#resident evil 5 fanfiction

[happy74827]

Conflicted, Yet Certain

[Albert Wesker x Agent!Female!Reader]

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

WC: 2611

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

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

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

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

『••✎••』

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

"I asked you a question,"

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

"What, are you afraid?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I won't do it."

"Excuse me?"

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

"I won't do it. And you can't make me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not afraid of you."

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

"Oh, I'm well aware."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do it again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, reality set back in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What had you done?

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

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

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

Goddamn it, what had you done?!

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

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

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

Or two.

Or three.

Damn it… What the hell had you done?

[dollita-fawn]

I need Wesker with baby fever >///<

𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐱 🝮 (part 2 here!)

pairings- Husband! Wesker x Fem! Reader

a/n- Ik this is super short but i wanted to leave an opening for a possible part 2 so…

𝐂𝐰- mostly fluff and stuff, smut towards the end(more like hcs), unprotected sex obv, breeding kink ❦

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wesker wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of having children. You’ve discussed it many times throughout the course of your marriage, but he always thought of it as an impossible lifestyle.

The man was a workaholic, to put it lightly. He hardly had time for you or even himself. How would he care for a child as well? The world he inhabits, as he sees it, isn’t fit for a child. Nor was he fit to raise one.

His upbringing —if you could even call it that— wasn’t one that taught affection or the caring of others. How was he supposed to love another when he hardly understood his love for you? There was no way he could achieve the role of a loving father.

Wake up, go to work, come home to you. That was the loop routine he stuck to for the past few years.

But lately, things have shifted.

He’s actually started to take time off of work just to spend the day with you. He finds himself wanting to be near you at all times. Especially since you’ve mentioned feeling lonely while he’s away.

Wesker’s always been a bit aloof and distant even in the way he shows his love for you, but recently he seems to have the need to protect you.

He’s begun worrying that he's been pushing you away for far too long, that you may be feeling neglected and overlooked in this relationship. He's even started to overthink about you finding someone else who can provide the love and support that he has failed to do for so long.

Despite your husband’s many flaws and his tendency to hide his true feelings behind his colder facade, you’ve always been the one constant in his life. You’ve managed to love him through all of his ups and downs, no matter how hard he tried to push you away or how selfish he was being.

He’s finally come to realize just how much your love means to him and how much he’s taken you for granted over the years. He now finally understands that he can’t go through life without you by his side.

He has no idea what made him suddenly start feeling this way, but he can’t deny that the love he feels for you has suddenly become much deeper and more intense than ever before.

What used to be a feeling akin to contentedness has now been replaced with a genuine desire for more. He's started to view you in a new, more nurturing light, one that's making him want to protect and provide for you more than ever.

He finds himself thinking often about what it would feel like to have a tiny piece of both of you running around the house.

He catches himself staring at you, wondering how beautiful you’d look with a tiny bump in your stomach. The thought fills him with joy and a sense of security that he’s never felt before.

At first, it was just a few small comments here and there about how he wouldn’t mind having a little him. Now, its become this obsession that drives him mad.

He’s been researching online about baby names, taking his time in the store to consider the prices of possible toys, cribs, and the adorable miniature clothes.

The sudden desire for a child is growing inside of him like some dark force he cannot understand or explain.

Maybe it’s something that comes with aging. All he knows for sure is it's eating inside of him, gnawing on his soul.

The thought of failure is a constant concern, still he knows he needs to get it out into the open. But how? A million ways to address the topic flash through his mind as he struggles with how to tell you that he wants to have a family with you when you both previously agreed you could do without.

When his consistent hints go over your head, he starts to get a little more direct.

“You should stop taking your birth control.” he says out of nowhere as you lay in bed about to sleep. You turn to face him, reading his face of urgency.

“Let’s have a baby…I mean, if you’re alright with it.” he quickly corrects himself, trying to be more open with the subject. “I’ve been looking into it. I think we could make it work.” He looks at you almost anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

When he notices the smile that plays at your lips, he feels a weight come off of him. “Let’s have a baby.” you agree.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, genuinely happy at your approval for the idea. He had no reason to be nervous about asking you. You always just understood him, like you were on the same wavelength.

He pulls you close, letting you rest your head against his chest and you listen to the rapid acceleration of his heart.

Your breathing syncs with his, lulling you to sleep in his arms.

Once he’s sure you’re asleep, he gets more comfortable. “I love you,” he whispers softly, making sure not to disturb you before closing his eyes himself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Going forward, you both decided on letting your body go back to its natural state after you stopped taking the pill. Wesker wanted everything to happen perfectly. So you started keeping track of when you were ovulating as well.

And once you were, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Every chance you had, you’d be fucking like rabbits. Wherever, whatever time of day. He wasn’t going to risk any missed opportunities. And he wasn’t going to give up until you were swollen, carrying his child.

He pumps every last bit of his seed into you every time you make love. If any spills, he’ll stuff in back in, whether it be with his cock itself or a toy. Not a single drop could go to waste.

He’d even make you walk around all day with it still inside you. Didn’t matter where you were or how uncomfortable it might be.

He’d breed you full every night, always trying the recommended positions he read about online. His favorite being the one with you flat on your stomach, letting him take you from behind.

He loves being on top in general, but with you in that arrangement, he can reach further in and pour into your depths.

While he enjoyed himself doing so, he always made sure to take care of your needs as well.

He uses his fingers to trap his cum inside. Meanwhile his tongue laps and sucks at your clit. He glides his tongue round and round until you’re pulsing around his fingers, legs shaking and voice whining helplessly from the intensity of your climax.

When he’s finished with you, he’ll make you suck his fingers clean, crooning you back to a relaxed state.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’re both ecstatic when your period is officially late after weeks of attempts.

You’ve never seen the man look so giddy. He stands outside of the bathroom door anxiously awaiting results as you go to take a pregnancy test.

Even if they weren’t always accurate, the hope was still there. He would take you to the doctor to be sure later on either way.

You both stare at it, waiting for the strip to change. Wesker hardly even blinks as he waits. He never thought he’d be here, wishing for a kid. But he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He would try again and again, no matter the turnout.

[saintgoths]

ꜱᴍᴜᴅɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀꜱᴄᴀʀᴀ

ADA WONG, BELA DIMITRESCU, ELLIE WILLIAMS AND LADY.

THANK YOU FOR 600+ FOLLOWERS NOW HERE'S SOME WLW ACTION.

WARNING - NASTY SEX, STRAP USING, BITING, TRIBBING, PUSSY EATING, MUMMY KINK, 69 AND SCISSORING.

P!LINKS!

ADA WONG

You hadn’t remembered the last time someone else had made you feel like this, and you had hated the fact that the only person who could reach so deep inside of you and have you craving for more was the same woman you had sworn off from not seeing.

Ada Wong.

The mystique, the enigma.

The woman you had an on and off relationship with, the same woman who’d leave for weeks without saying another word to you, disappear into the world as if she was mist, a woman made of the very same air you’d choke on whenever a thrust from the toy she had worn had pummelled deep inside of you, she had you in a twisted position, face down and your buttocks staring up at her while she smoothed her hands against your skin before she had left it with one last slap.

You had jerked once you had felt the connection, teary-eyed as the strap vibrated against your walls, you had shuddered and flinched every time you had felt the tip of the cock lick deeper inside of you, you didn’t know what you were saying and didn’t realise how much you had cried in bliss. Your mascara smudged and voice trembled as she pulled you into a fountain of orgasms, Ada’s voice talking to you as she purred how much of a good girl you were, always coming back to her and being the adorable pet, you had silently promised her to be.

“Yes!” You had foolishly cried out. “Yes!” You had now been vocal on how you had belonged to her, Ada had known that side of you would come out soon, how slick and tactful she was, as if she was in your mind stroking and egging you on to point out how much you were hers.

“Good girl, say it again for me, say that you’re mine,” Ada moaned as she could feel her high attempt to cut through her, she had tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth, the pearl of her cunt slick and swollen as the vibration of the adult toy pulsated and quivered against her skin, she had rolled her eyes back, her slender digits caught up in your hair as she pulled herself closer to her, her naked chest against your bare and glossy back as she continued to pump the cock inside of you.

Her lips quivered before it had been pressed against your shoulders, she had left sloppy kisses against the wings of your body while she could feel her motions become more jerked. “Ada!” You had cried out, “I’m gonna---oh!” You squealed as your cunt tightened around the object, your body had trembled while your nails dug into the damp bed sheets, as your back had arched deeply as your juices painted the cock, you could feel Ada’s teeth dig into your shoulder, leaving her mark as she muffled her cries, her cum staining the strap that she had pulled out of you.

She had rolled to her back as she released a big sigh while she turned off the strap, you had laid beside her, eyes trained on the ceiling that had dimly lit the area, arm above your head while you had barely looked at her, though, had been aware with how her dark eyes focused on you. “Gonna leave now?” You whispered and as kickback, you felt the way her body shuffled on bed, in thought that she was getting ready to leave, you had been surprised when she wrapped her left arm around your upper torso,

“No,” she replied as she left a kiss against the sharpness of your jaw. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

REFERENCE

BELA DIMITRESCU

She had stared up at you, fingers stiff against your hips while her eyes glinted in a humour that had challenged you, she had known what you had wanted, what you had desired and she had brief moments of giving it to you, and you were so close to it. As if you were a naïve child pointing your hand towards the sun claiming you almost caught it, dominance.

Her citrine coloured eyes had been shadowed as the slick wetness of both of your cunts had shaded above each other, you had licked the back of your lower teeth, you had known she had also wanted it, wanted you to dominate her the way she’d handle you, so you had taken it, had pressed yourself against her, and had watched the way she had moved.

Bela didn’t close her eyes but you saw the way her eyes adjusted as she held back a moan. So, you had leaned forward and kissed her, both of your blood-stained mouths mixed with each other as the sweet aroma of the scarlet liquid had trembled a moan out of her. You had been smooth with the way you wrapped your hand around her neck, there had been a soft heat, as if fire had been slowly melting an ice cave, you had slipped your tongue inside of your mouth and she had gasped, her hands slipped to your buttocks.

You had moved yourself forward and as an echo the slimy and sticky sounds of both of your mixed nectar had been pronounced, she had shuddered, there had been a small fight in her as she gently bucked her hips forward, but you had pressed her down while you had kissed her hard. A high moaned had passed through her lips as you had begun to pick up the pace, her eyes now shut as she had taken in the pleasure that had shifted between her thighs, she had squealed in your mouth as your swollen pearls circled around each other, and once she had tilted her head back, you had attacked her neck with kisses.

You had nibbled and sucked as you could feel her tight cunt throb against yours. “Yes, right there!” She cried out, her moans reflected against the walls, her cries in scales higher compared to her natural tone, thus you had smirked, you had been rough, but there was still an essence of care with the way you had touched her, the way your hands cupped her breasts and circled her inflamed nipples as her back drowned against the bed, she had shook against you and her positioned her hearth in a better angle, she had wanted more, she had wanted it harder, and you saw it with the way she had looked at you.

With much lust and hunger, you had now had both hands wrapped around her throat as you continued to fuck her. “Like that baby?” You had questioned, your inquire enough to have her look at you with doe eyes, eyes she would barely look people with, just for you.

“G’nna cum! Oh baby! Oh!” She screamed as she curled her toes, “Gonna cum!” She echoed as her juices squirted out, her nectar had drenched the both of you, aimed in distances she’d never thought she could do, you had continued to move, adamant to let her go you had chased for your high and pulled your head backwards as you had grunted in inconsistent patterns while Bela continued to cry in bliss under you. “Yes!” She quivered as she could feel herself release one last time, with you, she had orgasmed again before she collapsed her limbs against her bed.

You had smiled while you pulled your used cunt away from her, had pressed your mouth against hers before you had spoken. “On a scale from one to ten, how angry is your mother going to be with me?”

Bela had smirked at you before she replied. “A thousand.”

REFERENCE

ELLIE WILLIAMS

She had been so ludicrous, desperate and empty when she didn’t have her face between your thighs, she had tried. Tired to stay away from you but you were a Siren, a Lorelei, Lilith herself.

She had moaned as her hand coated her soaked cunt that she had circled with the weight of her fingers while she had also tasked herself to suck and lick the small ball that had gently perked up from your small meaty fleece Ellie had captured her mouth with.

Your hips had gently thrusted forwards, hands curved around the arch of the kitchen island you had sat on. Its once cold platform warmed by the heat of your skin and the friction you had caused whenever you had moved your hips forward to press your cunt further against her face.

Her green eyes open as she looked up at you with loving eyes, and as she used two of her digits to slip inside of her tight hole, Ellie had rolled her eyes back while she had encouraged you to bounce on her face. “Mama, come on,” she whimpered before she kitten licked your clit, and in response to her name-calling you had moaned just as you slipped your fingers into the messiness of her hair, guided her on where to move her pink lips and where to inhale you.

You had felt it, the sweet stinging need to release on her face, but you had held it back and choked back a cry when you felt the texture of her tongue slip inside of you, her eyes still open as she watched the way you had fondled your breast, the way you had rocked your hips forwards to bounce on her small meat. “So good, fuck Ellie!” You had wept and as she had hummed against your heat, the smooth vibrations flowing through your body. Frantic, Ellie blinked towards you as she quickly grabbed your other breast.

Like a juvenile, was what Ellie had been, with the way she had suckled on your clit, bounced on her fingers and played with your breast with her other hand, she was like a thirsty mammal, and when she had closed her eyes and had curved her fingers against her sweet areas, she had then climaxed around her digits, her nectar spilling against the ground while she slipped out her fingers and used both of her hands to spread your legs further apart.

“Fuck! Ellie!” You had cried as you could feel yourself begin to shake; eyes drowsy as the second warning of your body wanting to cum zapped through your figure. “Ah-fuck!” You had cried out just as you lurched your body forwards, both of your paws deep into her tied locks as you had finally cummed into her mouth and like the hungry dog she was she had inhaled all of them, licking every inch of your ambrosia as much as she could and once, she had finished, she had pressed her chin against your leg.

There had been a certain look on her face, a look of happiness, and as you had sighed, you returned her smile, Ellie had then spoke. “Did I do well mama?”

“Yeah,” you had breathed. “Yes, you did.”

REFERENCE

LADY

You had lost how long it had been when both you had Lady had started kissing, and you had forgotten how you even made it into the room, all you had known was how much you had wanted to taste her, how much the both of you had wanted to taste each other, it was like your minds were connected, how the two of you were in sync. You had each other hands between each other’s thighs and the two of you had licked each other’s tongues, as if the moment you two would let go of each other you’d both disappear.

“I love you,” Lady breathed before she walked you to the bed, both hands clasped against both sides of your face as she had then pressed you against the soft bed.

It wasn’t long until the two of you had peeled off each other’s clothing and positioned each other’s hearths above each other’s faces, you had been quick to press your tongue against her slit, her taste had been hot and tangy and the simple aroma of her nectar had driven you crazy, you had moaned, your body tight as you could feel her the balance of her tongue stroke your sex, the both of you rolling your hips as you had both chased your high.

