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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sweet Dreams (Albert Wesker x afab!Reader)

18+ | somno, oral sex, penetrative sex, come eating, light angst, soft wesker, amab!reader version here | Fic Directory

This was hardly an uncommon occurrence anymore.  You’d given him permission long ago, but it always came as a surprise regardless.  Perhaps it was just… out of character.  Wesker’s so damn dignified all the time.  

The first time it happened, you woke to his greedy little slurps between your legs, his tongue all but desperately fucking in and out of your pussy until he slipped two fingers inside to coax your nectar free to sate his appetite.  He’d let out an amused, victorious hum when your thighs clamped around his head and you mewled the bliss of your release.  Wesker took you hard and fast that night, over and over until his eyelids grew heavy and he’d exhausted his inhuman stamina.

You’d talked about it the next day, of course.  You both enjoyed yourselves, so why not?  Turns out, this was the best thing to ever happen to your sex life.  Quality time with Albert was sparse, but time for ‘primitive pleasures,’ as he calls them, were even more so.  He’d often come to bed well after you’d fallen asleep, sometimes even leaving before you had the chance to wake in the morning.  Such was life.

Now, though?  Now he comes home and knows he can have his way with you.  He can wake up in the middle of the night and be as mischievous as he could possibly want.  Or as desperate.

“Nngh–”

Like tonight.

“H-Hah…”

His breaths fan hot against your neck and each pitiful noise is sung into your ear.  He thrusts slowly, each languid stroke just shallow enough to be kind.  He must be trying to let you stay asleep.  You smirk, weighing your options.  You could bring your legs up and around his waist, tug him closer, signal that it was okay to speed up and take what he needs.  Or… you could enjoy the show.  After all, you’ve never caught him like this.

He’s a sensual lover in every sense of the word, but you’ve never heard him be so vocal before.

“Mm, god…”  He mewls, tongue laving at your flesh as he grinds warm and wet in your aching core.  He locks his lips at the junction of your shoulder and suckles, teeth nibbling sweetly.  It sends shivers down your spine and you have to fight the urge to arch into it.  “F-Feels so, mmph…”  His speed increases bit by bit as his self control falters.  Fuck, you can practically see him even with your eyes shut.  Right about now, his eyes are probably glowing redder than ever.  Those cat-like pupils are probably blown wide.  He’s probably got his teeth bared and his nose scrunched the way he does when he’s holding back.

“M-Mine,” he whispers.  Grinding turns to sloppy ruts and fuck, you can’t take it anymore.

You open your eyes and find him exactly as you’d pictured him, but there’s something… different.  Something strange.  You thumb it away, thinking it to be a sweat drop, but another follows the same path and you realize he’s–

“Al..?”

“Mine.  Mine…” He gasps, face falling to your neck once more.  You bring your hand to his nape and curl your fingers there.  His thrusts grow messier by the second, but your pleasure had all but been eradicated the second you realized those were tears on his cheeks.  “You’re– you’re real.  Real,” Wesker pants weakly, “and mine!”

Your legs come up around him, guiding his motions, and you rake your fingers through his mussed hair.  “Shh, sweetheart.” You coo.  You’ve heard this song and dance before.  It’s been quite some time since he learned of his manufactured life, but there were still cracks in his seemingly impenetrable walls.  He fell apart back then.  Swore up and down after that it’d never happen again.  But sometimes…  “I’ve got you.”  Sometimes reality is harsher than even the strongest resolve.

He clings to you, arms wrapped around your midsection as he drives in hard and fast.  Squelches and wet slaps ring out in tandem with his whines, and then the telltale circular grinding starts and–

“Oh god!”

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you keen at the sharp sting.  His whole body locks like a board against yours, muscles flexed and breath held tight until its staleness overpowers him into a loud exhale and desperate, shuddering gulps of air.  You pepper kisses against the side of his head as best you can. His hands grasp your thighs.

