angst ty brain

Love me some angsty :))

Albert Wesker x Reader

Angst to Fluff

"Your just useless to him, I mean look at me! I helped him achieve Uroboros! and your just there doing nothing but just give him love and affection!" Excella mocked you. She's been doing this when she found out about your relationship with Albert. You knew she has feelings for him, you even caught her staring at him with a smile on her face. She seems like he was admiring him... You didn't bother it at first, but when you saw her seducing him with her hand roaming around on his abdomen. Albert getting annoyed at her actions but in your eyes, he wasn't getting bothered by it. Jealousy starting to fill your body.

"She's beautiful, have a beautiful body and a pretty face... Of course he would like her..." you were unsure and unconfident about your relationship with him. You we're losing trust to him to stay faithful and constantly worrying that his cheating on you.

Sobs were heard in the bedroom, and you sitting at the edge of the bed. You couldn't stop the urge to cry when Excella keeps on continuing to insulting you. "Dear? Are you alright-" hearing a small gasp from Albert who just returned home. He heard sobs coming from the bedroom and went to check on what's happening, there you are... Sitting at the edge of the bed crying. "Who did it?" He said harshly, you didn't say nothing but just focusing on to stop your cries. Albert walk towards you, he was now standing in front of you. He kneeled down wanting to see what's happening and ask about it. "Shh, it's okay my dearest... Everything is okay..." He held you face in his hands, his thumb slowly removing your tears that was falling. You look at him with teary eyes "M-maybe she was right... I am useless..." You breath was shaky. You can already see a small glowing red dust through his glasses. "Who said that to you?" he said with a calm voice trying not to make it obvious that he'll do something brutal. "Her... D-do you think I'm useless...?" You whispered. Albert was quite taken back to what you just said to yourself "Why would I think about you like that? No, your not useless my dear... You kept me safe and loved for how long... I love you with all my heart..." He said with a soft tone and kissed your forehead. Your sobs were now gone, tears stopped falling down to your cheeks. A smile slowly appearing to your face. You couldn't help but hug him without a warning. Let's say... He made an excuse that he's sick but really was just staying close with you <3

"Sorry Excella, but it appears that Uroboros has rejected you. There's only one who can join my new world... Unfortunately, it isn't you"

---

I apologize for not posting that much :') rlly busy doing work

Re TAGLIST:

@dargoww @ssbptigers @re-njnx

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#resident evil #blueyheartzposts #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker x reader fluff #albert wesker fluff #resident evil 5 #re5 #resident evil x reader fluff

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sw33ts444 · 1 month

Text

frozen crown

pairing: prince!leon x fem!reader x knight!wesker

content warnings: sexual content

wc: 2,031

an: hihi!! i'm going to do my best to keep leon and wesker in character but i can't make any promises as this is a completely different universe. honestly cant decide if the ml will be leon or wesker. will most likely be leon tho! pls lmk if i accidentally switch to 3rd pov, i'm not used to 2nd pov. ps. the residents are evilin

other chapters: 2

1: departure

"Sister, do you really have to go?" The youngest princess, Lucille, begged. You were in the midst of choosing clothes to travel in with your two ladies-in-waiting, choosing different gowns that would survive the long journey north. You let out a long sigh as you turned to the younger. She was just 13, a girl of ten years younger. And perhaps the sister you were closest out of the five girls your parents bore. She was innocent, naïve, and terribly sheltered. You gave her a gentle smile as you strode over to sit beside her on the bed as the ladies-in-waiting worked on moving your gowns into suitcases.

Placing her hand in yours, you spoke. "I do. I have to go so our parents can continue to take care of you and the residents of our kingdom." You tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she gave you a solemn look.

"Why does it have to be you?" She grumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "Can't it be Eleanor? She's younger and... and... I mean she's not as good as you but we need someone like you here! Who else will kepp the nobility in check and help the people?"

"Perhaps it will be you, Lucy," you smiled at her. "Learn etiquette, politics, how to care for our kingdom. I will support you... As the imperial consort." The final sentence came out strangled, your voice cracking as the words struggled to come out. Imperial consort... A fate you wished you could avoid.