Quick, you had thrusted your tongue inside of her, aided her to bounce on your tongue, the slight effort had pulled an fiery string inside of her, and her moans began to get higher in a preposterous scale, her moans twisted into a nasally cry as she could feel herself suck her stomach in, she had lifted her mouth away from your cunt, her eyes were rolled back as she could feel herself quickly orgasm inside of your mouth.

Embarrassed, she had turned to you. “Sorry,” she had muttered and moved, you had shook your head.

“Don’t apologise,” you said before you kissed her again, and cheerfully, Lady had pushed your body against the bed.

“Then let me make it up to you,” she whispered before she crawled up your figure just as she had tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth fore she cupped the back of your knees with her palms. She had positioned herself above your sex before she started to rub her pussy against yours, and with a short sigh, Lady had fluttered her eyes shut, her dainty hands wrapped around your ankle as she slowly picked up the pace.

Her lips had shuddered as her clit smothered against yours, she had closed her eyes before she tilted her head to the side. “You feel so good baby, ah,” she had whined and as kickback you had watched how she quickly moved with your glossy eyes, you had watched how she worked her body, her waist, had stared at the curve of her hips and perk of her breast as she bounced against you, both of your cries intertwined with each other as the wet friction between the two of you had built up.

“You’re so beautiful,” you had muttered before you had reached for her breasts, watchful with how the short strands of her hair had bounced and swayed at every movement of her thrusts, you had circled the pad of your fingers against her nipples and lustful, she had bent over and kissed you again, the strokes of her need to orgasm once more had pulsed through her body and she had held it back, but it had been a terrible but wonderful pain, holding back her nectar and continue racing for yours.

She had lost herself inside of you, breathing you, taking you in when she licked your tongue again, you had gasped and whimpered, as you could feel yourself cry, she had felt so good, you had felt so good, the enlarged bud of your clit stroke and humped against hers, you had traced your fingers against her jaw, shadowed every inch and edge as you could feel yourself want to climax, the two of you in a pool of such intense pleasure that there had been a loss of words, just the mere gasp and moans and the strong staring in each other’s eyes.

The moment one of you had eventually spoken was when you could feel your body tremble, inflamed with bliss and thrill as it took over your body. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You squealed and with flush, Lady laughed through your mouth, stubborn to pull herself away from you, obsessed with idea of being connected with you eternally.

“Cum with me,” she lustfully suggested and once more, her distinct cries commenced again, shaking and jerking against you as her sticky honey spilt against your body, mixing with your amrita that quickly poured out, with a relieved sigh, she had fallen against you.

“Trish is so going to make fun of me,” Lady said before she folded herself off of you.

With a smirk you had agreed. “Yeah, you do moan really weird,” you said and with a short slap against your forearm, Lady clicked her tongue.

“I hate you.”

REFERENCE ONE

REFERENCE TWO

[ghostkennedy]

Every Version of You (3)

A reverse harem with three variants of Leon Kennedy and feminine reader.

~ Masterlist ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SONGS: To the End - My Chemical Romance and Broken Smile (My All) - Lil Peep

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR PART THREE: self-deprecating, angst, anxiety, depression, yelling, feelings of insignificance, death, talking about death, feelings of love, love confessions, mentions of wanting to die, arguing, teasing, anger, blood, bleeding out, descriptions of blood on skin, loss of hopes and dreams, trauma, tension

TAGLIST: @growingupnrealizing , @weneewinnie , @delulusimps , @yoonbabe-d , @missjoenowhere , @cassiecasluciluce , @greywardensaywhat , @kennedyswhore , @all-mights-babygirl , @weasleytwinscumslut , @pinkrose1422 , @british-mint-bunny

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS POST AND BLOG ARE 18+ ONLY!!!!!!!

PART "CHAPTER" THREE

Rookie sits on the cold floor with his back pressed against an even colder cement wall. But he feels uncomfortably warm with you sitting right next to him leaning your head on his shoulder.

It’s been an hour since he watched your random make out session with his older self. It stirred up feelings within himself that he’s not sure he wants to address. But sitting here in silence, there’s nothing else for him to really do. Of course his mind is wandering, threatening to burst out of his skull completely if he doesn’t suffocate the flames.

You’re not in any better state of mind. He feels less like a pussy seeing you struggle to process and cope with everything, just as he is, but he also wants to take it all away from you. He hates seeing you in so much pain, so torn up inside that all you can do is stare off blankly. He knows he’s useless to you right now. He’s staring off blankly at the same wall, so how in the hell could he ever be comforting to you?

Rookie never considered himself to be an overly anxious person, but right now, he feels like he merely exists as a cloud of anxiety over the room. 

He’s an insignificant man; he knows he isn’t destined for anything revolutionary or some sort of infamy. He’s looking at this older, well seasoned version of himself and doesn’t see how he could ever get to such a point in his life.

How is he supposed to meet the expectations layed out for him by his future self? Surviving apocalypses, outbreaks, and man made horrors? Somehow prevailing against all odds? He’s just Leon Kennedy, not a superhero. He’s been destined for failure since the day he was born. And yet, he’s somehow supposed to save lives and possibly even the world?

No wonder you freaking died! He’s irresponsible and not the leader type. He’s meant to do as he’s told and never fall out of line. That’s what Leon Kennedy is good at, not whatever this bullshit is. Time travel, for fuck’s sake? He’s entirely out of his element.

Then, he has to stand here quietly and watch as older Leon makes out with you. He sees this devotion and utter adoration in his eyes when he looks at you and it feels so foreign to him. That’s supposed to be him–he’s supposed to feel like that? Maybe not now, but one day? He’s capable of such a thing?

You’re a nice girl and everything, but he doesn’t know you all that well and he’s supposed to just accept that there’s something written in the stars between the two of you? How the fuck is he supposed to feel?

With the knowledge he now possesses, how is he supposed to authentically experience anything ever again? How does he naturally fall in love with you or know that he is in love with you, when in the back of his mind he knows he’s meant to? How does he go about his normal life, knowing an outbreak is coming and not to go running for the hills? Everything feels wrong–is everything wrong?

In all of the cheesy movies he’s seen about time travel, they say that this is the way timelines are destroyed. Is he responsible for completely fucking up the natural trajectory of the world? Maybe not this version of himself, but he still feels complicit. Something, or some things rather, happen to him and he’s messed up enough to be willing to destroy the world and society as we know it. What gives him the right–what makes him significant enough to do something so major?

Nothing has made sense since they showed up and pulled him from his life and timeline. He’s so overwhelmed and it’s only been a day or two since he was taken from his average life. 

You’re also overwhelmed and overthinking everything, but for very different reasons.

You’re sure of your feelings for Leon. When you thought he was dying, those feelings forced their way to the surface and demanded to be acknowledged. You could lie and blame it on the traumatic situation, but deep down, you know those feelings have always been there. It was easy to admit to them in the moment, simply because falling in love with Leon is one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 

Now that you know Leon had to endure the same exact thing, except you actually died, it’s a hard pill to swallow to put it mildly. That’s not even mentioning the fact that you’re meant to die. You’re supposed to drop dead in what, a few weeks or maybe a few months? It fills you with an existential dread that you’ve never felt before. 

This must be how people feel when they’re told they only have a few months to live. The finality of it, the inevitability of it, fills you with a helpless feeling you desperately wish you didn’t have to address.

You keep replaying the conversation between you and Leon over and over and over. No matter how hard you try to push it out of your head, all you can hear are his words.

“...A life without you isn’t a life worth living for me.”

Dying? What the fuck is he talking about?

You pull yourself out of his grasp and force as much distance between the two of you as possible.

Leon speaks again. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a lot to process, but it’s my truth. I just needed you to know that.”

“I’m going to die?” Your voice is shaky, showing the nerves you’re trying to push down.

Leon shakes his head. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Hindsight is 20/20. If I have to sacrifice myself to save you, then I’m sorry I couldn’t live for you. But I’d choose you over absolutely anything any day. I’m nothing without you and I know you’d find happiness in this world, even without me. You’re resilient and beautiful and captivating. The world would bend to your will just to keep you.”

Your mouth falls open and all you can do is stare at him. You’re not one to ever be speechless, but you keep finding yourself in this state.

“How did it feel when you thought I died? Did you feel that emptiness–that helplessness? Do you understand how it feels now?”

“Not you. My Leon. And I’d rather not discuss how it felt, but thanks anyway I guess.” You avoid his eyes, but you have something else you need to say. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

You’re referring to the kiss and Leon recognizes that immediately.

“You’re serious?” He scoffs at you.

You scoff right back at him, “Yeah I’m fucking serious. You may be Leon’s older self, but you’re not my Leon. My feelings are for him.”

You feel like you betrayed him. Whether it’s his older self or his younger self or whoever, your loyalty belongs to your Leon. Fuck every other timeline besides yours and his. It’s the only timeline you give a shit about. 

“I’ll try to be patient with you. I know I’ve had a lot more time to process the dynamic of what’s happening, but my love for you is unconditional. I love every version of you. In every past life, this life, the next one, and the one after that.”

“We’ll be able to wake Leon shortly. He just needs to… marinate a bit longer for lack of a better term,” Luis snaps you from your thoughts.

You nod at him. The emotions are eating you up from the inside out and you’re starting to feel numb and disconnected. 

“Hey,” Chris speaks up this time. “You’re not going to die. We’re here for the sole purpose of saving you. We won’t let anything happen to you. It’d be a waste of time for all of us if we let you die anyway.”

His last sentence is humorous and even though you try not to laugh, you can’t stop the huff of breath that leaves you.

“What if we can’t save me? Or what if we destroy the world by messing with the timeline or something? What if God comes down and smites us all? If you believe in any of that. Whatever divine presence you could possibly believe in, it doesn’t change anything. How can we know anything we do will change fate?” 

The word vomit just keeps tumbling past your lips. You can’t help it. You’re terrified. You’re anxious. You’re every negative feeling to ever be translated into this language.

“We’ve succeeded before with a whole lot less,” Luis explains. “I’m supposed to be dead, yet I’m very much alive.” He does jazz hands. As if he didn’t just casually mention they’ve done the time travel thing before and it’s the only reason he’s standing here. He treats it like you’re discussing what to order for fucking lunch.

“He was the trial run,” Leon explains while shrugging. “Sort of like a crash test dummy. We weren’t going to put you through this without knowing if it could actually work. Plus he’s a scientist, or whatever.”

“Jee, thanks amigo.”

Chris’ lips thin as he fails to hold back a laugh.

“For Christ’s sake, what now?” Leon spits out at Chris.

“I think he calls us amigo to remind us how white we are. A more accurate translation of his amigos would be his white people. It’s funny.”

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny,” you butt in and Leon’s head whips in your direction, shooting you a death glare. You throw your hands up in the air to feign your innocence, but he just shakes his head at you.

“Amigos, why must we always argue?” 

Chris responds, “See, Leon? He’s not denying it. He’s patronizing us-”

“What the fuck are you talking about-”

“Hey!” Luis yells over the two of them. “Kiss and make up, will you? We got shit to take care of.”

Both men finally quiet down; Leon getting one more dirty look in at Chris before shifting his attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“Any way,” Luis looks back at you, “These two managed to get their hands on the technology to come back and intervene in my…ending. But the side effects are pretty brutal. I’ve spent a lot of time researching and altering our methods.”

“The mechanics were terrible,” Chris grimaces.

“What gave you that idea? The fact that we almost killed ourselves in the process?” Leon scowls.

Rookie finally speaks up. “Is he always like this?”

“Hope not,” you mumble.

“As I was saying,” Luis once again has to bring everyone’s attention back to the actual discussion. “Your mission will be delayed due to an urgent matter. The president’s daughter is kidnapped and Leon will be sent to retrieve her. I was meant to die on that mission.”

Leon finishes the story for Luis.

“Then, I get back and we go on with our assignment and everything goes wrong. You die, I barely survive, it’s a shitshow. But now Luis is alive and we’ve figured our shit out, so now we can go on with our actual initiative; saving the girl who somehow considers me a different person.”

“Sorry this is a weird situation we’ve found ourselves in.” You snap at him and he gives you a look of complete surprise at the outburst.

And then, Leon laughs. It’s a humorless laugh as he cradles his face in his hands. You’re completely confused at his reaction and you know it’s showing in your expression.

When his head whips back up, his eyes instantly meet yours, your heart stops and you’re actually startled by the angry expression on his face.

“You died in my fucking arms!” He shouts and the whole room falls into silence. 

You can’t bring yourself to look away from him. You wish the world would swallow you up and remove you from this situation. Or maybe if you could fold in on yourself until you ceased to exist right before his very eyes. Anything to not feel the intensity in the heat of his stare. 

You don’t know what to say. What the fuck do you say to that? I’m sorry for dying? It wasn’t my intention to do so? Thank you? Glad you could join me there? 

“Can we have a moment alone?” His words express a question, but his tone iterates it as a demand not to be argued against.

The other three men quietly leave the room. As they walk away, you silently plead for one of them to stay–to not leave you alone to face his wrath and fury on your own. 

But your prayers go unanswered as Rookie gives you a sympathetic look before closing the door behind him.

You stare down at your hands as you fiddle with your finger nails. You don’t know which would be worse, the deafening silence or him actually speaking to you. Do you even want to know what he has to say to you? He’s furious, to put it mildly, and you dread the fact that he might take it out on you. Leon wouldn't do that though–or would he? Do you even know anything at all anymore?

He sighs heavily before walking over to you, sitting next to you on the floor. He takes over Rookie’s old spot, his presence much more crowding than he younger counterpart.

He takes your left hand in his much larger hands. You feel so small with the way your hand ceases to exist between his. It’s scary, it’s overwhelming, it’s comforting. It’s a perfect fucking fit is what it is.

“I don’t mean to be so angry. I don’t want to be, but I can’t control it anymore. I’m so fucking angry.” He speaks to you quietly.

“Why?” Your voice is even quieter than his. It comes out barely above a whisper.

“You were bleeding out in my arms. Your blood covered my entire chest and was dripping off of my arms. And it was so warm; it’s like I can still feel it coating my skin.”

You finally turn your head to look at him, but he’s still looking ahead. You bring your other hand to his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles gently. You silently encourage him to go on and he finally sighs, relenting.

“I could feel the life leaving your body, could feel you weakening against me. And in that moment, even though you knew you were dying and there was nothing we could do, you were comforting me. Assuring me that I’d be okay.”

Your lips form a sad smile, because you know that that is absolutely what you would do in that situation. Even as you lay there dying, half way in his arms and half way in the grim reapers, you’d want to make sure he was okay. You’d want to assure him that everything would be fine for him even though it wasn’t for you. It wouldn’t matter if you could accept the fact that you were dying or not; you’d want to comfort him with the fact that you were at peace with it. All for his sake.