Wesker pushes against you slowly, milking the last ebb and flow of bliss from his climax.  He falls limp against you and, after some time, you’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep, but then he lifts himself just enough to press lazy wet kisses to your lips.  He suckles your lower lip sweetly, giving it the softest nip before letting off and moving down, littering more affections to every inch.  Neck, collarbones, chest, navel– the only complaint you’ve got is that he had to slip out to keep going, but you figure the trade off was perfectly fine when those lips wrap around your clit and–

“Al!”  You gasp, incisor sinking into your lower lip, hands coming down to thread in his silky locks, petting and pulling.  “You– you don’t have to– mmph!”  Your head falls back and you see stars.  Fuck, he’d gotten you all stirred up before and he’s got you back there in mere moments.  Each drag of his tongue erupts your flesh in goosebumps, and then–  “I– oh fuck!”  He slurps your cunt loudly and you know exactly what he’s after.  The thought alone is enough to make you buck against him, but then those long fingers of his find their way inside and you keen and whine and cry out for him over and over again.

“Mine.” He groans against you.

He coaxes your sweet spot with gentle curling motions, but you know it’s more than that.  This isn’t just him seeking to ensure you get yours.  No.  Right now, he’s eating the proof of your love from between your legs and savoring the salty sweet taste of your combined juices.  Each swipe of his fingers draws his seed from deep within and he moans with every tantalizing taste.  

The thought alone is enough to put you right on the doorstep of a mind blowing orgasm, but it’s his noises that drive you over the edge entirely.  Bucking and whining and mewling, you cry out his name and gasp your love into the air.  But he doesn’t stop. His tongue rubs circles to your bud over and over again, switching out to suckle and swirl and slurp more of you until you’re so overstimulated that the only thing you can do is moan and push his face away from your aching cunt.

His lips are back on yours in a flash, tongue licking your own taste into your mouth.  His fingers lace with yours and draw your hands up over your head.  Wesker pulls away just enough to observe you, but he doesn’t flash that typical smirk of his.  There’s no victory plastered on his face.  No smugness.

Instead, he smiles sweetly and shifts to lay beside you, tugging your body to fit against his like a puzzle piece.  “I do rather like this new rule of ours,” he murmurs against the nape of your neck. “Thank you, my dear…”

You hum and turn in his hold, letting your hand trail up the length of his arm.  “You okay?”  Sure, it kills the afterglow a bit.  And yes, he’s going to deny having been upset earlier.  It’s what he does.  But you can’t ignore that it happened.

“...yes.”  He lies.  “My apologies for waking you.”

You sigh and give him your usual look so he knows that you know better.  “I love you,” you say, craning your neck to press a featherlight kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “That’s always real… I promise.”

He regards you with a set jaw and pained eyes, but ultimately presses a firm kiss to your forehead.  “Sleep,” he huffs. “You talk far too much.”

You giggle and nuzzle his chest, content to do as he commands.  Besides, you know that’s how he says it back.

gentle (18+)

hello! i was kind of stumbling through this so im worried it might not be good! like always, criticism is welcome ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

cw; dubcon due to non-verbal consent, re1 wesker, marriage/long term relationship implied, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff not gonna lie, afab reader, soft dom wesker, clitoral stimulation, he's obsessed with you, praise (reader receiving), temperature difference cus he's a human icicle, creampie (x1), a bit of a breeding kink, very lovey and soft wesker

petnames (reader received); dearest, my dove, darling, dearheart, little dove, good girl, sweet thing, greedy girl

albert's gentle with you because he still has his humanity intact. sure, he's not completely sane either, but he doesn't want to drive you away. without uroboros or even the prototype virus, he's strong, and intimidating. his military training has hardened him, and he's tired of being stern and strict at both jobs.

to initiate, he'll typically come to you while you're both winding down for the night. maybe you're patting your face dry after washing it and he comes in the bathroom to hold you from behind. you set the towel aside and acknowledge his presence with a simple "hello, my love," and a small smile. your hands come up to

"hi, dearest," he murmurs, his hand coasting along your abdomen and up to settle on your sternum, pressing you back against his chest so you're flush.