Your kingdom was struggling to stay afloat, famine, droughts, and diseases were running rampant across the land. The royal coffers were not enough to fund the resources necessary to create solutions. If it were not for the diamond mines recently found, your marriage to the powerful northern empire would never have happened. In exchange for support towards your small kingdom, the empire would receive you and the rights to the diamond mines. It was of little solace to know you were worth the same priceless amount of multiple diamond mines.

Tomorrow was D-Day. The day you left for the empire. The day you would leave everyone and everything you left behind. Including your secret lover. Including your dearest Albert Wesker.

Albert Wesker was your assigned royal guard by your father. The most capable of all knights, the captain himself. He was far older than you, old enough to have sired you. And yet, there was an undeniable attraction between the two of you. When he was first assigned to you when you came of age, he was cold and unforgiving, never having said a word. But you must've grown on him over time, because there came a point where his attraction to you was undeniable. Of course, as eldest princess, you had a duty to keep your integrity. But that didn't stop you from sharing stolen, forbidden moments and tender kisses. Leaving him and being promised off to another was, as shameful as it felt to admit, possibly the worst part of this arranged marriage. Though, there was some mercy. He and your ladies-in-waiting were allowed to escort you to the empire, but from there, it was a high chance that they would be replaced with people native to that land.

The day was coming to an end far too quickly. After comforting Lucille, you had dinner with the rest of your family. It was a subdued affair. And soon you were up in your room again for your final night, but not alone.

"Wesker," you breathed, choking back tears. He had been waiting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, but as soon as you entered he crossed the room in few strides, pulling you into a desperate embrace. This was out of character for him. He never seemed desperate. "Wesker," you repeated, the tears that you so greatly wanted to keep hidden spilled forth as you buried your head in his chest. He gently rubbed your back in a comforting, gentle way. A tenderness he would only ever show you.

"Shhh, dearheart, I'm here." His voice was husky, laced with pain. He separated for a moment to pick you up, and he carried you to your bed, drawing the curtains aside before gently placing you down. He climbed in with you, entwining his body with yours beneath the silk sheets. And he kissed you, tenderly, so gentle it was like he was scared of breaking you. But it soon became heated, passionate, filled with desperation. His hands wandered your body, expertly removing your dress. Luckily, today you hadn't worn a very complicated one. Both of your garments now to the side, he returned his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth, drawing a gasp of surprise from you. His hands left hot trails everywhere they went; it was as if he was trying to memorise every inch of your body.

His mouth moved from yours down to your jaw and your neck, leaving a trail of kisses, careful not to do anything that would leave lasting marks. Eventually his mouth made its way to your breast, latching on to your nipple. You let out a quiet moan, trying to keep your noises as suppressed as possible. His tongue flicked and teeth grazed at your nipple whilst his hand played with your other breast, making sure to give the two of them equal attention. Your moans spilled forth, "Wesker!" Your noises seemed to light a flame within him as he began to move down your body, placing kisses on your soaked panties as he hitched your legs up on his shoulders. This was uncharted territory. You had never let him touch there, to maintain your dignity as a princess, you had always cited. But tonight was different. Tonight was possibly your last night to enjoy his embrace.

The older made eye contact with you, eyes asking for permission, but even with this being the final night, you could not bring yourself to breach your morals and teachings. Although, for going as far as you already have, you might as well. You bit your lip, struggling to come to a decision, but the hesitation was answer enough for Wesker. He moved out from inbetween your legs, guilt panging in your chest as your eyes fell to the tent in his undergarments. If only he was your intended, your future, your destiny. Desire burned beneath your underwear.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him as he hovered above you.

He shook his head in response, "Don't apologise, dear," he laid a gentle kiss on your forehead before laying beside you. "You hold steadfast to your beliefs; it's something I love about you."

"I'm going to miss these nights we spend together," the lump was forming in your throat once more.

"So will I, princess, so will I." Moments of silence passed as you two simply enjoyed each other's company, his hands roamed your body freely, but a lot more tenderly than before.

"Do you remember when you were first assigned as my guard?" You whispered, a small smile gracing your face as you caressed his cheek.

A frown played about his lips. "I would rather not think about those days, dearheart."

You giggled in response. "Why? It's so silly to think back on."

"I was cruel to you, then. Treated you far colder than an esteemed princess ought to be treated."