“And then you were just,” He looks over at you and releases a heavy breath, “Gone. You stopped bleeding and your blood slowly dried into my skin. The blood went cold on me. And I knew there was nothing I could’ve done to save you, but I wanted that warm feeling back. I wished you were still bleeding out in my arms and that your warm blood was running down my body, just so that I could have even a few more seconds with you.”

You nod your head as you listen to him. He probably takes it as you encouraging him to talk about it and release it from his system, but it’s more than that to you. You understand how he felt. You would’ve jumped into the vat of liquid with Leon just to have those last moments with him. You hated the thought of him dying alone in there and you would’ve given anything to hold him in your arms that one last time.

“You know, I denied my feelings for you until the bitter end. I sat there with your lifeless body and that was when I finally allowed myself to admit I was in love with you. I was forced to acknowledge all of those emotions I’d refused to for so long. All I could do was whisper to you how much I loved you even though I knew you were no longer there to hear it.”

He leans in and rests his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry it took you bleeding out in my arms for me to finally speak the words of what I knew all along. I still feel the pain every goddamn day. I spent every minute after that wishing I would’ve just died with you.”

You pull your hands from his and bring them up to his face, holding his cheeks in your palms and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“I know,” your voice waivers. “I know because it was the same for me. Felt like the fucking world was ending. I just knew that I loved you so much, and that I would never get to love you while you were alive.”

Leon wrapped his arms around you and you wrapped yours around him. You clung to each other so tightly, your souls might have actually merged together right there in that basement. It didn’t matter how complicated the situation was, because you two understood each other. And that’s all that really mattered in that moment.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

After a while, everyone is back in the basement. Chris, Luis, and Leon are gathered around the control panel, talking amongst themselves. You and Rookie are once again left to your own devices.

He hasn’t spoken much and just by the lost look on his face, you can see his mind running a thousand miles per hour.

“Hey,” Rookie’s attention is immediately on you, as if he was just waiting for you to speak to him. “I know it’s probably not comforting at all, but um, the version of me in your time is oblivious to everything too. We haven’t gone through life altering atrocities together yet. If she was brought here, I think she’d have shut down completely. Like, fuck, I’m still trying not to shut down completely.”

Rookie smiles at your attempt to calm his mind, like an actual smile. His actual smile versus the ones he fakes are so different, it’s like night and day. And you’d do anything to see his real smile, so you continue.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, having your dream ripped from you is devastating. Having to let go of everything you thought you’d have? Processing the world being completely different then how you always knew it to be? It’s miserable. It doesn’t matter if you save the entire world, you’ll never feel like a hero. But you are a hero, Leon. Nothing will ever lessen the burdens that are yours alone to bear and for that, I am so sorry.”

“Thank you,” he says before leaning his head on your shoulder, the opposite of your earlier position. When you were leaning on his shoulder in a subconscious need to be close to him.

“I think I’ll always mourn the life I wanted for myself. You know, the fulfilling career, finding my soulmate, the white picket fence. Can’t forget the house full of well behaved kids,” you huff out a laugh. “My dream is simple now, but seems so much harder to attain than my previous ones.”

“And what’s that?”

“To be happy.”

Rookie looks up at you, a solemn look on his face.

“Is it okay if I steal that dream and make it mine too?”

“Well, of course. Gotta shoot for the stars, right?”

You smile at each other, your smile only grows recognizing his genuine smile. And you stare at each other longer than what would be considered normal. But the longer you stare at each other, the harder you find it to look away.

In his eyes, you see every version of Leon and the feeling growing inside of your chest is foreign and new to you. Because he’s still your Leon, just the younger version. And the Leon leaning against the cement wall as he watches Luis and Chris argue over something on the control panel, is your Leon too. You have no fucking idea what to make of this realization.

You’re not sure how much time passes, when a throat clears, pulling you and Rookie’s attention over to the other men.

“His calibration is done,” Chris announces. “We can wake him up now.”

[blossom-works]

Mommy and Daddy Bear

"Chris! Claire!" Leon calls out to his friends. They are locked inside two Alcatraz jail cells. The Redfield siblings are pale, gritting their teeth from whatever is hurting them. The DSO agent tries to force the cells open, but they are locked shut.

"Look behind you, Leon." Claires points. Her arm is shaking, but she is determined to make her friend look behind him. Following her finger, Leon spots someone else in the cell behind him. The entire room is dark, so he turns on his flashlight.

"Babe!" Leon drops his flashlight and crawls to your cell. Like the Redflields, you are gritting your teeth in pain. Your skin is pale too. Leon reaches inside the cell to cup your cheek. Through his gloves, Leon can feel your rising temperature.

"What are you doing here? What happened? Where are the kids?"

Drowsy, you try your best to answer him. "They...They're with Helena. Some woman tried to ambush us but I managed to hold her off." Your wheezing worries Leon even more. There are two times Leon has seen you in a similar state. Both were when you gave birth to his children.

"Help! Get us out of here!"

Leon turns around and in Claire's cell is Leon's target.

"Antonia Taylor...I'll deal with your ass later." Screw his mission. His wife is more important than bringing in some rouge scientist. He needs to get his wife home to their kids.

Leon rubs your warm cheek as an act of comfort. "I'm gonna get you out of here, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Suddenly, the lights flicker on. Jill and Leon pull out their guns and point them in opposite directions. The man in charge, Dylan Blake, introduces himself and his insane plan to the entire group. One of his bio-drones stings Leon in the back of his neck, weakening the man. From your line of view, you see the same woman who tried to take your children jump down from the floor above.

"You bitch." You groan out. You wish you had your gun on you so you could shoot the woman between her eyes. The woman disarms your weakened husband and kicks him to your cell. Reaching your hand out, you squeeze Leon's shoulder.

"I get it now. The attack. The virus. You got them from Arias. That's why she's here." Leon wheezes out. The virus is coursing through his veins, slowly shutting his body down.

"Leon," You exhale. "That's her. That the bitch that tried to take the kids."

Dylan's voice echoes the large, empty room. "You killed poor Maria's father. It was only fair for her to take away your family, Leon. Unfortunately, we underestimated your wife's condition. Even at three months post-partum, she was able to put up a fight. Left a bruise or two on Maria. I've got to say my friend, you have yourself quite a catch."

"Screw you, you bastard!"

"My kids and wife are innocent! You had no right to go after them!"

Dylan goes on a tangent about how everything the BOW fighters have fought for was a lie. They are nothing but pawns for powerful people to use. Dylan nit-picks at each of them, even you.

"And poor Mrs. Kennedy...I feel bad for you the most. You married a man who is tied down to his endless, grueling job. He even got your family mixed into his mess. What kind of a man does that to his family?"

You defend your husband through your gritted teeth. "Leon didn't do shit to our family. You're the one who endangered our family, asshole! My husband does everything he can to protect us so kindly fuck off!"

Leon has always questioned his ability to protect his family. He is constantly gone throughout the year and for an unknown amount of time. Your husband tries his best to be there for his kids and for you, but work gets in the way. He even worries about being present in their early lives. Leon does not want to miss out on their important firsts. He never wants to end up as the dad who misses out on his kids' school events, games, and recitals. Dylan is good at hitting a man in his Achilles heel.

Maria grabs onto Jill's hand, making her drop her gun from the pressure she applies. To protect their only chance at survival, Leon pulls out a flash grenade and tosses it in the middle of the hallway. When the flash clears, Maria steps onto Leon's chest. The more pressure she uses, the more her heeled boots dig into his skin.

"Leave them, Maria. They're all about to turn anyway."

Reluctantly, the woman obeys. She haughtily looks down at you who is glaring at her. Cursing the woman for going after your family. Silently proclaiming your revenge.

All week and terrified, Leon does his best to distract you from the pain. "How are the kids?"

"They should be fine. Helena was with me when Maria decided to drop by. She took the kids while I stalled Maria." You grip your side in pain. "Man that bitch packs a mean kick."

"She," Leon groans. "She knew where we lived?" You nod. It astonishes you too. Everything about your family is classified thanks to DSO's protocol. Information about their agents and their families is pretty much untouchable with the exception of a few.

Being the angel she is, Rebecca shows up with her vaccines. "Thank goodness I made an extra." She tries to give Leon the vaccine first, but he rejects it. No way is he going to get better while his wife is still sick. When everyone is vaccinated, you all know the battle is almost over.

Picking up Jill's gun, you turn around to face your husband. "Let's go get that bitch."

---

The fight between you, Leon, and Maria is an exhausting one. It takes the two of you a while before your full strength is back. Something must have been injected into Maria because she is what you describe as a "super soldier". Maria is a good fighter, but she fucked with your family. She broke into your home. She tried to go after your precious kids and use them as leverage. The woman fucked with the wrong set of parents. And she put her nasty ass foot on your husband's face! So not cool!

When Leon regains his strength, he double-kicks Maria. His last kick is about to send Maria to her death, but you want to be the one to do it. You take the disheveled Maria and shove her from behind with your foot while bending her body down to a certain level of height. The metal rod sticking out, pierces through Maria's head, killing her instantly. You and Leon have peace of mind knowing that the woman after your family is dead.

Leon drags you away from Maria's body and brings you into his chest. Your hug only lasts a couple of seconds because the control room starts to shake.

"We are so going on vacation after this." You say.

Leon laughs and nods his head in agreement. You guys are definitely booking a trip when you get home. He hopes that Eri will not remember whatever happened in your home. Levi is only a few months old but his sister is two. Leon does not want Maria to be one of Eri's earliest memories. Leon can only hope that your maternal instincts protected Eri from early childhood trauma.

---

The fight on Alcatraz Island is over. The six of you sit outside as you wait for backup to arrive.

"Well...I know what I'm taking away from this."

"What's that?" Rebecca asks.

"Prison tours suck." Leon's dorky remark makes everyone laugh. You lightly shove him to the side before he swings his arm around your shoulder. "So, where we goin' for vacation, love?"

"You were serious about that?" Chris asks. Leon announced that he and his family were going on vacation after this mission, but the BSAA operative thought Leon just said that in the heat of the moment.

You hum. "France? I've always wanted to see the Palace of Versailles and I'm sure Eri would love to go to the Disneyland there."

Claire raises her hand like a kid. "OOO! I wanna go too!" As much as she travels because of one thing or another, it is never where she wants to go and do what she wants to do (besides survive of course).

"France sounds good. Jill? Rebecca?"

Jill shrugs her shoulders and Rebecca says that she could use a vacation after this week.

"Wait a damn minute, It's a family vacation. Kennedy only." You slap your husband's arm for being rude to your friends.

"C'mon babe, these guys are practically family. Besides, free babysitters."

Hearing "free babysitters" immediately changes Leon's mind. He loves his children, but having the chance to have their mother to himself is just too good to pass up. Eri is an easy kid to watch, she just needs to work on her potty-training skills. Levi is formula fed so he does not need to be on your boobs every two or three hours. This means that mommy and daddy can have some uninterrupted "mommy and daddy" time.

"Alright, fine but you guys are paying for yourselves."

---

Story inspired by "Family Matters" by @not-another-leon-blog

[happyweskerreport]

Finals Week

[greenteasnoothie]

This is my first time making a request, but- hear me out.

Fem! Reader whose in a trial against Wesker and panics when he goes to pull her out of a locker- her solution to escaping his grasp? Slapping his ass. Whether it works or not is up to you-

How Wesker would react if you slap his ass during a trail

A/N: OMG ANON I LOVE THIS SO MUCH LOL AND OMG I'M HONORED THAT YOU DECIDED TO REQUEST YOUR FIRST REQUEST TO ME AAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(GIF is not mine)

Paring: DBD! Wesker X Fem!Reader

Genre: no clue maybe a little NSFT but idfk

Content mentioned: blood, slapping of bootys 😎

Wordcount: short

—------------------------------------------------------

“Two gens left come on, so close..” You tell yourself in your head while repairing one of the last two gens.

You start to feel your heart beating faster and louder the sound of blood rushing in your ears takes up all of your hearing. You look to the left and then to the right, that's when you see the killer…Wesker.

You leave the gen and start running for it, Wesker follows behind starting to charge up his Uroboros, you try to find a place where you can turn Connors and hopefully make it so he charges his uroboros to nothing because you keep on moving, but it’s all open where you are. Before you can even think of any other ideas he’s charging at you… and you just got pinned to a tree, you get out of his grasp and you RUN for it, you find a locker and hide in it hoping that maybe he won’t notice but nope he noticed. Wesker opens the Locker wags his finger in your face and pulls you out of the locker, now you're really freaking out. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but now you're so close to a hook, and you're starting to get tired..

SLAP

You pause, Wesker pauses and it seems you both are surprised by your action. Before you even process that you just slapped Wesker's ass he dropped you to the ground making you grunt.

You watch as Wesker walks away, is that blush or blood on his face?

———————————————————————

A/N (again): LMAOO SORRY THIS IS SHORT BUT I JUST LOVE THIS LMFAO THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST ANON

Also peeps I have a WIP post check it out if you want!!

(Btw people 😎 I’m open for emoji anons 😈😈)

© silly-little-fan-grll, 2023. do not repost, translate or copy my work.