"you're gorgeous," he says between kisses down your neck, his voice a little lower. despite his cold hands, he never fails to make you feel warm in your gut, the subtle purr of arousal making your blood flow south. you're blushing something fierce, making eye contact with him through the mirror. he does tower over you some. you can feel his erection against the small of your back, your own arousal heightening. the hand on his sternum moves to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple so he can watch how your breathing changes, how your heart beats faster and your face flushes red.

he's so in love with you it almost hurts. he loves the way you press your ass back against him, grinding as an attempt to soothe the ache in your cunt. the ache that only he could ever cause, no less, in the few years you've been together. his other hand finds its way into your underwear, fingers cold but deft as he dips them between your wettened folds to gather the sticky fluid and circle your pulsing clit. you become putty in his arms, your hands practically useless at your sides. your knees turn to jelly, little whines of satisfaction leaving you.

"so, so gorgeous." he croons, the hand cupping your breast simply kneading as he rubs your clit with two cold fingers. he's a sucker for praising you, truthfully, and he loves the way you become red in the face. your face is hot, his dull blue eyes boring holes in your own. it's as though the eye contact makes him more excited, even if the look in his eyes is bone-chilling. his breath is warm against your neck, words of praise and love leaving his pale lips. he presses down a bit more firmly on your clit, his fingers moving quicker to bring you closer to your release. your moans grow louder, your legs threatening to crumble beneath you.

when you do cum, he talks you through it. your hands scramble to grab the edge of the bathroom countertop, your knees buckling under you from the force of your orgasm. your vision is starry at the peak

"i'm here, my dove. lean on me, darling. that's it. you did so well for me, didn't you? yes, you did. my wonderful girl." he murmurs, retracting his hand from your underwear as he peppers kisses to your cheek as you recover. he licks his fingers clean of your cum and strokes your hair with his clean hand, waiting for you to be able to stand again. when you're steady again you tap his arm and he lets you go.

he washes his hands and starts his own nightly routine. you perch yourself on the bathroom countertop and watch him, your head and heart muddled with love and a bit of residual pleasure. every now and then his eyes wander over to you, the subtlest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth. you'll run a hand through his hair as he rubs his moisturizer in (he takes care of his skin you can't tell me otherwise), your nails gently scratching the base of his head.

"your hair is getting long." you murmur, playing with the whispy ends.

"too long, dear?" suddenly, he's a bit self-conscious. what if his hair is too long and you decide you hate it? maybe you'll decide that one day, you don't like him anymore. maybe you already have? nervous and trying to hide it, his gaze returns to his own face.

"no, not too long. you could definitely pull off longer hair if you wanted to give it a try." you let your hand drop into your lap and he nods, feeling conflicted and honestly very silly. regardless, he leans over and pecks your lips. his timidity is rare, exceedingly so for a man like him, and it only ever pops up around you. like you're the only one who can get in his head, make him squirm. he may not admit it, but you are.

"good to know. thank you, darling." he takes your hand and helps you off of the bathroom counter, that same hand slipping to the small of your back as the two of you walk to bed. you have other plans.

you make that apparent when you sit at the edge of your king-sized mattress, black sheets crinkling slightly, and look up at him. it's clear that you want something. he raises an eyebrow at you.

"what's this, dear?" he cups your jaw with one hand and strokes your hair with the other. icy eyes roam your own for an answer, but to no avail.

"you didn't get yours earlier." you push his hands away and for a moment he looks offended. his expression falters when you grab his hips and kiss his lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his boxers. he sputters, taking a step back when you reach for his boxers, his hands raising in what seems like defense..

"darling, that's not necessary." he insists, but the way you're looking at him makes his blood roar in his ears, his heart thump faster in his chest. you grab his hands instead and pull him close again. you move back on the bed and pull him with you, gentle like you're guiding him.

hesitant, he crawls on top of you.