"Being cold is just who you are." You paused, planting a soft peck on his lips. "I'm just glad you warmed up to me."

He smirked, drawing you in for a deeper kiss, still ever-so gentle. "Who could resist this charm of yours?" He smacked your ass and buried his head into the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible. You had yelped in surprise at his sudden actions, but it quickly melted into giggles as his breath tickled your neck.

"Albert Wesker, I love you."

"I love you too," his response sounded filled with more sorrow than anything else.

The next day was busy; Wesker had gotten up to leave before the sun rose, despite your pleas, so the maids and your ladies-in-waiting would not find the two of you together. It was right in time that you got your garments on as well, as the ladies-in-waiting came in and drew the curtains almost as soon as you finished. They assisted you in bathing and getting dressed and having a quick breakfast before escorting you outside, where the row of carriages holding all your luggage was kept. It wasn't as much as one would expect from a royal; usually there would be as many as ten carriages, but being frugal and considering the state of your kingdom, you decided to take only two carriages of luggage.

And now, it was time for your awaited departure, which came all too soon. Your family was waiting by the carriage, and the palace staff were standing bowed as a farewell. These people, whom you have known your whole life, you may never see again. Tears welled up in your eyes as you walked towards your family, curtsying to the king and queen. "Greetings to the sun and moon of the kingdom," your ladies-in-waiting followed suit.

"Daughter..." Your father sighed, gesturing for you to stand upright. Your father wasn't one for affection, but his eyes were swimming with a multitude of emotions as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder. "You are doing us a great service, my daughter. My eldest daughter whom I feel nothing but pride and joy for." Your mother, the queen, sobbed quietly as she pulled you in for a hug.

"My dear, sweet, kind, girl," she whispered, "I know you'll make us proud." She separated and placed a gentle hand on your cheek to wipe away your streaming tears with her thumb.

"Thank you, mother," as you turned to your sisters, Lucille leaped into your arms, unabashedly sobbing loudly.

"You have to write me! All the time! Ok?!" She cried, burying her face into your cloak.

"I will," you croaked, patting her hair as comfortingly as possible. "I trust you to study diligently," you lowered your head to whisper in her ear, "I will support you if you decide to pursue the crown." She nodded. As you straightened yourself, the other three sisters approached you. None of them showing nearly as much emotion as your parents or Lucille. Two of them, Eleanor and Maribelle, envied your prowess whilst the other, Georgina, fears retribution from the olders if she were ever to side with you.

"Farewell, sister. I'll make sure to take on your duties and help care for our kingdom in your absence," Eleanor gave a wicked smile. Maribelle and Georgina didn't say a word.

"Thank you, kind sister, but I trust our parents far more than an inexperienced princess. I know you are eager to learn, but mistakes are far more costly to fix. Please, take your time in learning well my duties before you take them up," Your tone was sweet, and you felt a small twinge of amusement as the smile plastered on her face faltered.

"Safe... safe travels," Georgina's small voice came out from behind Maribelle. Her nervousness was the only thing that stood out about this princess.

"Your Highness, I am afraid it is time for us to depart." Abigail, one of your ladies-in-waiting, murmured. You separated from Lucille, who was still sobbing loudly, clenching her gown in her fists.

"Thank you, all. I will make sure to write and do our kingdom proud. And if time allows, I will visit as well." Wesker, who stood by your carriage, opened the door and held out a hand to help you in, which you took. As the carriages pulled away from the palace, your family stood, waving at you. It was a heartbreaking sight to see; you're finally leaving everything you've ever known behind. Your whole life, your whole family, what you thought would be your future, your whole everything. The tears couldn't seem to stop flowing from your eyes, no matter how much you wiped away at them.

please don't rewrite, repost, translate, or submit my work to ai 💜

taglist: ask to join:)

#albert wesker #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker smut #resident evil au #me when the residents are evil #albert whiskers

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

(R) Drabbles: Albert Wesker- Pity Her

Alice had fought me tooth and nail about bonding with the t-virus. She was more than worried about what it could do to my body. Worried that I wouldn't bond with it. Worried I would turn into a brainless cannibal, but Albert was more than confident.