[tonberry-yoda]

Cuddling with Wesker Headcanons

notes - I just did the one with Leon and now I feel like I have to do Wesker. LISTEN, I still don't know a lot about the man, but I know a bit and I'm gonna play re5 soon. This may not be the most in character Wesker, but I want to cuddle him, so that's what he gets for being in my brain lolol

b-broad shoulders (*drools cutely*)

this man will hold you in his arms and never let go

i feel like he doesnt care for spooning, but instead wants you cuddled on his chest

yeah that feels right

and like, he'll give you little forehead kisses when you're sleeping

will his admit this to any of you in the morning???

no

tee hee

run your fingers softly over his face and neck and down his chest to his abs and he belongs to you now

that's just how things work

call him pretty names while cupping his face

he'll act like he hates it, but come on

he needs you for warmth

he is shivering at night and will just press you against you and use you as a blanket LMFAO

ever night before you two fall asleep in each other's arms, he will always tell you something about how pretty you are with a drousy voice before dozing off

you dont care if he says it through a yawn, it means the world to you

play with his hair because it's already fallen out and messy before you two go to sleep, so playing with it more just makes him smile a bit and always helps him sleep faster

i feel like he has a problem with sleep unless you're there, so make this man pass out, it's one of your best qualities <3

he will always be gone when you wake up, but he won't stop thinking about cuddling you lol, you just have that effect <3

~~~~~

resident evil masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover, and the Bastard Son - Part 4

Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (he'll be in the next part)

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

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you in more ways than you thought possible.

Contents: Major spoilers for RE6, canon typical violence/swearing, mentions of blood being drawn, improper use of a syringe as an improvised weapon, angsty Jake content, angsty plot content, descriptions of blood and violence, dialogue heavy chapter. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Hey peeps. It's me ya boi. I regret nothing for the events that are about to unfold. Thanks for reading :)

w/c: 10.8k+

There is no feasible way out of the cell that you’re confined in. After an indiscernible amount of time being unconscious from the gas released in the specimen room, you woke up here. As far as prisons go, it’s not half bad; a spacious white chamber with a basic cot with white sheets in the middle of the room. In the corner across from it is a security camera with a red light. What makes this room different from your handful of previous kidnapping quarters, are the metal shutters to the right of the entrance to the room that takes up the entirety of the wall. Given the room you were in reminded you of chambers for infected test subjects, there was a likely chance you were being observed through the camera on the other side of the wall.

There’s a second difference as well. You woke up with the crook of your arm wrapped in gauze and a cotton swab. These people had drawn blood from you while you were knocked out. Probably to test if you were compatible for the new virus you’re sure they’re making.

All you can do is wait and see if you’re right.

You aren’t too worried about your involuntary confinement. Not yet anyway. These people evidently want you alive and in one piece. You’re not too sure if Jake would be given the same courtesy though. If he was as skilled as he said he was, you would be willing to bet he was already long gone. If that boy had any sense, he would be trying to find a radio right now to signal for help.

You don’t have to wait too long with your thoughts. A short time after, you hear white noise hum from the speaker and the familiar higher pitched male voice echoes around the chamber.

“Good day, Dr. Wesker.” The voice is the same one you heard from the thin silhouetted man when you first arrived. He speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Hello.” You answer back looking directly into the camera, keeping your tone neutral.

“I understand you had a little -detour- on the way to your room.”

“I did.”

“I would encourage you not to indulge in your wanderlust again, but you strike me as the type to take that as a challenge.”

You narrow your eyes at the camera and purse your lips. You don’t want to give anything away that would confirm the man’s assumption is correct. When you continue to be silent, the man speaks again.

“Forgive me, we haven’t made a proper introduction. I am Youju, one of the head researchers for Neo Umbrella. Welcome to my facility.”

You can’t find it in you to even care who he is. It doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. As far as you’re concerned, Umbrella (or Neo Umbrella) was still just a terrorist organization that made bioorganic weapons. You don’t care about the specifics of what that means unless it’s relevant to preventing an outbreak.

“Will you just cut to the chase?”

There’s a pause from the speaker. “Pardon?”

You sigh and cross your arms, still looking into the camera. “I’ve done this song and dance multiple times and I have no patience for the dramatics anymore. What do you want?”

Silence from the speaker. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Do you have a new virus you want to test out on me? An old one you revamped? I’ve been proposed with job offers before but I’m letting you know right now-”

“No, no miss. Your purpose here today is much more… personal.”

That can’t be good.

“So I’m here for revenge? You’re going to have to specify. Albert had a lot of enemies, and I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with them.”

“You misunderstand what I mean when I say personal.” You can hear an underlying tone of deviousness in that statement. Youju continues.

“Tell me doctor, how have I gone all these years without knowing Albert Wesker had a son?”

You stand in stunned silence. Wesker? A father? The thought makes you want to laugh in disbelief. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the confidence in Youju’s voice.

What kind of ploy is this?

Is he trying to get you to admit a secret you don’t even have? You spend the next few moments thinking over what the man had just said, when you hear him tap the mic, which results in your ears being assaulted with high pitched feedback and you reflexively covering your ears.

“I’m not a patient man, doctor. Answer me.” Youju’s words are drawn out with a mocking, sing-song voice.

You lower your hands and stare directly into the camera, making a conscious effort to keep your tone even. “We never had any kids.”

Silence falls over the chamber again. Long enough that you think Youju must have left. However, you hear his voice again, but this time you hear a smile in his words.

“… well this is quite an interesting development. I have someone I want to introduce you to. Mrs. Wesker.”

The tone in his voice clearly indicates he doesn’t believe you.

A deep metallic click sounds through the chamber before the metal shutters next to you begin to raise themselves up, groaning their whole journey to the ceiling. As they ascend, the shutters reveal a window to another room. Although surprisingly, there aren’t any Neo Umbrella personnel behind the glass. Instead, the panels reveal an identical chamber to yours, except it’s Jake on the other side of the glass sitting on the bed and leaning on his knees. The bottoms of his pants are covered in dark mud, a part of his sleeve looks scorched, and there’s a sizeable gash on his temple that had scabbed over next to his buzzed ginger hair. Blood that has long since dried had trickled down next to the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face. In other words, he’s much worse for wear than the last time you saw him. Whoever came into the room to investigate the alarm really did a number on him.

You see a discarded bundle of gauze with a slightly bloody cotton ball in Jake’s room. These people took blood from him too.

That grating voice over the loudspeaker interrupts your thoughts.

“Mr. Muller! I hope you’re finding your accommodations acceptable.”

Acceptable was a stretch, but at least your rooms had the bare necessities. You can’t say the same for your past accommodations with other organizations.

Jake shrugs and leans back, taking a look around the room. You hear his voice come from a hidden speaker near the window.

“Not bad, asshole. Feels like I’m shacking up at the Shitz Carlton.”

You would have smiled at that if that nagging sense of familiarity from earlier wasn’t still wracking your brain.

Where have I seen him before?

Youju quips back with that knowing tone over the speaker. “Even when corned in the lion’s den, you still have something witty to bite back with. Just like your father so I’m told.”

Jake’s carefree demeanor grows more rigid; shoulders squared, clenched jaw and sharpened expression. The man’s family is a sensitive subject.

“Where are my manners? Dr. Wesker have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Muller?”

It was hard to tell, but you could have sworn you saw Jake perk up at hearing your dreaded last name. You stare at him a moment longer.

“Can’t say I have before today.”

“Really? Are you certain?” The way Youju says that makes it seems like he’s trying to make you doubt an obvious answer to a trivia question. You stare at Jake, and he stares back, unblinking.

You turn back towards the camera.

“I would remember the scar. I haven’t met this man.”

“Interesting. Why don’t you look closer?”

The man from the speaker obviously wants to get some sort of point across to you, so you humor him. Sighing and shifting your weight, you turn to Jake. You look past the grime, the evidence of fights lost, and modern clothes.

You look at his face, his eyes…

You stop breathing.

You thought about what Youju had said before. Albert Wesker had a son.

Your mind races with a cacophony of scrambled thoughts over the next few seconds.

How did these people figure out Wesker had a son before you did? He looks like him. How did he go this long without being discovered? It’s likely Jake’s blood is special like Albert’s, so they’d want a promising candidate for virus injections. Who is his mother?

You don’t know where it comes from in the moment, but all you can picture is a displeased Albert holding a ginger headed baby, with his nice work shirt covered in spit up while another woman takes a picture and laughs.

It starts as a giggle, but the longer you think about this scenario, the more ridiculous the thought becomes and the harder it becomes to keep your shoulders still.

“So tell me doctor, what are your thoughts?” Youju replies smugly, waiting for your response.

You can’t help it. You start laughing like an insane woman. Jake’s existence was the cherry on top of an already stressful situation. Your body is exhausted from the journey here, you’re still processing the emotional whiplash from seeing and destroying the Uroboros sample, you’re mentally and emotionally done with everything that could possibly relate to Wesker and now you find out he has a son that isn’t yours? You just find the whole situation so absurd that you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

It's clear that Youju doesn’t find your reaction amusing. His tone is cold and controlled when he speaks next. “Enlighten me Wesker, what could possibly be so funny?”

When you finally catch your breath, you look at the camera again with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.

“This… establishment is really scraping the bottom of the barrel for bright and promising imbeciles, aren’t they?”

Silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

Youju’s voice is flat. Controlled. You had struck something sensitive, and you intend to use it to your advantage to get a moment alone with Jake.

“Because this is ridiculous! Albert Wesker? A father- his father? Are we talking about the same Wesker?”

“His blood sample suggests otherwise-”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

Silence.

You let out a deranged cackle.

“I think I understand now. You found this stranger helping me in the middle of your ocean getaway, you thought he looked like Wesker, and your only plausible conclusion was that he has to be my son. So you’re comparing his DNA to mine because Wesker’s genome is impossible to find. Is that it?”

Youju struggles to stay composed under a guise of false confidence.

“Well we… any reputable institution would confirm hypotheses by… conducting their own independent tests and gathering their samples directly from the source.”

You hum and step a little closer to the camera.

“You know, Umbrella used to check their homework before going through the trouble of kidnapping persons of interest. Just goes to show that the copy is always going to be a letdown from the original.” You made sure to look straight into the camera when you say that, and it has the desired effect.

“You…I-I’ll know you’re lying one way or another soon Wesker!” Unlike before, there was no trace of confident humor. Instead, the voice spits out the words with prideful fury.

“Then by all means, do it. Waste everyone’s time. Hell, I’ll even volunteer for another blood sample when it comes back negative.”

It’s silent for a long time until the white noise from the speaker cuts out and all you can hear is the fluorescent lights above you.

You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the glass. “Hey Wesker!” Youju must have switched off the window speaker.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You turn to the window. Jake stands there, forearm resting on the glass above his head and observing you like a slide under a microscope. “Like I told you before, just Doc is fine.” You respond, annoyed.

You look up at the camera and see its beady red light still trained on you. You look between the camera and Jake. No use being stealthy. You walk over to the window with a determined look on your face, already in problem solving mode.

“We both know that test is going to come back negative.”

“Uh huh… and?” Jake responds, unimpressed.

“Personnel are going to come back eventually for another sample. Make it count and make it hurt although based on your current state-” You gesture to Jakes muddy and burnt clothes. “-your technique needs some work.”

Jake scowls. “My ‘technique’ is just fine.”

“Then prove me wrong.”

It doesn’t take too long for your assumption to come true. After a long stretch of time that you try to fill by pacing your room, you hear several sets of footsteps outside the room. A moment later, you see two men in lab coats accompanied by one guard armed with an electric baton and one armed with a pistol enter Jake’s room on the other side of the glass. 

Jake deals with them in a similar quick and efficient fashion to what you saw before when you first met him, except his moves are much more violent and incensed. Nothing like the cool and confident rescuer you first thought him to be.

The men in lab coats gesture for Jake to roll up his sleeve. Jake complies and one of the men puts a band on his upper arm to cut off blood flow. When the other man goes to do the blood draw, Jake grabs the syringe and plunges it into the man’s eye, causing to scream in pain and stumble back. The other scientist is frozen in fear as the two guards spring into action. The guard with the baton reaches Jake first, but he’s prepared to duck under the guard’s wide swing and he easily kicks the guard’s feet out from under him in one graceful move. As soon as the guard’s body hits the floor, Jake wastes no time grabbing the back of his head and chin and forcing his neck to an unnatural angle, immediately making the guard go limp.

The other guard is yelling something in that unfamiliar language while pointing his gun at Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge it as he charges at him with full speed. The guard is only able to shoot once, barely missing his shot, before Jake unleashes a flurry of blows, his skill in hand-to-hand combat evident in the way he dodges all the guard’s attempts at defense with ease.

While Jake is busy with the other guard, the remaining scientist finally comes to his senses and begins to run out of the room. But by the time he makes it to the door of Jake’s chamber, Jake has already disarmed and shot the other guard in the head. By the time the scientist opens the door, Jake has already lined his shot up perfectly and shoots the scientist dead in his tracks, blood leaking from the bullet wound on the back of his head.

The sight in the other room is grisly, but nothing you’re not already used to from the lifestyle you’ve lived. Once the last scientist is taken care of, you knock on the window to get Jake’s attention. He turns to you, breathing heavily and ripping off the rubber armband from earlier.

“Grab all their keycards! Can’t hurt to have them just in case.”

Jake nods and grabs the keycards from all the bodies, then exits the room. Shortly after, there’s a ping from your door and it opens to reveal Jake on the other side of it.

“Let me see?” You request, briskly walking outside the room and holding out your hand for the keycards. Jake plops them in your hand, looking at you closely. You ignore it and flip through the keycards, trying to discern security level but failing because the only difference between the two are the colors; red for the scientists and black for the guards. You halve them and give one of each back to Jake, which he pockets. He’s still holding the pistol he got from the guard at his side.

“Guess we’ll find out which have higher clearance when the time comes.”

Jake is still looking at you with that analyzing expression. “So you-” Jake is interrupted by an ear piercing alarm and the room is bathed in a foreboding red light.

“Time to move!” Jake grabs your upper arm before you can protest and runs out a door and down the hallway, half dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up with his pace. You don’t know where you’re running to and Jake doesn’t appear to know either. You both keep running until you reach a four-way hallway where the alarm isn’t as loud and the lights are normal. Jake pauses, taking a moment before deciding where to run. You take the opportunity to yank your arm back, rubbing away the sting of Jake’s harsh grip.

“Wait, why aren’t there any guards? Or people?” You say, not quite sure where to go. Maybe it’s residual memories from working at Umbrella, but seeing the nearly identical hallways so empty is setting off alarm bells in your head.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jake replies, irritated, taking a few steps to look down one of the hallways trying to decide where to go while he holds his pistol defensively, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“There’s no people! You don’t find that weird?”