"are you sure?" he asks, eyes roaming over you in your cute your hands cup his cheeks, your gaze warm as it roams his face. his cheeks are tinted pink, one of his hands runs over your stomach and along your waist. he hooks his thumb under your silk sleep shirt and slowly pulls it up past your chest. he glances up at you, then at your tits as he cups them. he tweaks one nipple as he ducks his head down to lap and suckle at the other.

your whines, spilling from you so easily, are his favorite noise to draw from you. a dull throb in your clit draws your attention, the familiar ache in your pussy returning with a vengeance and you attempt to clench your thighs together in hopes to mute it. you'd like to hurry, but albert hates being rushed. you know that more than anyone, that he'll take his time with you like you were a painting and absorb every detail.

you tug on his hair, adamant and desperate to get him inside of you to soothe the ache that's only worsening the longer you're without something to fill you. he pulls back upon your request

"al, darling, please." he kisses you in the gentle way he always does, the hand on your waist cupping your cheek. when he breaks away, he looks conflicted. he does want to make you happy- that's all he ever wants to do for you- but he's tempted to drag this out for as long as possible.

"alright, dear. in a moment, just be patient. i know you can." he pecks your lips again, quick and sweet and undeniably hungry. his cock is painfully hard in the thin confines of his boxers, aching to be inside you the way you need him to be.

"lift your hips, little dove." he's met with obedience and he works your pajama bottoms off, a hungry smile on his lips the moment he sees the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. his cock twitches at the sight, aches to feel those walls clench and flutter around him. he slides your panties down to your ankles, then pulls his boxers off. he hooks your legs around his waist, pulling you flush with him

"honey," you whine softly as he leans down to kiss you, simultaneously teasing your slickened cunt with the tip of his cock, a soft grunt escaping him. slowly, he presses the tip in your tight, warm entrance. you whine against his lips as he moans against yours, your weeping pussy sucking him in so nicely.

"so perfect. your cunt was made for me." he murmurs when he breaks the kiss, fully hilted inside you. with how big he is, his cock kisses the tip of your cervix and stretches you out thoroughly. you flutter around him at the praise, even more when he starts thrusting with a gentle desperation only you draw out of him. your head spins, feeling so full and yet craving more at the same time.

the heat on your cheeks matches his own. he's always been such a blushy mess when it comes to missionary, but can you blame him? the expression you make with your eyes half-lidded, lips parted in pleasure, your brows furrowed. his hands find your waist, his cold fingers gripping you tight. the velvet walls of your cunt do things to his head, makes all reasoning go out the window as he pumps his cock into you faster and faster, sacrificing all need to be gentle. though surprised at this, you love it. a similar fog fills your head and your hands move to his back, your nails digging into his skin hard when he wraps an arm around your waist, angling your hips differently.

"that's it, take it all like the good girl you are." he croons, his eyes locked on your face as he angles his hips to brush his cock against that spongy spot amongst velvet walls. you visbly light up with pleasure when he does, your nails breaking the skin of his back by mistake. you know he's only going slow to drag this out, but with the way he's bullying your cunt, you don't know how long you're going to last. each thrust fogs your mind more until you're a moaning, whimpering mess for him. you tighten around him, trying to take more despite him being balls deep already.

"such a greedy girl, my sweet thing… you're going to cum, aren't you?" you nod meekly, biting your bottom lip harder when he thumbs your clit, nearly drawing blood.

"words, dearest. use your words for me." he slows his thumb down to gentle strokes, his cold skin against yours making you hypervigilant of his touch.

"m'gonna cum- i-is that okay? can i?" you struggle to get your words out, interrupted by small gasps of your own as he pistons his cock into the spongy bundle of nerves within you.

he's smiling to himself, enjoying how eager and sweet you are, despite the circumstances. he's close himself, only disguising it until you get yours.

"go on, sweet girl, cum for me." he circles your clit faster once more, causing you to fall apart at the seams. your orgasm is intense, your hips spasming in the desperate chase for more of the white-hot ecstasy running through your blood. you feel hot at your peak, a cry of his name leaving your irritated and puffy lips, before you relax with the comedown. being the good lover he is, he coaxes you through it with soft words and gentle touches.

"that's it, pretty girl. my perfect girl. i love you."