Alice only said a few things to me about it before I told her that I had already made my mind up. "Y/n, I'm just saying that you might not connect with the virus, and then what…" She said looking at me with worry written on her face. I gave her a simple shrug of the shoulder. "Alice, listen to me right now. I already made my mind up. Albert is going to make sure everything goes right." I said to my sister. She sighed heavily, "I just worry about you, I'm supposed to protect you and all." She said.

That was the last conversation I had with Alice. Albert took me away on a trip to not let me worry or to even think about the virus that was about to be running through my body soon enough.

"Albert, are you sure that everything will be okay?" I asked fear was starting to roll through my bones the closer we got to returning home. "Sweetheart, now you just let me worry about that. You'll be fine. Do you want to know why I know that?" He asked me. His hand had slipped into mine. "Cause I'm already right here to protect you from anything." He said like it was so simple, so easy for him to just be here with me. I rest my head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment. "Okay, baby. I trust you." I said easily, the words flooding out of my mouth.

The lab lights are bright and they're killing my eyes. I can feel a headache from the lights coming on. It reminds me of a hospital late at night when the fluorescent lights are beaming a little too hard.

"Alright, are you ready baby?" Albert asks. He's so caring, and not just because he has to be right now. This is just how he is with me. The nicknames, and the soft touches of his hand slipping to mine. Caring words that soothe any kind of worry. He had shown you a few things beforehand about what the t-virus would do, how it would change your entire body.

The injection feels like hell as it pumps through the body. It archs and everything around me gets dark dizzy. I try to not let it show, but Albert could see the ache and hurt that etching into my express. "Baby, love you need to breath. It's gonna take a moment." he said softly as he cupped my hand into his. After what seems like forever and a century. Albert carries me in his arms, bridal style up from the lab and up into our bedroom. I nuzzle myself closer into his neck, loving the scent of Albert. A burning bourban and leather smell that fills your head and calms you even just a little. He lays you down on the bed gently. The sweat is forming on your hairline, Albert is quick to laid down next to you. He hold you close to hime, and wipes the sweat from your hairline. "You'll be just fine queenie." He whispers softly into your hair as he holds you close to his chest.

You can't think, but you're more then enjoying the close space you and Albert are having. His caring and loving self only ever showes for you, and the same for you. You love Albert more then you honestly love life. There's just something there that you can't manage to find anywhere else.

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goofyahhcats · 8 months

Text

Hold the Line

Rating: E

Re5!Chris Redfield / Gn!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst if you squint, Injury, Violence (not related to smut), p in v action, Gn reader, reader is afab, reader usually wears a bra, use of sweetheart, baby, etc.

Summary: After being injured in the battle against Albert Wesker, you find yourself making stupid decisions. How can you face Chris after what you've done? He seems to be avoiding you. Then again, who wants to get chewed out by their coworkers? You can't help but notice a glint in his eye. It's just your imagination, right?

Word count: 3.8k

A03 link here:

Took some creative liberties with the end of/post re5 ignore that

Burning alive inside of a fiery volcano was not exactly your preferred way to go. The heat and smoke had forced their way inside of your throat hours ago, leaving you teary-eyed and gasping for air. Your eyes, open wide and wild with panic passing back and forth between the rocky landscape and the red and bubbling abyss. You watched in horror as the thing that was once your Captain writhed and screamed as he flung one of his many-tentacled appendages toward you. Scrambling in the other direction, you sprinted towards any open path that wasn’t obscured by lava or crumbling to pieces. Your boots thudded over the rough terrain with an unpleasant rhythm. A stark reminder of an unfortunate tumble you had recently landing you directly on your ankle.

You focused on keeping your breathing steady as you stumbled as fast as you could away from Wesker. Who, after tossing a quick look over your shoulder, was gaining rapidly. A mass of Uroboros shot by you, just barely missing your arm and instead making contact with the floor in front of you. Crumbling away and sizzling as it contacted the lava, the stone of the once angled slope ahead now resembled more of a solid brick wall. Your steps slowed and came to a shaky stop as you stared unblinking at the end of the path. Horrified, you cringed as you heard Wesker’s maniacal laughter seeping between the loud bubbling of the active volcano.