“We’ve got bigger problems right now!” Jake snaps, looking at you with a cold stare. Not a second later, the ear-piercing alarm cries overhead and the lights flick to red.

“We’re going left.” Jake says, running down the left hallway with you tailing right behind him. As you’re running, you notice the grating on the floor.

You realize it’s like the flooring in the specimen room, and suddenly more details about this place make sense.

There’re no people around because they use the knockout gas as a security measure.

The guards wear gas masks so they don’t lose consciousness during breaches.

The alarms and lights warn employees to get to a safe place or avoid the area.

Unfortunately, you put all of this together in the middle of the hallway when the security doors at both ends light up red, rise up from the floor, and close with loud metallic clicks. You hear loud hissing from below you, and you realize with dreaded clarity that the hallway is starting to fill up with gas.

You quickly scan the hallway and see a door with a red marking on it like the one on the scientist keycard.

“Red door on your right! Move it!” You command, already running to the door, keycard in hand.

You don’t need to tell Jake twice. Jake wastes no time dashing into the suggested room once you scan the card. You follow Jake into the room right on his heels. The second you’re through the threshold of the door, you scan the keycard to close the door and engage the emergency lock, emergency protocols drilled into your head from your time at Umbrella taking over. The door beeps and hisses shut just in time to cut off the gas from invading the room you and Jake just entered. The room appears to be some kind of office with several desks around the room. The alarm on the other side of the door is barely heard in this room. You’re safe. For now.

You take a shaky and labored breath while leaning against the door, trying to get your bearings.

Too close.

Your break is quickly interrupted by an accusatory comment from Jake. “You knew him well, huh?”

You stay silent and finally look at Jake. His expression is a cocktail of anger and frustration, even as he’s trying to catch his breath. You glance at Jake’s hand by his side; he’s gripping his pistol tightly and his face is grim and cold. It doesn’t help that you’re looking at Jake with an exasperated and annoyed look.

“You of all people should know why I don’t freely give out my last name.”

You give Jake a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look and Jake tightens his grip on his pistol as he lifts it a few inches like he’s thinking about aiming it. A few seconds pass and Jake takes a deep breath as he sheathes the pistol.

“Fair enough. But I have questions.”

You let out a crazed laugh and start to feverishly pace the room, still in disbelief at the sudden appearance of your husband’s bastard child. “I’m sure you do! I’ve sure as hell got some!” Your tone comes off as angry, but in reality you’re frustrated.

“I’m not too happy he’s my dad either lady!”

“That’s not- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just-” You take a breath and try to relax your shoulders, so you don’t snap at Jake again. “The B.S.A.A. and I have a deal. I tell them everything I know, and I help their scientists deal with bioterrorism. In exchange, I’m supposed to get protection and they keep me in the loop. Simple right? But then-” You stop pacing and gesture to Jake. “-I get kidnapped, again, and I find out my dead husband has a whole ass… grown… child! In their organization! That’s a pretty major development if you ask me!”

You stop pacing the room and plop down in a chair and put your head in your hands, then run your hands through your hair. What else aren’t the B.S.A.A telling you? What isn’t Chris telling you? Did he know about this? He has to. You haven’t done anything to your knowledge to warrant them keeping something this big from you. Did they think you’d not take the news well? Take it out on Jake? Leak the information out of misplaced anger for Albert being with another woman?

“I don’t care what kind of bullshit deal you’ve got with the Bioterrorism Boy Scouts. I’ve got questions and I think considering everything, I deserve some fucking answers.” Jake’s steely look from the chamber is trained directly on you.

“You-” You stop. You’re about to tell him now isn’t the time and that you both need to prioritize finding a radio to call for help and come up with an exit plan, but you don’t. You can’t deny that you want to know more about Jake. He’s rightfully demanding answers about a father he presumably never knew. You know the B.S.A.A hasn’t been forthcoming about new information to you, so they probably haven’t disclosed much to Jake. You also know they won’t be too pleased about you spilling top secret intel about Albert to his son.

“You’re right. He’s your dad, you deserve to know. You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I don’t need more reasons for B.S.A.A.’s finest to dislike me.”

Jake silently looks at you, then nods his head. “Deal.”

You nod back. “Alright. You first.”

Jake leans against the wall, looking at you with a serious expression. “What kind of man was Albert Wesker?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m assuming you already know what kind of man he was.”

“I do. I’ve heard a hell of a lot about my old man, but not from the woman who knew him best. What kind of man was he?”

“An intelligent psychopath with a god complex.” You pause. “Well... the god complex came later. But still.”

“Intelligent? That’s not what I heard.”

“What did you hear then?”

“That he was crazy and he tried to destroy the world.” Jakes voice drips with disdain.

“Crazy and intelligent aren’t mutually exclusive traits. Are you positive that these people didn’t know who you were before they tested your blood?”

Even with everything that had just happened, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why you were brought here. To your knowledge, Neo Umbrella didn’t know Jake existed before an hour ago, let alone know that he was Albert’s son. How they knew he was Albert’s son is still unclear to you since his genome is highly classified information. The man on the speaker said your purpose here was personal but didn’t give any indication that it was related to revenge. What did he mean by that? How does this all connect?

“Hundred percent. If he was like that, why’d you marry him then?” Jake’s tone is accusatory, and a scowl that eerily reminds you of Albert adorns his face.

You’re annoyed with the one-word answer and his tone, but you keep your feelings to yourself. You know Jake has complicated feelings when it comes to his father, and he’s dead. You’re the next best thing when it comes to closure. After a moment you calmly and neutrally respond to Jakes question.

“When I first met him, I thought he was a very different man. Sure, he was stoic, cold and all business at the Umbrella Labs, but with me he was romantic, charismatic, and thoughtful." You feel like Jake’s gaze is piercing into your soul, so you look away and stare at the ground instead. “Three years I thought that. Then the mansion incident happened, and everything changed for the worse.”

“Romantic? Hmph. Yeah sure…”

You frown and let out a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping in the process, and you respond in a tired tone. “Has there ever been anyone in your life that you trusted with your whole being and they ended up being someone you didn’t even recognize?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jake cross his arms and scowl become more prominent. Another sensitive subject. You move on.

“He was unfathomably good at making you believe he was someone else. He did it with me. He did it with his S.T.A.R.S. squad at R.P.D. He even did it to Umbrella. In the end, he was just a power-starved monster.”

“R.P.D? He was a cop too?”

You turn your head back towards Jake in surprise. You would have thought that Albert’s previous jobs were easy pieces of information to get ahold of, but then again, Jake may have not cared enough to know. Jake’s expression is still unreadable apart from his voice dripping with contempt as he asked that question. You keep your answer clinical and to the point. “Yeah. He was a scientific prodigy and worked at Umbrella as a researcher really young. Then one of his projects stalled and he became an Umbrella spy and worked in the U.S. Army and then became the captain of the Rescue Service at the police station. After that: bioterrorist.”

You stop and wait for any follow up questions. When Jake only continues to stare you down, you ask your next question.

“Who knows that he’s your father?”

“Couple of guys in the B.S.A.A. and a handful of government agents. Everyone else who knew is dead. What happened after the Mansion Incident? Between you two? There has to be more to that story.” Jakes expression grows darker and more serious.

The thought crosses your mind that you should lie about how you felt, but you have a feeling that you needed to be open with Jake. He deserves the truth, no matter how unpleasant the answer will be.

“I was devastated. When what was left of his team returned from that mansion, I simply didn't want to believe it. I didn't even know he worked for the R.P.D. before that day, and they’re telling me he led his team to die at a mansion in the mountains with a secret Umbrella lab I didn’t know existed? The whole thing sounded crazy." You stop and choose your next words delicately before continuing.

"You have to understand that I loved him at the time. I was in denial. I was mourning. I didn't know he survived the mansion until the Racoon City incident. He could have let me die in Racoon when everything went to shit but he didn't. Instead, he sent a mercenary after me to rescue me and kept me with him until he was killed."

Jake gives you a long look when you finish, his eyes fixed and unblinking. You can tell he’s digesting your every word as his jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten from the force of his fists clenching with his arms are still crossed.

“… so he saved you?”

His voice is icy, and there’s a dangerous edge to his tone that you’ve never heard before. Each word sounds like it’s taking great effort to force out. “Why?”

A pang of fear goes through you at his change of tone. You hit something sensitive, and you don’t even know what it is, which only makes you more nervous. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Your voice comes out softer than you intend, but you do a good job of masking how intimidated you are by Jake in the moment. Logically, you know he’s probably not going to fly off the handle and do anything to you, but his eyes and expressions are so similar to Albert’s that it’s instinctively putting you on edge.

Unless Albert told you directly, knowing the inner workings of his mind was a challenging task even for you. You’d asked yourself that question and reflected on a possible answer countless times over the years, and each time you came to a slightly different conclusion. On the occasional day where you really missed your marriage before the Mansion Incident, you thought he may have been fond of you in some way. On days like this, your theories were a bit more realistic. You were a means to an end.

Either way, Jake’s eyes are boring into your soul as he’s waiting for you to answer his question.

“At the time, I thought it was because he loved me. But now-” You pause for a moment, desperately trying to gather your thoughts to present them in a way that won’t upset Jake further. “-I have two theories. Either he saw me as an asset with my virology knowledge and kept me close just in case, or he just saw me as something that was his. He almost always used possessives when he addressed me. My darling, my dear, my love. That kind of thing.”

Jake remains silent and his body language still has that edge to it like a cord dangerously close to snapping. You opt to ask a more neutral question.

“How long have you known about Wesker?”

“A year. So he saw you as an asset? You helped him with his plans?”

“No! Fuck no. He definitely wanted me to, but I refused every single time. I still looked at all the lab results and things the he left laying out to stay up to date on what he was planning, but I never gave him feedback.”

“If you refused, why the hell did he keep you around?” Another accusatory, but valid question. Albert wasn’t exactly the forgiving type if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“I think he thought he could wear me down or change my mind eventually. I work fast. I’m good at seeing patterns and remembering small details. My guess is that he didn’t want to get rid of me if there was the possibility of me being useful.” You catch yourself becoming slightly defensive, so you make a conscious effort to reel your emotions in before you ask Jake your question. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Edonia. If you were so against helping him, then why did you stay, huh?”

You’re starting to feel anger boil up in you.

“I was just happy to have my husband back at first! I tried leaving when I realized what he wanted to do. I really did. But by the time I took off the rose colored glasses, I’d seen too much and I was either locked up or he had someone babysitting me so I couldn’t run off. And Edonia? Really? That’s a long way from the U.S. Is that where your mom’s from?”

“Why do you care, huh?” Jake snaps at you, fire in his eyes and nostrils flaring.

You’re slightly taken aback with Jake’s combative response. “Because if anyone finds out she’s associated with Wesker in any way, she’s going to be in danger and needs protection.”

“Don’t need it. She’s dead.” Jake’s face holds no traces of relaxed cockiness like earlier. His expression has morphed into an explosive combination of wrath and pain. “And you know why? Because daddy dearest wasn’t there to pay for her medical bills. He walked out and didn’t fucking look back, yet she still acted like he was this exceptional man who could do no wrong.”

The atmosphere of the room is thick with tension. Even through Jake is a few feet away still leaning on the desk, you feel small and defenseless sitting in your office chair. You feel like the energy in the room could snap at any moment, so you keep your tone sympathetic, but firm.

“I’m sorry about your mom. But you need to believe me when I tell you that you are lucky he was never in your lives-“

“Lucky? That psychopath sent someone to a city that was tearing itself apart to save you but couldn’t send a damn check to save my mom?”

You’ve been patient throughout this whole exchange, and you were resigned to be Jake’s verbal punching bag. But suggesting Albert would have helped Jake’s mother without consequences? That’s the final straw that inevitably makes you lose your composure.

“Did you grow up feeling loved?” The question is sudden. Blurted without thinking of what could come after.

Jake’s angered expression morphs into confusion. “What?”

You know you’re playing with fire with this line of questioning, but you don’t see any other option that will be as effective. “Did your mother… tell you she loved you, make sure you had your coat before leaving the house? Hug you goodbye? Tell you bedtime stories?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Did she?” You don’t back down. You need to make him understand.

“Yeah! She did!”

You nodded. “Good! You wouldn’t have gotten that with Albert. Far from it!”

“Oh yeah? And why do you think that Doc?”

“Is that your question?”

“Answer it.” Jake spits, anger boiling to the surface.

“Do you know anything about Project W?”

You take the silence as a no and continue.

“Albert was a product of one of Oswald Spencer’s projects, founder of Umbrella, headed by Dr. William Wesker. It was a eugenics-based plan to create a race of more intelligent, more fit more whatever superhumans. Your father was essentially raised in a lab.”

You pause to make sure Jake is following your words and keep going.

“There were hundreds of kids in this program. When they were adults, Spencer weeded out a group of thirteen including your father. All of them were given the progenitor virus whether willingly or unknowingly, and only Albert and another woman I’ve never met survived. Albert was the only one who gained superhuman abilities.”

Jake is silent for a moment, then responds, “When you say willingly or unknowingly-”

“Some of these kids didn’t know they were in the program.”

Silence.

“That is where your father came from. You want to know what kind of man he was? He was opportunistic and manipulative. I have no doubt that he would have used you as a guinea pig just like he was. He would have framed it in a way that made it look like he was doing what was best for you too. If he had stayed in your life, you would have been living in a lab waiting for him to shove a needle in your vein as a bonding activity.”

More silence. Jake’s expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t appear angry like before. His eyebrows are scrunched together and he looks at the floor, deep in thought. 

“Jake?” You say, gently. He doesn’t respond.

“Jake. Please look at me.” You try again a little louder, and he turns his head to look at you, Albert’s - Jake’s - pale blue eyes look more understanding.

“Do you understand everything I just told you?”

“Yeah. I just-” Jake pauses. “I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.”

You nod and give him a sympathetic look. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but I don’t think he knew you existed. He would have seen you as an asset and tried to find you otherwise.”

Jake doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head to let you know he heard you.

“Loving him came at a price. Be thankful for the anonymity you have.”

“What was your price?”

Everything.

“My future.” Jake looks at you with an eyebrow raised, so you continue. “Because of the relationship I had with him, it’s impossible to live a normal life. I’ve tried, but there will always be people trying to find me to recruit me or kill me because of that.” You say this off-handedly. You’ve become used to this kind of life to the point where happenings like this feel routine.

You and Jake sit in silence. Jake’s presence doesn’t emit that aura of anger anymore.

“That’s not fair to you.”

You give Jake a wry smile.

“It’s not fair that he’s your father. We can’t change the past. But we can try to make the future a bit less shitty.” You quip.

Jake chuckles a little at that comment, and his smirk finally returns.

“You’re not-” Jake stops, and you wait for him to finish, “-how I expected you to be.”

“…thanks?” You reply, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Jake snorts at your comment. “And uh… sorry I got heated for a minute there.”