"i love you too." you manage to say despite your hazy state, a weak smile on your pretty lips.

he wraps your legs around his waist as he cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, kissing you slowly so you're not overwhelmed. you're a mess of nothing but your own slick, his cock buried deep inside you. the lower half of his abdomen is drenched with your cum, dripping down his pelvis and thighs. your legs are unsteady and wobbly, shaking in their place.

"al," you break the kiss. the restraint he's showing is visible on his face, especially in the way he's furrowing his eyebrows, "keep going if you need to. i can take it, i promise." he nods, though worried about hurting you somehow. he likes this position much more- he's already close as is, and all he can think about is filling your womb with his kids.

he doesn't speak as he starts thrusting into you again, quick and precise yet surprisingly harsh movements into your overly sensitive cunt. and yet you're still so wet for him, your cunt weeping for more. you can hardly think, let alone tell him how good you feel.

he kisses you hard, his cum filling you up so nicely, you'll be thinking about it for days. he groans against your lips, licking into your mouth. the familiar taste of tobacco from his tongue, his seed inside you, the remnants of his colonge flooding your senses, all overwhelming you. your heart flutters. he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he recovers.

"are you okay, dearheart?" he brings a hand up to fix your shirt and kisses the corners of your lips. tired, yet content, you nod softly and kiss him again. he hums quietly and cups your cheek, his mind still a touch fuzzy. the blush from his cheeks has yet to fade, and likely won't for another hour.

one hand on your waist squeezes you and he pulls back from the kiss to pull out of you, then get off the bed. he grabs you a fresh pair of underwear and pajama pants for himself. he steps into the pants while you sit up and take the underwear from him to put on.

"you know i love you, right?" you say as the two of you lie down, his strong hands pulling you flush against his chest with your back facing him.

"i know, dove. i love you just as much." he wraps an arm around your waist, getting comfortable as the big spoon. tired, he lets his eyes flutter shut. you pull the sheets up and over the two of you, hiking them up to your waist, then follow suit in closing your eyes,

Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  

So thick, so full… 

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!” 

You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?

Never knew I needed you so bad; S.T.A.R.S Wesker

Chris cheats on the reader, Wesker saves the day (and touches you better than Chris ever did).

Warnings: Cheater!Chris, smut/NSFW.

NSFW: Choking, thigh-riding, making out, hair pulling oral (m!receiving), fingering. Please let me know if I forgot anything else :D

The relationship between you and Chris had always been difficult, to say the least. Constant arguments, distance outside of work, and so on had it a tough one, and perhaps that was why you weren’t entirely shocked at the events that unfolded that night.

It was one of those nights where the S.T.A.R.S crew - minus Captain Wesker who had told you a simple ‘perhaps’ when you had asked if he would be joining later - had ventured out into the public and gone to a bar.

Whilst Chris favoured being sat at the bar with Brad, you instead favoured sitting in a booth away from the masses of people to talk to Jill, unaware of Chris talking to a blonde-haired woman rather than Brad as they shared a drink.

It wasn’t unusual for Chris to talk to people at a bar, of course, and it never would have bothered you before. That was until you glanced around to look for your boyfriend, only to see him lip-locked with someone that wasn’t you.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but damn, it still hurt, especially when you watched him pull away with a smile rather than a look of regret.

You were embarrassed, upset, but most of all, you were hurt, all whilst Jill watched you cycle through emotions after witnessing the event in real time.

“I’m leaving, sorry…” you whispered to your friend who gave you an understanding nod and a pat on the shoulder before walking you to the door and wishing you a good night before she left, walking over to yell at Chris who was soon rushing out of the door.

“Y/N!” He called, catching your attention. You turned to him for a moment before rolling your eyes and turning away, looking for a vacant cab. “Baby, please. I didn’t mean to.”

It was at that moment that you spotted your Captain approaching.

“Chris, I really don’t want to hear your excuses. We are done, just leave.”

Wesker had reached you both by now yet stood silently.

“Baby, c’mon, just hear me out.” Chris pleaded, but all you could see was the lipstick marks that littered his neck.