You turned, horrified, as he inched closer and closer towards you. His face wore a grin of satisfaction. Bright red and cat-like eyes alight with the fire of the hunt. Suddenly, his eyes locked somewhere above your head. His grin faded into a snarl as you heard a deep and loud voice scream your name.

“Grab on!” Chris’ large hand extended into view as you whipped around, jumping and gripping him as hard as you could. He almost effortlessly lifted you onto the ledge you had been trying to reach. Biceps and shoulders turning and flexing as he shoved you behind him.

“Go! Now!”

Chris lets a few bullets fly from over his shoulder as a strong hand finds the small of your back and pushes you forward and away from the amalgamation that once was Albert Wesker.

“We gotta get out of here!” Chris called, pulling you behind a boulder to avoid another attack from Wesker.

You stumbled, catching the side of the rockface to hold yourself up. You felt a hot and searing pain flare up from the base of your leg. Shit.

Chris noticed your pained expression, “Hey, what’s wrong?” A gloved hand reached your shoulder, turning your upper body to face him.

“It’s my ankle,” you grimaced, “Twisted it earlier when I was running.”

Chris’ eyes flooded with concern, “Shit, can you walk?”

You tentatively placed your foot down and put a bit of weight on it. The searing pain returned and you quickly withdrew your foot.

“It’s no good,” you rasp, shaking your head.

“Here, I’ll carry you,” Chris rumbled as he reached his hands under your shoulders and legs. You protested slightly but quickly shut your mouth as Chris took off in the direction of another alcove. You heard Wesker shriek as Sheva bombarded him with a barrage of bullets. Chris tucked behind the rocks and looked around, leaning against the wall for support. His breathing was hot, ghosting across your face in waves in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Sweat beaded over his forehead as he watched Sheva duel with Wesker.

“The helicopter should be here soon,” he mumbles, eyebrows knit in thought and frustration.

“Just leave me here,” you look up at him sympathetically, “I’m no use to you two down there if I can’t even walk.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Chris’ dark eyes hold contact with yours. The steadiness of his voice surprises you. This was the Chris Redfield you knew.

“But-”

“No!” Chris yells. You feel his hands tighten and release around your sides as the spark of anger in his eyes slowly fades away. “I’m not losing another one.” His voice is once again steady, But his eyes betray his stoic expression. Tired, sad, and angry. For a brief moment, his eyes flood you with an emotion so intense you can hardly think straight. You feel warm inside, and you smile gently.

“I’m good with a rifle. Tell Jill to pick me up,” you hold his gaze as he drops his head, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a shuddering sigh.

“I can’t let you do that,” he looks back down at you.

Suddenly, you are lifted into the air again. Chris pants as he brings his legs up to speed again, running across the volcano. Wesker and Sheva come into view. You breathe out gratefully that your friend is still alive. You feel Chris’ breath hitch as the full scene is revealed, however. Wesker has Sheva’s neck in a tentacled grasp. Her legs kick as she squirms in an attempt to fight back. You hear her gasp for air and struggle to breathe. Wesker smirks psychotically at her weak display of resistance.

“Chris-”

“I know!” His eyebrows are tightly knit, and he looks down at you and back up at Sheva. Taking initiative, you wrestle yourself out of his grip.

“No,” Chris starts but returns his gaze to Sheva as Wesker drops her to the floor, laughing as he cages her in between him and the lava.

He looks back at you, surprised to find your eyes filled with cold hard determination. Your rifle was positioned in your hands.

“Go,” you state. Nodding towards Sheva, “I’ll be ok. Help her.”

A moment's hesitation, but you see his eyes harden again, “Alright. I trust you.”He turns away.

Suddenly, you are overcome with a rush of emotions. Worry. Want. Need. Before you know it, you are hobbling on one leg and grabbing at his bicep for support. Chris stares at you, bewildered, before you drag his head forward by the vest. Your lips meet for a brief moment. Seconds, maybe. His arm cards through your hair and he holds you close. You feel that warm feeling spread through your body again before it is ripped away as you pull from the kiss.

“In case we don’t see each other again,” your expression is somber, patting him roughly on the shoulder and giving him a slight push in the right direction. He takes two staggering steps forward, looking back at you before his expression tightens. He nods and charges off towards Sheva and Wesker.