You give Jake a dismissive wave. “Hey, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten my ass chewed out because of Wesker, and it’s not going to be the last. At least yours was warranted. You love your mom. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Appreciate it.” Jake replies, his smirk disappearing after a moment.

“I’ve got one more… personal question.” Jake looks at you, a dark intensity to his gaze.

You nod. ”Go for it. You deserve to know.”

“Do you have any children?” After a long, silent pause, Jake’s eyes lose their intensity and he gives you a small, sympathetic look.

You give Jake a sad smile. “No. No we… everything I said before about bonding activities? That’s not anecdotal. Just conjecture. Just-“ You gesture to Jake. “You.”

That I know of.

You clear your throat. “How old are you, by the way? I’m just curious-”

“You don’t need to finish that, I get it. Twenty.”

“You look older.”

“Mercenary work and a civil war will do that to ya.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.”

You shift in your seat from the awkward turn of events and say your thoughts out loud. “Let’s see…” You do the math in your head. “That would’ve been ’92. I met him in ’95. We got married in ’97...”

“And everything with Umbrella went to shit in ’98.” Jake finishes.

You feel the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

The alarm outside the room suddenly stops, and you hear a hissing noise from the hallway outside. You look to the door, then back at Jake. “I’ll tell you more later. We gotta get moving.”

You stand up from your chair and check the panel on the door. Still red. It’s going to take a minute or two for the gas to filter out of the hallway. You look over your shoulder at Jake.

“Did you end up finding that sample by the way? Or a way to contact the Tokyo base?”

Jake frowns and checks his pistol. “No, but I have a better idea of where those things could be.”

 You sigh and shake your head. “Better than nothing, I guess. Any theories?”

Jake shrugs. “Half this place used to be a military base and the other half an Umbrella lab that’s had some renovations. The old lab holds the old samples-”

“So the newer part of the lab should have the new samples and the military part should have a radio?”

Jake smirks and points at you. “If everything goes right, we’ll be outta here by sunset.”

The office door panel beeps and lights up green. You smile and slide the red card and the door swooshes open. You look back to Jake. “I like the sound of that. Let’s go.”

As you both walk back out into the hallway, you notice it’s still eerily empty. However, the security doors are still engaged at both ends of the hallway. You and Jake walk over to the door you were heading through before the lockdown. You scan the red keycard and it declines. You huff and scan the black keycard, and you hear the lock disengage and the security doors split open and return their respectful halves to the floor and ceiling. You look at the black keycard with a stern look as Jake walks though.

“Only guards can open security doors? That sounds like a shitshow waiting to happen.”

“You an expert on security now too? C’mon we’ve got a schedule to-”

Jake is cut off by a loud buzzer, followed by the security doors slamming shut so you and Jake are on opposite sides. Jake hurries up to the doors and looks at you through one of the small windows in the middle.

“What the hell? Try the card again maybe it’s a timer thing.”

You scan the black card again, but it returns an error message. You shake your head in annoyance, but then it turns into concern when you hear shouting and footsteps from the direction of the observation rooms you were held in.

“It’s giving me an error message. Try yours on that side!” You shout at Jake through the door.

You see Jake’s face as he scans the panel on his side but based on how Jake grits his teeth in frustration he’s probably not having any better luck than you. You hear shouting and footsteps growing louder. Jake notices and tries to pry open the security doors with his hands. You scan the red card again, but it also returns an error message.

“Shit! Jake, they know which cards we took and deactivated them. They’re no good!”

You throw down the cards and take a few steps back to get a better look at the hallway to find an alternate route or some structural weakness in the door arch, but you notice nothing. The sounds of guards shouting and running are getting even closer. Your only chance of getting out of here is Jake. He can’t be here when you’re ultimately discovered.

You hurry back up to one of the windows on the security door to shout at Jake. “You need to go, now!”

Jake ignores you and keeps looking for purchase on the door, but it’s too smooth to get a decent grip to pull it open.

“Jake!” You scold.

Jake pauses to look at you, scowling.

“They obviously want me alive I’ll be fine. You find that sample and radio for help. I’ll stall for as long as I can.”

Jake’s scowl on his face deepens as he tries to open the mechanical door again, but his efforts are fruitless. He finally slams a hand on the door and lets out an annoyed huff and looks back at you through the window.

“You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

More yelling and bangs echo down the hall.

“More than likely, yes. Just be quick about it. I’d rather not be a lab rat if I can help it.”

Jake takes one more analyzing look at the door and gives you a curt nod, clearly not happy with the new set of circumstances.

“Don’t say anything that’ll piss em’ off more.”

“No promises, now go!”

You turn around at the sound of the opposite security door opening, and you hear Jake’s footsteps grow further and further before they disappear and are replaced with the stomping of a battalion of gas masked soldiers. A group of eight quickly block off your only exit and train their semi-automatic TMP’s on you. Seeing as you’re heavily outnumbered, you put your hands up in surrender.

As you do, a wiry man a little taller than you walks leisurely through the intimidating crowd of masked faces. He wears a suit under a pristine white lab coat and looks at you with cold eyes through a pair of square glasses.

“Where is Muller, Doctor?”

You recognize the lilting voice immediately. This is Youju. Your immediate impression is that he’s much too young to be the director of this facility. But then again, Umbrella is chock full of young prodigies. Time to buy Jake some time.

“I could care less about where he went. As I told you before, he’s not my son.”

“I see.” Youju walks a few steps past the line of guards towards you and looks at the mechanical door behind you, skeptical.

“Why stop here Dr. Wesker? Why this door?”

“Because your security system needs some work. It closed and it can’t be opened.” You reply, curtly.

“Then why didn’t you run?”

“I’ve been in enough scrapes to know when I’ve been backed into a corner.” It’s not a lie. Even though your main goal is to distract these people, you know when you’re beat. Especially when you have an overwhelming handful of guns trained on you.

Youju frowns. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where. Is. Muller?”

“I. Don’t. Know. We went our separate ways when it became convenient.” You reply condescendingly, already tired of answering Youju’s questions.

Youju narrows his eyes at you, calculating his response. “Very well then. Since you’re so keen on seeing what amenities this facility has to offer, allow me to give you a guided tour.”

“I’d rather go back to my room. I’ve had enough cardio for today.”

Youju waves his hand and the guards put their guns down, save for one who quickly positions himself behind you with his gun still aimed at your back. Youju gives you a chilling smile. “I must insist, Doctor.”

As Youju walks back through the crowd of guards, he announces one more command to the crowd of guards.

“Find the other one. Alive. Maim him if you must, but ensure he is brought to me in one piece.”

Not ten minutes later, Youju and his guard lead you deeper into the facility, seemingly with one destination in mind for your guided tour. Youju leads the way in front of you, while the soldier trails behind never once lowering his weapon. He seems to be leading you into the newly renovated parts of the lab. There are no windows into the many rooms you pass so you have no inkling of what could be going on behind closed doors, but Youju ignores all of them in favor of the main lab at the center of the facility.

He scans a white key card and a large lock disengages from the mechanism in the middle of the door, spinning until it’s completely free before the doors finally open to reveal another set of sliding doors. Youju scans the card again and enters with you and the soldier right behind him.

It's a room with several scientists checking over miscellaneous machines and monitors, as well as fridges with multiple different colored chemical substances. All of them periodically glance over their respective stations and into the observation chamber below through the window that takes up the entire expanse of the wall opposite the door. A handful of soldiers line the wall in the back of the room. Youju saunters in and stands by a monitor that flickers to show a different part of the facility every fifteen seconds or so. A microphone stands idly next to it. Youju trains his dark eyes on you, a barely noticeable sly smile on his face.

“Welcome to the inner sanctum, Doctor. I would like your thoughts on my latest and greatest project.”

You cross your arms defiantly and shift your weight with a bored expression on your face. “As I said before, I have no interest in any job you have to offer me.”

“I didn’t offer you employment. I only ask that you take a cursory look. I assure you, he will be of great interest to you.” Youju speaks in that same, know-it-all tone from when you were stuck in your quarters. Like he wants you to figure out his point.

Better yet, who’s ‘he?’

You roll your eyes and humor him.

You look over the consoles and into the chamber below. There are illuminated chambers filled with substances you don’t recognize and over a dozen machines tracking something you can’t discern from this distance. The cylindrical tank in the middle of the room is the focal point of the observation chamber. It glows with a foreboding orange light, illuminating the space in between itself and you. At first, you can’t tell what the tank holds with the light emanating from it shining in your eyes. When your eyes adjust to the light, one by one you notice features of the creature inside; you see the outline of a man. Then notice one of its arms is much longer and darker than the other. The scar tissue across its chest. Then, most devastatingly, disheveled, slicked back blonde hair.

Your heart drops and your annoyed expression shifts into something much more terrified.

“Where… that’s not…”

But it was. Behind the glass in the chamber below was the body of a mutated Albert Wesker floating in a liquid filled chamber. His chest and legs are overtaken by burnt scar tissue, but otherwise look about the same as the last time you saw him; although you don’t like to think about that series of events.

The bomber. The volcano. The helicopter that he almost pulled down into the lava with him. Any one of those scenarios could have easily ended with your death, the world ending or Uroboros in your arm. Not that the three were that different regarding the death part.

 The last time you saw Wesker, he had mutated into the monster he had become on the inside. His snake eyes glowed red, black Uroboros burst from beneath his skin around his eyes, worms of Uroboros completely overtook his chest and arms, which he could stretch to great lengths, and he was altogether consumed by rage. Rage against Chris for besting him once again, rage against himself for underestimating him, and you were certain rage against you for betraying him.

You stare blankly into the chamber as the reality of the situation sets in: Youju went to great lengths to find Albert. You didn’t know how he could have found him after so long, but you knew this man had to mine through volcanic rock at best and perform an underwater excavation of a volcano at worst to exhume him. Whatever he has planned, it can only spell doom for whatever unfortunate soul falls in Albert’s wake. Your body can’t bring itself to move, so you stand frozen by the console of the observation room overlooking the chamber Albert is in.

“The union of Wesker and Uroboros is truly a remarkable miracle of nature,” Youju says smugly, relishing in your shock.

All you can do in the moment is gape at your husband in horror.

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Your voice comes out small. Rattled. Nothing like how you planned when you stepped into this room.

“Natural? That’s a matter of perspective, Doctor. We are seeing evolution in real time.” Youju is enjoying your torment, but there is a pit forming in your stomach that is screaming for you to talk sense into him. You know in your bones that this is a bad idea, but you can’t articulate it into words that will break through to the Director. You knew men like him. He won’t listen until it’s too late, but you try anyway.

“Whatever you’re planning is not worth the consequences you’re going to reap from playing God.” You still stare at Wesker’s peaceful, mutated face.

“I assure you it will be. Your husband is an incredible case study. He was medically dead when we found him, but you know as well as I do that the dead don’t tend to stay that way for long in our profession. Uroboros preserved his brain and nervous system better than any modern medical instrument you or I could have hoped to have at our disposal.” Youju explains with pride.

“Weapon, DNA, or emotional blackmail?” You reply cooly, still staring at Wesker in the chamber below.

“Whichever has the highest bidder. Although I think the value of a subject like him transcends material wealth, so I’ll hold off on an auction for now. I have more pressing plans first.”

You break your gaze from Wesker’s body in the chamber and look at Youju with a cautious expression, curious as to what he means.

“We know his brain is showing activity, but he hasn’t woken up you see. All the regular avenues for breaking comatose states have been exhausted.”

Youju turns to the chamber and puts his hand on the window thoughtfully as he speaks.

“Sure, we could harvest his DNA and easily make our investment in excavating him a drop in the bucket. As you’ve said, his DNA is one in a trillion. But it’s not just his DNA that makes him unique, it’s his mind as well. He was- is- the greatest mind manufactured by man. By Oswald Spencer himself. What I would give to speak with him! To know his thoughts on my research. To continue where Spencer was forced to stop.”

The Director looks away from Wesker and back to you, with a giddy look you know all too well. It’s a dissecting look of a scientist attempting to peel away the mystery of an unsolved problem.

“But then one of my researchers had an interesting hypothesis. This is not a regular subject so normal avenues are more than likely going to prove fruitless. Perhaps Wesker needs a familiar face as an extra incentive to chat with us. Someone who knew him much more personally than anyone else. Someone like you. We’ve already tried recordings of your voice, and they’ve yielded positive results, but not the one’s we’re looking for.”

“The saying ‘you should never meet your heroes,’ definitely applies in this case. You need to quit while you’re ahead. You’re inviting nothing but trouble by indulging this fantasy.” You warn, unable to wipe the look of barely contained terror on your face.

Youju tilts his head and gives you a mocking pout.

“Awww… what’s wrong Dr. Wesker? I thought this would be a happy reunion for you. After all, you survived him. He respected your intellect. It’s not every day that a genius offers his lover a place beside him in a new world. And don’t deny it. I’ve seen the footage of him offering you Uroboros on multiple occasions. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say those weren’t the only times he tried to convince you.”  

“Director, you need to stop-”

“Not until I get what I want.” Youju’s gaze turns cold and he flips a switch on the console in front of you both. A red light above it switches to green. The guard behind you raises his gun to your head. Youju turns his face towards the microphone but keeps his eyes on you.

“Albert Wesker, you have a visitor. A personal visitor. Go ahead and say hello my dear.”

You avoid looking into the chamber and keep your mouth shut while staring down Youju. You would rather die than awaken that monster.

“Your wife is here to see you Dr. Wesker. Mrs. Doctor Wesker, if you know what’s good for you, please speak into the microphone.” The tone the Director uses reminds you of a car salesman; sleazy and said with a gritted smile. Attempting to get you to bend to his will no matter the cost if it gets you to sign the metaphorical dotted line.

When you keep your mouth shut, Youju motions to the guard behind you and you feel the cold steel of the muzzle of the gun on the back of your head. Your breath becomes unsteady, but you stay silent. He needs you. He wouldn’t kill you so quickly when he needs you. You’re sure of it.

“You know I’m not a patient man dear. Speak, or I will make you.” Youju spits out the warning, his patience already wearing thin.

You clench your jaw and stay silent. You fully intend to stay quiet, even though the urge to call Youju a dumb motherfucker is strong. You see a flicker on one of the cameras on Youju’s monitor. A figure. You weren’t going to pay it any mind, but even out of the corner of your eye you recognize the large scar on the side of Jake’s face.

Youju lets out an annoyed huff at your continued silence, currently unaware of Jake’s presence. “I wanted to avoid making this messy, but it seems you’ve left me with no other option.”

Youju turns around and starts to bend down towards a drawer below the monitor. You panic. Jake is your only hope in getting the B.S.A.A. here. You can’t let his stealth go to waste.

“Albert!” You spit out the name without thinking. You already feel sick to your stomach at your choice of action, but it has its intended effect immediately. Youju snaps his attention away from the monitor’s direction and back to you, then back to the chamber, then to a monitor off to the side that you now realize is displaying brainwave activity. His brainwave activity. You hadn’t noticed it before because the brainwaves were barely perceptible, only small mole hills on a nearly straight line. Now, like a rising tide, the red wave on the monitor grows in intensity along with your heartbeat.

Youju stares at the monitor with you in awe, then turns his attention to the chamber while speaking to you. “Go on. Tell him to wake up.”

“Albert dear?” You pause to take a shallow breath of air. The red wave rises higher on the monitor. “I need you to wake up.”