“No, I don’t think I will. I came out for a fun night, and you left me to make out with another woman.” You spat, unaware of the way Wesker was glaring at Chris as you spoke beneath his usual sunglasses.

Chris paused, blushing upon realising his Captain was currently watching the altercation.

“I believe this conversation should be over. Perhaps you should leave, Chris.” Wesker interrupted before you could cuss Chris out even more, even if he did deserve it.

Chris simply nodded, heading back inside.

“Thank you,” you whispered once Chris was left. You smiled up at Wesker who simply nodded.

“Allow me to drive you home.”

There was no arguing with Wesker, you knew that much, so you simply smiled again. “All right.”

The drive was quiet, yet comfortable oddly enough. Captain Wesker was a man of few words, and he was clearly deep in thought, so you didn’t wish to bother him unless he spoke to you.

“Chris did not deserve you,” he said, not taking his eyes from the road.

Your gaze moved to him, taking in the sight of him as he drove. His grip on the wheel was tight, veins popping from his arms. You weren’t entirely sure why he was clutching the wheel so hard, however. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform either, understandably so, of course. Instead, he wore a white shirt, jeans, and a black coat. It was a good look on him, really good, you thought to yourself before cursing yourself for thinking so; you and your boyfriend had just broken up.

“You think so?”

Wesker nodded. “I know so.” He replied.

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled sadly, eyes slowly moving back to looking out of the window.

“Albert is fine right now, and there is no need to thank me.” Wesker finally looked at you, taking a deep breath to compose himself as he did so. Maybe he liked you more than he should, but that was irrelevant, and not to mention a complete waste of his time; it could also ruin his plans. “We are here.”

You nodded at his words as he pulled into the parking space outside your home, undoing his seatbelt.

“Allow me to walk you to your door.” He said, looking over at you as you wordlessly nodded again.

You two silently walked to the door, Wesker watching as you pulled your keys from your bag with shaking hands. He wasn’t entirely sure whether you were shaking due to the breakup or his presence, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued about which it was.

As you opened the door to your home, flicking the lights on, you paused for a moment, facing your Captain.

It was a bad idea, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it as the words fell from your lips.

“Do you want to come in?”

Wesker paused at the offer, clearly caught off guard; he knew what you meant.

“I shouldn’t,” came his response. He swallowed. “I shouldn’t.” He repeated. Whether he was trying to convince you or himself, he did not know.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry,”

Wesker hesitated, taking a deep breath before leaning forward to place a rough kiss on your lips, your eyes widening as he did so.

His hand landed on your shoulder, thumb caressing your neck as he continued kissing you. Your hands reached his own shoulders, pulling him closer as he walked into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind you both.

Was it a bad idea? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

The moment the door slammed shut, one of his hands fell to your waist, lifting the fabric of your t-shirt just enough to slide his hand to feel your skin. His hands were cold, leaving goosebumps at the touch.

He squeezed at your waist, his thumb that was caressing your neck moving to hold your jaw as he pulled away to breathe, spit falling from both your lips.

You panted, eyes wide as he stared at you beneath his glasses, both of your hands on each other. Your hand moved to his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. He removed his hands from you for a moment to slip off his coat, tossing it to the floor without a care in the world before both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back into a kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, drawing a moan from you and he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Without a warning, he spun you around, shoving you against the wall, one of his hands pressed against the wall beside your head whilst the other slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your torso and beneath your bra to grab at your breast. As he toyed with your hardening bud, your hands moved to fiddle with his belt.

He pulled back. “If you are going to do that, I suggest you show me where your bedroom is, dear,” Wesker said.

You blushed at the nickname, stuttering out a simple follow me before leading him to your room, his hand on your lower back as his followed.

Neither of you bothered to shut the door as his lips met yours again in a sloppy kiss whilst you pulled him by his shirt to your bed, feeling him guide you to lay on the mattress once you reached it.

Wesker’s lips moved from yours to your neck, sucking at the skin in a way you knew would leave marks; you didn’t care, you only cared about him right now.

His scent was overpowering your senses, soft moans falling from your lips. Your hands reached up to tug at his hair while his knee moved to press against your core, and he smirked as he felt you grind against him.