The rest of the night is a blur. Jill arrives in the helicopter, just in the nick of time. They swing over to retrieve you, and you watch as Chris and Sheva blast Wesker to pieces. You all sit back as the helicopter flies away, the volcano retreating into the distance. The ride is silent, but you occasionally can feel Chris’ hot gaze on your back. Your hands brush his as you exit the helicopter back on base.

You don’t talk to Chris for a whole month. You had been too engrossed in your medical status - doctors confirming that you had fractured your ankle - and had been bedridden for weeks. Your hospital had denied you visitation, instead putting you in trauma counseling. You didn’t need the therapy, this was the fault of the BSAA’s shitty cover story, claiming that a violent house fire caused you to fall a few flights of stairs, losing all of your roommates and extended family in the process. Those roommates and extended family were covers for the deaths of the other members of Bravo and Delta Team, who had lost their lives in battle. Of course, the BSAA only told this story to the general masses and the hospital. The details - although as vague as possible - were disclosed to the families of the deceased. After your counseling, you endured a few more weeks of physical therapy and were now happily on your own two feet once again.

You reentered the BSAA headquarters for the first time in what seemed to be forever and were greeted by many astonished coworkers. You smiled and waved, giving gratitude towards all of the well wishes that you received. In reality, you had been scanning the crowd for a familiar face and a brown tuft of hair. You couldn’t find Chris anywhere.

You became a bit frantic, eyes looking from face to face to no avail. At some point, you excused yourself and rushed through the compound. Twisting and turning through the corridors, you eventually come face to face with a strong wooden door. The engraving read, ‘C. REDFIELD’. You raised your fist and knocked one, twice, three times, before you heard a muffled, “Coming,” and some shuffling from within.

You took in his figure when he opened the door. Once broad and proud shoulders tired and hunched. His arms remained built and impressive, but you could feel the weight they carried as they dangled loosely by his sides. His face was scruffy as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. Although you silently admitted it was a good look for him. His hair was considerably longer, and the quiff in front no longer stood at attention and instead lay half up half down in a feeble attempt. He had heavy eyebags, which encircled his thick eyelashes and lidded gaze.

“Chris,” you shift on your feet nervously, unsure of whether to run away or wrap your arms around him.

A low mumble of your name cascades between his lips. His right arm twitches upward as if to touch you, grab you, hold you close, but then slowly returns to its initial position.

You stand in silence for a few moments, taking each other in with thousand-yard stares. A spark of something, you aren’t sure what exactly, fills Chris’ eyes. He takes a step back. Gesturing to his office, “Come in.”

You walk in and take in the familiar surroundings. This is not the first time you’ve been inside of his office. He always kept it surprisingly tidy, but it always had a comfortable and lived-in feeling to it. However, now you notice trash on the ground. Cups upon cups of coffee are scattered about. On the desk, on the floor, and in the trash can.

Chris takes a seat in his desk chair and you sit on one of the two chairs facing his desk. The quiet was deafening. Chris rummaged through his desk, avoiding your gaze. You open your mouth to speak, say anything to break the silence that was hanging over the two of you like a wet blanket. Chris beat you to it, haphazardly tossing a wad of papers into your lap.

“Need you to file a mission report,” he was speaking in his professional voice. His inflection read This is strictly business, nothing more. You picked up the papers and flipped through them. Nothing caught your eye. You raised your head to find that Chris was already looking at you. His eyes bore into yours as if he was searching for something. You nod, going to stand, to leave, to get away from the warm blossoming feeling. He doesn’t protest. Your hand reaches the doorknob before you are halted by his voice, gravelly and tired.

“What was that?”

You turn to face him, “What?”

“Wesker. The volcano. You know what I’m talking about.” Chris’ eyes catch yours once again.

Oh.

You are flooded again with that familiar feeling. You hate it. His lips had felt so tender, so soft. You felt the need to run to him. Wrap your arms around him, and tell him everything is going to be alright.

“What about it do you want to know?” your voice is quiet, feeling almost cornered by his gaze.

Chris sighs and drags his hand over his face. His eyes break contact and stare at the ceiling.

“We need to talk,” he mumbles.

“About-”

“Everything.” his voice rises slightly, and he stands up. He makes his way towards you and halts. You can feel your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He was so close. You could practically count each scar and blemish that decorated his upper body. You longed to trace your fingers over them. To soothe the aches that he must be feeling.