The more the red wave rises, the more animated the other scientists in the room become. Youju most of all. Everyone buzzes with excitement over their machines and data displaying on the screens, but all you can do is stare at Wesker in the chamber with a lump in your throat.

You have an idea on how to get the upper hand. It’s stupid, suicidal, and against everything your brain is telling you not to do, but if it works it’s an almost guaranteed way for these people to lock you in your room again until the B.S.A.A. can get here with proper reinforcements.

“Albert help me they have a gun to my head!”

Almost immediately, beeping sounds emanate from each and every machine in the room. One by one, every piece of machinery has warning lights on their displays and nervous chattering erupts from the scientists. The red wave on the brainwave monitor devolves into jittery valleys and peaks. You see Wesker in his water chamber twitching, and his peaceful face morph into an angered scowl that you know all too well.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Youju scolds as he switches off the microphone. He grabs your shoulder in a tight grip and walks you back closer to the door away from the window seemingly the only one not concerned with the sudden uptick in activity on the monitors and more peeved at your little stunt.

“That’s enough from you for now Doctor.” He turns his attention to the guard behind you. “Take her back to-”

Youju’s command is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking, a rush of water and metal screeching in the chamber below. Youju’s eyes grow wide and he immediately rushes back over to the window. He turns his head to say something, but before he’s able to, a pipe breaks through the glass of the observation chamber and into Youju’s skull with so much force that blood splatters on you from across the room and you stumble to the floor in your shock.

All hell breaks loose. Some scientists scream, others duck and cover, a handful try and fail to open the door to the hallway, the soldier leaves your side and open fires on Wesker in the chamber along with the other ones in the room.

You can’t seem to escape from the bloodshed. No matter where you turn, more blood splashes across your clothes but you manage to keep your escape in mind: grab Youju’s white keycard to get out of the room. You do your best to block out the grisly sight of Youju’s head as you army crawl across the floor. The white keycard, now stained crimson in some places, hangs precariously from his belt. A black and blonde blur dives into the room from the chamber and the screams grow louder and more frightened. You grab the keycard and you crawl behind a large cabinet that got overturned in the chaos in the corner of the room and make yourself as small as possible by hugging your knees to your chest. You clutch the keycard for dear life.

Meanwhile, in the background, you hear Wesker spewing insults as he tears through the room.

“Ignorant cretins! Worthless, self-righteous chaff! Inferior good for nothing fools!”

Something in Wesker’s voice puts you on edge, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s seething with rage or leaving a trail of blood and viscera and broken machinery in his wake. You can’t quite describe it, other than that it sounds wrong. The voice is Wesker’s, but the tone and intonation are just… off. Your Wesker spoke in a much sharper and eloquent manner. This voice is direct and garbled in some places.

In the moment, you don’t know which voice you’d prefer. You don’t have time to think on it when you feel a presence behind you. It’s only now that you realize the screams and cries of pain have gone silent. Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice in your ear that makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“My dear? Oh, how I’ve missed you my sweet…”    

You freeze. His tone is uncannily gentle. He’s so close, you can feel Wesker’s breath on your ear and neck. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like Wesker’s words have you under a paralytic spell.            

“How dare they touch what’s not theirs…”

A wet, slimy and black tendril slowly makes its way into the corner of your vision and gingerly tucks a flyaway hair behind your ear. You can’t bring yourself to move and you heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest it's beating so fast.

You sense Wesker move his head closer to yours until you can feel the damp heat of him over your shoulder. Glass breaks on the other side of the room and he whips his head towards the sound. There’s one last scientist left. She’s trying to climb into the observation chamber, but she stepped on a piece of glass and now she’s gaping at Wesker in fear.

Wesker attacks her with the bloodlust of a wild animal, plunging his Uroboros arm into her chest and not stopping his assault until it reveals itself again when it pokes out through her mouth. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Only gurgle sounds of pain.

The grisly sight finally breaks the spell, and you bolt to the sliding doors and run the second the door registers Youju’s keycard.

You don’t stop when you hear Albert calling your name behind you.

You don’t stop when you see other guards and scientists coming out into the hallway to observe what caused such deafening, monstrous noises.  

You don’t stop when you hear more screaming and gunfire erupting behind you.

You have no destination in mind when the hallways become unrecognizable.

The only thing consuming your thoughts is the fact that your psychopathic husband is alive, and that you’ve doomed the world because you destroyed the only Uroboros sample in existence to stop him in a misguided attempt to save it.

a/n 2: How's that for angst? More juiciness in the next part :)

If you've made it this far THANK YOU and sorry for this part being long I thought it would ruin the flow to split it up into two parts.

Tag List: @killerwendigo

[zzzzombieboy]

I want a Carlos x male reader so badly but the creative juices are not flowing.

u asked the right guy cuz guess who’s back from his break 😝 ps sorry it’s short i’m sick and tired

Carlos Oliveira x M! Reader

“So, uh, you met the new guy?”

Carlos leaned up against the Umbrella Corps laboratory level doors, arms folded over his chest. The man standing next to him was trying to strike up a conversation he had no interest in, but the words ‘new guy’ seemed to have caught his attention. His black curls fell over his face as he glanced back over to the other guard. “What new guy?” he asked, one leg buckling as he shifted his weight.

The other man’s eyes seemed to grow wider once he finally got a response out of Carlos. He cleared his throat. “You know, uh, that kid. Like 22 or something, came in this morning.” explained the guard. Carlos narrowed his eyes. Way to be unspecific.

Carlos looked back ahead of him, the florescent lights beaming down on the white tile below him. One of his boots laces were untied. He didn’t bother to fix it. “Huh.” Carlos replied with a huff, his finger tapping against his right arm. His job was boring. He sculpted his body to be one like the gods, and all he gets to do is stand around all day and watch nerds with lab coats walk into doors.

The other guard seemed nervous. He gave a small lighthearted chuckle. “Apparently he’s got an in with Birkin or something. Dunno what. My guess is he’s a fuckin’ nepo baby or somethin’.” muttered the guard. Carlos let out a breath out of his nose, trying to imitate a laugh. He was uninterested. He was more interested in seeing who this guy was. No description, no background, he had to see what he was like.

Carlos stretched his arms up above his head, hearing a small crack. It felt nice. His body felt stiff constantly at his job. The other guard looked to Carlos, watching his expression carefully. He decided to stop talking, for the sake of Carlos’ boredom and his own dignity.

What felt like hours passed by with no word coming from the two of them. The sun for higher and higher, causing a beam of light to reach through the windows. Carlos focused on that to give him any semblance of entertainment, watching it slowly shift by each minute.

Then there was a click of a door opening down the hall, followed by boot footsteps. Carlos knew that it wasn’t one of the lab rats. It was another guard. He squinted, waiting for the footsteps to come around the corner. They had a certain lightness to them that was odd to see when it came to his coworkers. His eyes widened once the guard reached around the wall.

He wasn’t remarkable by any means, but there was something about him that Carlos seemed utterly fascinated by. His jaw seemed tensed as his eyes flickered between the two guards at the door. He flipped a pen between his fingers, looping it over and over again before giving the guard next to Carlos a nod. The guard walked off. The new guy had broad shoulders, deep, almost sunken eyes that could pry into somebodies mind with ease. His shirt seemed to hug his body in the perfect way, giving him more than enough room to show off. His lips formed a small pout naturally. His hair framed his face. He was perfect.

Carlos swallowed as he watched the man replace the guard. He cleared his throat absentmindedly, giving the new guy another once over before speaking. “Hey.” Carlos spoke, his voice cracking slightly at the beginning but holding the baritone that he often spoke in. “You’re the uh, new kid, right? I’m Carlos.” He introduced himself, not bothering to hold out his hand for the other to shake. He didn’t seem like he was very keen on touching.

The man glanced over at Carlos, his eyes flickering along every bit of Carlos’ features, analyzing them. It made Carlos feel naked — like he was being stripped down to his bare soul. The man adjusted his jaw, making a small clicking sound come from the bone. The man never locked eyes with Carlos. “Y/N.” replied the guard, stuffing one hand into his pocket while the other rested by his hip. His voice was low, gravelly almost. It was clear he was a man of solitude. Carlos’ lips parted slightly, giving a slight nod.

Carlos’ eyes seemed to be stuck on Y/N. There was just something about him that was so alluring. Carlos had been struggling recently with himself. The way he felt whenever he saw a man that fit his type made his stomach turn. He knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Not yet. But something about Y/N just made him want to drop everything and run away with the guy.

Y/N nibbled on his lower lip absentmindedly, brining Carlos to notice how scarred they already were. It was clear it was a habit. Y/N brought his hand up and scratched the side of his face, a small patch of unshaved stubble at the area. Carlos noticed however, on the back of his hand, there was a tattoo. He widened his mouth, trying to prepare himself to ask the question.

“What’s with the tattoo?” asked Carlos. He recognized how it sounded. “I- Like, what does it mean?” he corrected himself, staring at the tattoo with curious eyes. The tattoo was of the male gender symbol intertwined with another. Y/N paused for a moment, following Carlos’ gaze. He pulled his hand away from his face, looking at the tattoo.

Y/N never really liked explaining this one. It was the 90’s, and it’s not exactly the safest one that you could have out in the open. But Y/N was strong, and he intimidated most. He wasn’t in any physical danger if he explained it. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet awkwardly. “Means I play for the same team chicks do.” he muttered, his voice softer than it was previously, like he didn’t want anyone to hear it. He crammed his hand back into his pocket.

Carlos furrowed his brows. He didn’t know what that could mean, taking more than a few seconds to process it. Then it clicked. He was gay. Carlos’ eyes widened a bit, his lips parting wider as he let out a somewhat shaky gasp/sigh. “Ah… I, uh, I gotcha.” replied Carlos, clearing his throat before looking back ahead. It was like these thoughts followed him everywhere he went. No matter how much he tried to push them away, they always came back to bite. His face felt hot, but luckily Y/N wouldn’t be able to see the reaction because of Carlos’ darker complexion.

It was quiet for a while. Neither of them spoke, the only sound made was light breaths and small sniffles of the nose. Carlos continued to let his mind wander, and that proved to only make his issue worse. It was less than an hour the two had been next to each other, and Carlos seemed to be crushing on this guy like a school girl.

It remained that way until Carlos’ shift was over.

To take his mind off of the newfound feelings he had, he wanted to get a drink. His newfound privilege as a 21 year old was proving to be helpful when he wanted to push back his feelings. He didn’t abuse it however, but he frequented a few bars around town when he didn’t have anything better to do.

He found himself at a bar that remained nameless. Most people called it ‘The Safe Room,’ but others just named it after the street it was on. He sat on a stool, the bartender across from him cleaning a glass. It was quiet in the building, only a few people here late on a Wednesday night. He was nursing a bottle of beer, his eyes focused on the TV that was playing a baseball game from a few years back. His eyes were halfway closed, feeling exhausted from his long shift and the thoughts that were burning a hole in his head.

The bell rang near the door. Someone had walked in.

Speak of the devil.

Y/N pushed the bar door open, the bartenders head perking up once the two made eye contact. They nodded at each other. Y/N seemed to be a regular at the bar. He had only been the legal age to drink for a year, yet somehow he already managed to make himself at home in many bars around Raccoon City.

Carlos looked over his shoulder as he heard the bell ring. Y/N walked in with the same demeanor he did when he walked into his first day of work. His outfit was different though. He wore a much baggier tank top, and jeans cinched around his waist with a brown belt. Around his neck he wore two dog tags. His hair was much scruffier than it was at work, but it worked on him well. Carlos’ eyes seemed to widen when he saw the change. His heart started to pound.

Y/N looked around the bar for a brief moment before locking eyes with Carlos. They seemed to share a similar gaze of surprise, Y/N’s scarred lips slightly parting as he furrowed his brows. He rolled his shoulders back before giving Carlos a nod. It seemed to be his go to greeting.

Carlos gave a meek smile in response, but seemed to bite down on the inside of his cheek when Y/N started to walk towards Carlos. The two didn’t meet eyes, Y/N’s footsteps echoing throughout the empty bar before he sat down on a stool beside Carlos. He looked to the bartender, who seemed to know exactly what he wanted before he ordered it. Y/N glanced back over to Carlos, trailing his tongue over his teeth.

Y/N folded his arms over the wooden bar top, leaning against his before looking back to Carlos. He observed again, looking at the difference Carlos wore outside of work. His hair looked the same, and he had the same look in his eyes. Y/N let out a soft breath before speaking up.

“I gotta say, I didn’t peg you for a gay guy.” he spoke, watching as the bartender slid him a glass of gin. He was quick to put the glass up to his lips, taking a small sip. Carlos’ eyes widened at the words, his lips parting slightly. How the hell did he find out?

Carlos looked back over to Y/N, feeling his cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment. “What?” he started, his grip around the bottle tightening slightly as he darted his eyes around Y/N’s face. “What gave you that idea?”

Y/N looked back at him. He gave a slightly amused, but confused laugh at Carlos’ question. “Brother, we’re at a gay bar.” he replied, taking another sip of his gin. “Did the fact that I’m here not give it away?” he chuckled softly, setting the glass back down onto the wood top. Carlos’ eyes widened further. “Seriously?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N let out a small laugh once again. “Yeah, man.” he replied. Carlos looked around for a brief moment, his lips parted nervously before he ducked his head down in embarrassment. “God…” he muttered under his breath, his dark curls falling over his eyes briefly before he pushed the strands away. Y/N raised an amused brow at the shame that Carlos was showing.

“What, you too good for this place?” asked Y/N, a slight smile spreading across his scarred lips, folding one leg over the other. His expression was somewhat smug, waiting for the look on Carlos’ face to shift again. He was interested in Carlos for whatever reason, having seen the odd glances that Carlos’ kept giving him when they were at work. Carlos looked back at him, his eyes fluttering at the words before shaking his head. “No,” Carlos replied swiftly, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. “I just — Y’know, It— It- god,” He stuttered over his words, covering his face with his hand in any attempt to save his dignity. Y/N figured him out.

Trailing his tongue over his teeth, Y/N gave Carlos a little nudge with his hand. “Hey, you don’t gotta explain anything to me. I know that look.” he spoke, his smile growing wider. It felt odd to see such a stoic man with a grin across his face. He was clearly amused. “I’ll just tell ya, sooner than later you gotta face the music.” he told Carlos, leaning his head forward slightly so he could see Carlos more clearly.

Carlos felt exposed. Y/N had him figured out from just a simple sentence. Carlos let out a heavy breath, turning back over to Y/N with his brows furrowed. “I don’t know, man, it’s complicated.” He breathed. He was already a little tipsy, and he had a tendency to blurt out things he wouldn’t want anyone to know. “I don’t… I dunno. I dunno.” I muttered.

Y/N raised a brow. “I think you know.” he replied. Carlos let out a sigh. He pushed his hair back with his hands. Y/N’s eyes looked over Carlos with a sympathetic gaze, his tongue clicking. Another small breath escaped Y/N’s lips as he glanced over Carlos. He found himself lingering on his arms, his body. Something about Carlos was alluring. He was quite handsome.

The two remained silent, a knowing silence. They both continued to take small sips of their drink, staring forward.

“You’re a good looking guy, Carlos.” Y/N blurted. Carlos’ eyes flickered a bit before looking back over to Y/N. He felt his face heat. “I mean it.”

Carlos let out a small breath, trying to push back his pounding heart and return to his normal charm. “Are you flirting with me?” he asked, raising a brow. Y/N looked back at him with a smile perking at the side of his mouth. “Maybe.” he replied, taking another sip of his gin. Carlos let out a small laugh, biting on on the inside of his lip. “Maybe, huh? Haven’t decided yet?” he replied, taking another small swig of his beer. They had a back and forth going now. Y/N liked that.