You were completely at his mercy, and he was loving every second.

“Good girl,” he muttered into your neck, placing a kiss before speaking again. “Get yourself off on my thigh.” His voice was deep and laced with lust.

You nodded eagerly as you desperately began rutting against him, hands landing on his firm shoulders whilst his moved to remove your shirt. His touch was cold against your warm skin, fingers lightly dancing along your torso as he lifted your shirt above your head before discarding it.

Wesker’s hand came to grasp your chin, thumb running across your lower lip. A smirk formed on his lips as your lips instantly parted, allowing him to shove his thumb inside your mouth. He watched beneath his sunglasses as you began sucking on his digit, occasionally circling it with your tongue; God, he wanted to feel you on his cock.

As though reading his mind, your grinding halted and your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his toned torso, before one hand moved to undo his belt and the other began massaging his cock. Wesker’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, unaware of your gaze on him. He wanted… no, he needed you. He had for the longest time, and with Chris out of the way, he was free to make you all his.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, dear,” he muttered into your ear, and he truly meant it.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered at his deep voice, his breath hitting your ear.

“Please?”

“Please, sir,”

Wesker smirked at your obedience. “Good girl,”

A blush ran up your cheeks as you climbed onto your knees, hands landing on your Captain’s shoulders to guide him to lay against your mattress. He watched closely, freeing himself from the restraints of his clothing, leaving him only in his shirt which you were quick to unbutton, revealing his abs.

Your hand trailed from his cheek, dancing across his visible collar bones, down his stomach, and to his freed cock. Wesker’s own hand moved to entangle itself in your hair, grasping it in a way to keep the strands from your face as you leaned down, taking the tip into your mouth, tongue circling.

With a gentleness that he didn’t know he had in him, Wesker lowered your head further onto his dick, head leaning backwards in pleasure as your tongue ran down him as he did so, your cheeks occasionally hollowing in a way that had a quiet groan falling from his lips. His hand tugged on your hair, a moan falling from your lips and vibrating his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and laced with lust, and his head thrown back.

With each movement of your tongue, Wesker’s grip on your hair became tighter as he occasionally tugged on the strands. Perhaps it was to make you moan on his cock, or maybe it was to keep some semblance of power whilst you were ruining him with your mouth.

Applying a light pressure to your head, he watched as you bobbed your head further down his length, doing your best to take as much of him as possible. The moment he hit the back of your throat, he swore he could have came just from your gag.

“Just like that. Good girl,” despite him fucking your mouth, Wesker couldn’t resist gently stroking your hair with his thumb at which you hummed, sending vibrations and pleasure through his body.

You pulled back, an innocent smile on your swollen lips as he stared at you. Your hands reached up to remove his sunglasses, smiling sweetly as you did so – he almost smiled back – to reveal his beautiful eyes.

Wesker was quick to press his lips against yours once again, flipping you beneath him with a strength you never expected him to possess. His unbuttoned shirt brushed against your naked stomach and covered chest.

“I think we should remove this,” Wesker’s hand moved the front of your chest, “don’t you, pet?” Without a warning, his hands tugged on your bra, ripping it in half and tossing it God only knows where.

“I liked that one,” you whined.

Wesker moved to nibble at your ear before speaking. “I’ll buy you another, don’t worry, or maybe I’ll just keep you as my little pet and you won’t need one, hm?" You blushed at the thought.

A moan left your lips as his mouth quickly moved from your ear to bite at your neck, darkening the marks he had left earlier; he wanted Chris to realise how lucky he had been.

“C-Captain,” you shuddered, and he froze at the title.

Wesker pulled back, staring at you with such an intensity that you worried you had done something wrong as he tightly gripped your chin.

“Say that again,” he demanded, the noise only making your panties even wetter.

“Captain,”

He smirked, leaning close to your lips in a way that had you believing that he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t, even when you leaned in. Instead, his breath hit your lips as he muttered, good girl, staring down at you with lust-filled eyes before finally kissing you.