Chris’ hand reaches over yours, and clasps around your right hand, still resting on the doorknob. You tense up as Chris gently turns the handle and pushes the door open. The knob swings away, but his hand remains on yours.

“Meet me at my place tonight,” his hand slowly retracts, as if he just now realized what he had done.

“We need to talk,” he repeats.

You nod in reply, your throat too dry and your voice too shaky to respond. You stay staring at him for a moment, before turning and leaving his office.

You finish your BSAA duties quickly, rushing home and almost stumbling on your way to the shower to clean yourself up. Only once you had finished getting dressed and were slipping on your shoes did the reality of the situation hit you. Your rushed movements slowed as the anxiety set in. You felt the pit at the bottom of your stomach only grow as your car neared Chris’ apartment building. You made your way up the stairs, practically sick with the idea of actually confronting your feelings.

You raised a fist and knocked only once at his door before it opened. Inside stood the same Chris that you had met this morning, only now in a comfortable white shirt and gray sweatpants. He steps backward, and you walk in as he shuts the door behind you. You look around his modest but homey apartment.

Just like his office, you reminisce. Smiling slightly to yourself as you walked further into the simple living room. Chris takes a few long strides to his couch and sits down. He takes a beer he seems to have placed on the table previously and cracks it open. As you sit, you notice he had put out one for you too. You take it graciously and take a sip.

Chris turns to you, “So, about what happened-”

“I am so sorry Chris. I overstepped. I really shouldn’t have let my feelings get in the way of work, I-”

“Stop.” Chris gently rests a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“No! But, it was so unprofessional of me..!” your hands flail about as you talk, words tumbling from your mouth as the coil inside of you unravels faster than you could keep up, “Sheva could have died and I- I was just being… selfish,” You exhale at that last word and look up into Chris’ dark eyes. For the first time in months, weeks, or years, you see a smile spread across his face. It crinkles the corners of his eyes up, and you feel as though you will never see anything as beautiful ever again.

“Sweetheart,” it falls gracefully between his lips as he talks, the other hand coming up to brush a knuckle along your jawline, You feel your face heat up.

“Chris, listen-”

Chris shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. You let out a muffled squeak in response. It was all passion, Want. Need. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around you and you reciprocated. Fingers finding their way into his hair, alternating between stroking and pulling. He groaned into your mouth and swiped his tongue across your lips. You obliged. His tongue buried against yours as you suddenly found yourself leaning back against the cushions.

The warm feeling is everywhere. Hot and heavy. But this time, you didn’t want to back down. You needed more.

One of your hands took a detour from his hair and began exploring his expanses of muscle. His biceps flexed on instinct as you came into contact with them. You traced up and down the curve of his elbow as he kissed you harder.

He broke away for air for only a split second before diving into you again. You felt and heard him audibly shudder as your wandering hand found the edge of his shirt. He broke away, face flushed.

“Are you sure?” It was quiet, almost difficult to hear. You nodded.

Chris cupped your face with his hand, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you whispered, wetness pooling in your pants as he quickly pulled up his top. You were only allowed to stare for a moment before he captured your lips in his again. Instead, you opted to see with your hand, which traveled over every bump, bruise, scar, and muscle it could find. He groaned and fisted a hand in your t-shirt. You pushed his chest away and broke the kiss, hot breaths filling the silence of his living room as you fumbled with your shirt, exposing your chest to Chris.

“Fuck, no bra?” he growled against your ear as he began to grope and explore your body just as you had his.

You let out a small giggle, “Nope, didn’t feel like one today,” you gasped as he gripped onto your sides, making contact with the top of your pants.

He smirks, “Shouldn’t feel like wearing one more often, then. Fuck,” he stares down at your chest, “I’ve been missing out.”

His mouth catches yours and you pull him down flush against you. You can feel his sizeable bulge against your thigh, which only deepens the wetness pooling in your underwear.

With a surge of confidence, your hand reaches between the two of you and palms Chris through his sweatpants. He lets out a low and shuddering moan at the feeling. You fumble with his waistband before he pulls it down himself. His boxers come down with them and you are left with the feeling of his cock springing against your stomach. You swallow heavily as you stare. He was long and thick. You gripped him and stroked once experimentally. He let out a breath and hissed as you slid your thumb over the head. You slid your hands up and down his shaft before he grabbed your wrist.

“Let me take care of you first,” he whispered. In a flash, your pants and panties had been removed, exposing your glistening cunt to the world. Chris groaned at the sight. He experimentally slid a finger between your folds. Your hips bucked upwards at the feeling, a noise escaped your lips that you didn’t know had been there.

Chris raises his finger and chuckles, “All for me?” he presses the finger to your lips. You gently allow him inside and clean him off with your tongue. He takes his finger away and returns it to your folds. One finds its way to your slit and strokes over and around the opening, while another finds your clit. Both fingers circle for a moment until you grow desperate, rocking your hips against him.

“Chris.. don't be such a tease,” you say between each rock of your hips. Your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders. He allows you to rock for a little while. Simply admiring you with a soft look on his face.

“Chris, please,” you whine. He groans, dipping one finger inside of you. You moaned louder than you had meant to as he began to thrust his finger back and forth. The other finger rubs circles over your clit as you pull him down towards you for another kiss. He kisses you passionately, bordering on rough as you whimper into his mouth. You can feel his resolve cracking the more your tongues and lips meet. His fingers speed up until he quickly rips them away from you. He breaks the kiss, staying close to your face. His eyes burn with desire.

“Tell me you need me,” he growls low, one of his fingers returning to your folds. You start to respond but let out a choked moan as he tugs at your clit.

“Tell me you fucking need me,” Chris’ eyes flash “Because I've always needed you.”

“Fuck… Chris, I need you..! I need you right now, please just-”

You are cut off by his cock sliding itself into you, and you moan. Your back arches up as your hands tighten over his shoulders. His lips dip down to your neck, kissing and sucking as he begins to move at a rapid pace. No slow introduction, no pacing, he needed you and he needed you now.

Your moans bounce throughout his living room, skin on skin echoing through his apartment. You bring a hand up to his hair and pull, bringing his head up from its position at your neck. He groans at the feeling, eyes locking onto yours as he pounds into you.

One of his hands grips the flesh of your thigh and lifts, bringing it upwards. The stretch nearly causes you to orgasm on the spot. Chris’ cock nudged that perfect spot with each thrust.

“Fuck.. baby,” Chris rasps in your ear, his other hand holding tightly to your waist, “I'm close. I'm close… fuck.”

You moan in response, reaching down between the two of you to thumb at your clit. Chris quickly grabs your wrist, “No. Let me..”

His calloused thumb rubs against your clit, and you can feel your pussy tightening against his cock.

“Shit, yeah sweetheart. Just like that,” Chris moans. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips meet yours quickly. He’s messy, sloppily kissing you in time with his thrusts. He drops his head and groans a chorus of Fuck’s and Shit, baby.

“Look at me. Are you close?” you meet his eyes and nod, moaning his name.

“Chris,”

“I know, baby.”

His thumb speeds up, and you spasm. Your back arches up as you cum, your legs shaking. You spill fluids all over his dick, moaning and babbling incoherently. It doesn't take long for Chris to find his end as well. You feel a hot sensation flooding between your legs as Chris empties himself into you. He gasps and groans as he thrusts into you a few more times.

His movements halt and you both stay there, breathing heavily. You hold eye contact with him as he gently pulls out of you.

He sits back, admiring his work. He then stands and pads towards another room. You hear a sink running. He returns with a warm washcloth and wipes you down, folding the cloth over and then wiping himself off. Ever the gentle giant, he tenderly sits you up, offering you a glass of water. You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you gratefully sip the beverage.

Chris gently strokes your hair with one hand. You smile and nuzzle into his side. His arm wraps around you as you both sit there in silence for a few minutes.

You turn your head up to him, “Did you mean what you said? About needing me?”

Chris sighs, a small smile falling across his features, “Yeah, I did. Did you?”

You return the smile, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

“Yes, always.”

#NSFT #smut #angst #chris redfield #chris redfeild x reader #resident evil #re5 #albert wesker #idk hes there for a bit im adding him #god i love him #gender neutral reader #no use of y/n #afab reader

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