A harsh bite to your lower lip had your mouth opening, his tongue instantly finding its way into your mouth, melding with your own. You moaned into his mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat, gently squeezing, gauging your reaction. When you leaned into his grip, he tightened it.

One hand landed on top of his that was around your throat. You weren’t pulling him away – you didn’t want him to stop – you clearly just wanted to touch him; he almost smirked.

Combined spit connected both your parted lips as he pulled away, hand still wrapped around your throat.

“Do you like that?” He asked, tightening his grip again.

You nodded.

“Use your words, pet,” he said, loosening his grip just long enough for you to respond.

“Yes, sir,”

This time he smirked, grip tightening again.

Wesker’s free hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, thumb beginning to circle your clit, your head throwing backwards against the cushion as he did so, eyes fluttering shut. He watched you closely, enjoying the sight in front of him. God, you were beautiful. How did he resist you for so long?

His finger dipped beneath your slit, gathering wetness before gently pushing one digit in. He wasn’t sure when the last time you had been touched was and he definitely did not want to hurt you. He was planning to ruin you for everyone else, not ruin you in general. He was determined to make you only want him after this.

A loud moan left you fell from your lips as his fingers entered you, his thumb still toying with your sensitive bud. Touching you was easy with how wet you were, fingers moving slowly with ease until he was satisfied that you were ready for another finger which was all you seemed to need.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, breathless and sweating. “I’m close.”

“Wasn’t planning to, dear,” he muttered, placing an uncharacteristic gentle kiss on your shoulder as he continued his movements. “Go on, cum for me. Be a good pet and cum on my fingers.” His words were all you needed to push you over the edge, eyes shooting open and stars filling your vision as you covered his fingers in your slick juices.

Wesker hummed in approval, pulling his fingers away and placing them on your lips. He watched in satisfaction as you parted your lips, cleaning his fingers for him.

“So good for me,” his praise had you blushing, looking away shyly. “Don’t look away from me.” He said, tilting your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Wesker leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Get some rest, dear,” he said, an almost visible smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But what about you?” You said, guilt filling you as you realised that he didn’t cum.

He paused for a moment, shaking his head as though it was a stupid question.

“Tonight was about you, don’t worry about me.”

“B-but-“

“No buts,” he looked at you with a stern face, one that had you silence immediately and nod. “I’ll be here in the morning if you still want to help.”

Your eyes widened at his words, having expected him to leave afterwards. You froze and he shook his head in amusement, a smirk covering his lips.

“Yes, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused again. “You can’t get rid of me now.”

You said you wanted some domestic moments so here you go~

Wesker cooking for you. He's memorized your tastes, your icks, your favourite foods, etc. And he likes to make most things from scratch. You like when you come home and you can join him in the kitchen, watching him work. Imagine him teaching you your favourite recipes of his - Wesker hovering around your shoulder as you work, teasing you when you make small mistakes, perhaps you getting flour all over eachother (it's a cliché for a reason, flour gets everywhere) and the likes.

Eventually, home starts smelling like the meals he makes you.

bio-terrorist by day, gourmet cook by night.

god the flour bit is ALWAYS so cute, too. just imagine booping his nose with a little bit of flour on your fingertip. maybe he doesn't realize it was there and walks around like that for a minute before your giggles alert him to what you'd done (if it were me, it's flour handprints on his ass in a heartbeat lmAOO) this would be one of those moments where he's perhaps a little stiff at first but ends up reciprocating the absurdity a bit later when he bites back his inhibitions enough to loosen up.

how precious would it be if he had a partner who was awful at cooking and subsisted off of like, box mac and cheese or something? at first he scowls at your dietary choices and demands you do better for yourself. he might even scoff when you insist that a frozen microwave meal is the best you can do (it's not, you're just being chaotic). later, you wake up from a nap to the faint sound of sizzling and a delicious aroma wafting through your home. and, because i'm an absolute sucker for this, when you go out to investigate, wesker doesn't even bother explaining himself, he just holds up a spoonful of whatever he made for you to try. bonus points if he lifts the lid from a boiling pot and his sunglasses fog up

also