“Haven’t decided if I wanna break HR rules yet, more like.” he replied. Carlos let out another laugh through his nose, looking off to the side for a brief moment before his gaze landed back onto the man next to him. “Good answer.” he spoke.

Y/N started to bite on his lip again, his breath coming through his nose as there was another silence. Carlos’ gaze looked back to his lips. “You shouldn’t do that, y’know.” spoke Carlos, giving a small nod to the habit. Y/N’s lips were perfectly fitted to his face, perfectly round and colored. Y/N paused for a moment, his chewing on his skin stopping as he looked back to Carlos. He raised a brow.

“Why’s that?” asked Y/N, his thumb brought up to his face and swiping the area he was chewing. A small blotch of blood appeared on his finger.

Carlos nodded his head to the spot. “That’s why.” He replied.

Y/N let out a small sigh, wiping the bit of blood off on his shirt. A bit unsanitary, but he didn’t care anymore. He had done way worse things. Carlos watched curiously, a brow raised. “Lip’s bleeding.” he spoke, pointing to Y/N’s pouted lip with a sliver of red across it. Y/N let out a huff, looking back at Carlos. “No shit.” He replied.

Carlos looked back over Y/N’s face. The dim lighting of the bar hit his face in such an attractive way, lighting up each refined feature with a soft orange. Carlos felt a warmth in his chest, letting out a heavy yet soft breath. His hair fell over his forehead, shifting his head slightly. Y/N’s lips looked so inviting at the moment. His heart raced.

Y/N let out a soft breath, wiping his hand over his face before looking back over to Carlos. “I don’t like a lotta people, you know.” He spoke, eyes still refusing to make contact with Carlos’. “And I don’t know you well. And we work together.” he continued.

Carlos raised a brow. Where was he going with this?

“But,” he added. There it was.

“I think you’re interesting.”

Carlos was at odds with what that could mean. Given the context, he assumed that it was positive. The look in Y/N’s eyes showed a slight passion behind his words, even if the two weren’t making eye contact. “Interesting?” Carlos repeated, hoping that the man would elaborate.

Y/N let out a soft breath through his nose. “I think you’re… Interesting. Yeah,” He uttered. “You’re an interesting case.”

Carlos was still left in the same curiosity as he was before.

“I think you’re interesting too.” Carlos replied, folding one arm over the other. “As interesting a security guard can be.” he nudged Y/N with a playful smile spread across his face. Y/N let out a light laugh, ducking his head down before taking another sip of his drink.

Y/N bit down on his tongue for a short moment. His hair shifted as he moved his head, his eyes flickering around Carlos’ face for a few seconds. “I’ll be honest,” He spoke softly, setting his glass back against the bar. “You caught my eye when I walked in today.” he sighed softly. Carlos let his eyes fall back to Y/N’s lips. He felt his stomach turn.

“Oh yeah?” asked Carlos, his lips curving up into a smile. “Am I that charming?” he asked, taking another sip of his beer. Y/N chuckled softly. “Yeah. Sure.” he replied, an amused tone in his voice.

Carlos smiled, biting down on his lower lip. His face felt hot. He could hear his heart pounding over the distant chatter of the bar. Y/N could see his expression. He thought it was cute. “I’m not very smooth,” spoke Y/N softy. “Forgive me if I’m a, y’know, not as evidently charming as you are.” he laughed softly, taking another sip of his gin.

Carlos smiled softly at his words. He scratched the side of his face, fingers against the stubble on his stubble. “It’s alright. I know it can be hard talking to a godsent angel like me.” he spoke confidently, looking at Y/N smugly. Y/N snickered at the comment, his grin growing wider. Carlos liked his smile. It looked good on him.

“You’re cute.” Y/N spoke softly, his teeth partly peeking out of his lips as he smiled. Carlos’ face brightened when he heard the words, looking back to Y/N with a cheeky grin. He felt like he was on top of the world. His worries about himself and how he felt seemed to be washing away in the presence of this man.

“Cute enough for you to break HR rules?” asked Carlos, leaning his arms up against the bar top. Y/N let out a soft breath, his hand wiping over his face for a brief moment as he gave Carlos another once-over. He clicked his tongue, shifting his body so that he was facing Carlos.

He set his glass back down. “Not sure yet,” spoke Y/N. “But you… I dunno. You got my fancy.” he spoke, his eyes trailing down to Carlos’ lips. They seemed to have the same idea in mind. Y/N leaned forward a bit, pausing to glance into Carlos’ eyes. They were dilated, however hard it was to see considering the dim lighting, and the barely visible contrast from his deep brown eyes to his pupils.

Carlos felt his face heat. His lips parted slightly when he realized the small distance that was now between them. His breath went heavy, his heart pounding and his stomach turning. And before he knew it, his lips were pressed up against Y/N’s.

Carlos felt his body melt as soon as he could realize what was happening. Y/N’s hand went against Carlos’ shoulder, both their eyes closed and a sudden warmth forming between the two of them. It was slow, and gentle. Carlos let out a small sigh against Y/N’s lips, his body leaning against the other man’s out of instinct. His hand moved and rested on Y/N’s shoulder, holding the two of them together for a few moments before Y/N broke away. It was short but sweet. Carlos’ face held an invisible flush, his cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

Y/N’s voice was slightly breathy as he spoke again, liking his lips for a brief moment before looking back to Carlos. “If you uh, keep entertaining me while we’re standing around, I’ll break the rules. More rules.” he spoke, correcting himself at the end with a smile spread across his face.

Carlos’ eyes opened back up, swallowing at the words. His breath was heavy as a similar, but more excited smile spread across his face. “Okay,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked back at the man in front of him.

[blueysobssesions]

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

(Want to be added? Just ask/message me!)

[shalotttower]

Masterlist

Will be updated.

⛪ Far Cry 5:

Bound - It's been two months since you ended up in a bunker with Joseph Seed. Yandere!Joseph Seed Headcanons (General)

A Heart Deceived - AU where soulmates share the same marking and Jacob doesn't have to brand you any further.

👑 Far Cry 4:

📖 Death Note:

The Unknown Variable (L x Reader) - Special was never your brand. Now the weight of it is simply too heavy. A Natural Benefit (L x Reader) - L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.

🔪 Slashers:

Darling, Darling - The way he cradles you to his chest is almost reverent, like you are something precious. Bubba delivers a lesson after you tried to run away. Sweetcheeks (Billy Lenz x Reader) - You've been getting these odd calls for several months now. Pholcus phalangioides (Asa Emory x Reader) - There's a spider in your bathroom, it lives under the mirror cabinet and you a) don't want to kill it, and b) are too scared to touch it, so now you can either keep giving it one side eye after another, or ask your neighbour for help.

✨ Hunter x Hunter:

Permanence - A simple evening at an art gallery turns into a daring decision to slip away from Chrollo's grasp. Fragile Things - Sometimes Chrollo really wishes you were more demanding of him. A Spoonful of Sugar (Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader) - Sweet? Cute? What you really are is deadly. Fractalize (part 1, part 2, Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader) - Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness. The Devil Is a Gentleman (Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader) - You wake up in the middle of the night with a headache. Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader Imagine - You died and became a ghost. Now you can’t leave Chrollo, but at least there’s satisfaction in taunting him.

🍄 Resident Evil Village:

🎨 Original works:

Cultivating Flowers - Marquis is a man of many interests, including gardening. Specifically, his new roses.

👤 Monster:

🏥 Outlast:

🩸 BTD/TPOF:

To Make a Home Out of Bones (Ren x Reader) - You were free. Free for real, and you couldn't believe that, staring at the open door. And then, by some twisted scenario, decided to keep him. It's tragic, really.

🎭 John Doe Game:

🧛‍♂️ Dracula:

🍽️ Hannibal:

[dollita-fawn]

I can't write well but just an idea that I find hot. Totally didn't imagen that.

After the end of RE5. He survived barely. Injured pretty badly but recovering.

Reader taking such good care of him. Since he can't properly do it himself.

Maybe reader could help him relax ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

~horny for Wesker anon

In a Time of Need

a/n- im in love with this idea oml ty anon.

pairings- Albert Wesker x Gn! reader

NSFW WARNING:

contains- oral sex (m!receiving), handjob, edging, Wesker refers to himself as ‘master’ once, riding Wesker while he’s immobile (consensually), praise/degrading, and use of pet names as always 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In his weaker state, Wesker is now a shadow of his former self. He's a broken man who has lost everything. He relies on you to take care of him, to feed him, and to keep him comfortable. You're the one who keeps him alive and protects him. You're the one who has the power to make his life better or worse. You have him entirely in your hands.

It used to be the other way around.

He's been reduced to a mere specimen and can't even protest that. He's completely silent, with the only sound being the heavy pumping of his heart. There's a feeling of hopelessness and self-pity surrounding him.

He won’t admit it, but he’s grateful for your presence. Despite how rough he treated you before, and how often he belittled you. You stuck by his side. Even more so when he was as pathetic like this You never seemed to think any less of him.

No matter the failure or wrongdoings, you held Wesker in high regard. You looked up to him as a superior being.

Even now, as you have to be the one to nurse him. Constantly tending to his slow healing wounds and practically spoon feeding him.

Wesker was never one to accept weakness and having to rely on someone else for basic things like eating and sleeping is infuriating for him. He doesn't understand how this has happened and doesn't want to admit that he is weak and vulnerable. He still has his pride and isn't ready to accept the fact that he needs someone to take care of him. He struggles against it every chance he gets, but deep down he understands he has no other options but to comply.

Daily, you have to tend to his bandages and open cuts to prevent further problems like infection.

Cleaning Wesker's wounds is no easy task. They are deep and painful and he doesn't like you touching or inspecting them. He's in so much pain, it's hard for him to even breathe. He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, but not enough to hide the pain he's in. He curses softly each time you touch him, his wounds raw and red, but slowly healing under the care and attention of your hands.

“Sorry…” You offer a timid apology as you carefully change the gauze, a slight tremble in your hands betraying your concern that you may inadvertently cause discomfort to him.

"It didn't hurt that much." Wesker peers down at you with a mixture of frustration and sadness in his eyes. "Just finish up quickly."

You finish cleaning the wound and apply a fresh bandage to it. Wesker stays silent and stoic as you work, but you know he's in pain and only tolerating this. He's still glaring at you and even if you're doing your best to avoid hurting him, your final touches are making him flinch a little.

"Are you finished?" he grumbles under his breath. You can tell he's trying not to make a fuss, but he clearly wants to be done with this.

You give a reassuring nod in response as you tape up the loose ends. “Are you hungry still?” you ask cautiously. “Need anything before bed?”

"No." he says firmly, not willing to show any neediness or rely on you for anything else.

Part of him did want to be alone, but being around you made him feel slightly better.

Maybe because of your constant need to dote on him. He may have changed but you didn’t. In a sense, you were still basically his lap dog. It fed into that unquenchable thirst for control that he had. You did everything in your power to please him without a second thought.

You could see clear as day how much he was suffering. More than just external wounds inflicted pain.

The poor man was cooped up in bed, unable to accomplish any of the ideals he had thoroughly planned and tried for. Of course you could tell he was stressed. Anyone would be. For Wesker, that stress was eating him alive. He could hardly face you, utterly embarrassed at the state he was forced into. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. He wasn’t supposed to sink so low.

But, you knew exactly what was needed to boost him back up, at least somewhat close to his norm.

As you finish cleaning up, you decide to let your hand roam. Avoiding the injured areas of skin, you delicately slide your hand between his leg. Your soft palm trails the inside of his thighs and his tired eyes flicker to you in surprise. “I don’t want another useless massage.” he cuts in.

“I was thinking of doing a little bit more than that for you today.” you counter in a question like statement. “I think certain areas may be feeling neglected lately.”

Wesker picks up on the innuendo, his mood shifting immediately as you state your suggestion.

“Oh?” his thin lips start to curve into that all knowing grin. “Well then, be my guest.”

He certainly wasn’t going to deny you. The man hadn’t been touched for way longer than he anticipated. He was far too busy for things like this.

He almost forgot how good it could feel.

As your hand glides over his hardening length through the tight fabric of his pants, he jerks on impulse, letting out a throaty groan. He was way more sensitive than you anticipated, but you weren’t complaining.

You slowly stroke him through the material and its enough to send him into shock. The heat pools between his legs at the contact of your hands, the discomfort of his injuries fade into nothing.

To your convenience, he lifts as best he can, letting you strip him of his coverings. His cock stands tall and proud, the vein leading from tip to base steadily twitching.

He watches your every move as you spit into the center of your hand.

His eyes snap shut as you then use it to pump your hand, caressing the whole length, soft and breathy moans pour from his lips at his sensitivity.

“Fuck…just like that. Don’t you dare stop.” he barks out an order, yet he can’t sound as stern with you as usual. Not when you ball your palm over the tip, twisting and squeezing your way around.

He can hardly sit still, as much as he tries.

When your mouth comes into play, kissing softly down his happy trail. Your lip’s envelop him into your warm welcoming hole, his hand entangles in your hair.

The way you flick your tongue as you go is enough to kill him.

His whole body tenses. You take him all the way into your throat without cause for concern, slobbering all sloppy all over the base of his cock as you hold it there.

Wesker feels himself about to cum already. But so do you. So you part ways as fast as you can as you feel that pulsing, leaving him unfinished.

Or so he thought that’s what you were doing until you began to pull your own pants down.

His hands remove themselves from your locks, resting at his side as he waits for whatever it is you were planning. His eyes, half slit, watch your every step, looking you up and down as you strip for him. He tried his best to be patient, but he needed that release. More than anything.

“Come here,” he commands firmly, the frustration evident in his tone. “Now.” You would never deny him, not that you planned on it.

You straddle him, careful not to do any harm.

Sitting now on his lap, you position his hardness between the plush of your thighs. Your hands start to stroke him again, but the rough grip of your wrist forces you to a halt. “Ride.” he orders, leaving no room for leniency. He wanted it. Now.

The look in his eyes was almost pleading, but he’d never been the type to beg. He would have his way no matter the cost.

You position so your thighs rest on either side of his. He was wet enough from the saliva of your mouth, slipping into your tight hole with ease. He grits his teeth, grunting slightly as you slowly sink down on him.

The head of his cock reaches your untouched depths, making you squeeze tighter against him. “Such a good little toy for me,” he groans, hands gripping your hips. “Please your master. Don’t make me tell you again. Ride.”

You press your hands to his midriff to steady your balance. Slowly you slide back up, almost pulling him out. You were sucking him in too tightly to let go, even if you tried.

Either way, Wesker forces you back down with what little strength he had. “Faster.” he shouts, and you don’t hesitate.

You bounce on his cock, walls suffocatingly massaging his length inside. His head lulls back as things pick up pace, hands tightening their hold on you.

His hips move along with yours, the best they can. He was desperately chasing his high. After you stopped him mid release prior, he was feeling extra needy. He refused to allow that to happen more than once.

He slams into you at an ungodly pace, you can hardly keep your eyes open. He splits you open on his cock with no regard for your pleasure, only focused on his own.

You were the one who offered to be used, after all.

“You’re going to take every drop of my precious seed. Do you understand?” he growls almost incoherent, lost in the pleasure.

You plead yes, that you understand.

“Say it aloud. Tell me what you are to me.”

You try to gather your thoughts. He didn’t cease his assault, shaking you with every rough thrust. “Y-your cum slut..” you mewl out, hoping your decided answer was satisfactory enough.

“hnng- yes,” he moans out deeply. “My good little slut. I’m going to fill you up and you’re just going to let me.”

He bullies into you rapidly, forcing out your cries as he milks himself in your insides.

He doesn’t slow as he cums in spurts, coating your walls with his white fluids. He continues to stuff it deeper into you as he goes, draining everything he has into you.

It pools out on top of him, leaking messily onto the bed.

Wesker relaxes his hold, no longer feeling so tense and worked up. He collapses back onto the bed, a sweaty panting mess, leaving you to sit and warm his cock.

“You’re going to give yourself to me everytime i request, from now on.”

Much to your surprise, Wesker pulls you down against him, chest to chest. He was never once affectionate towards you before. But now here he is, face burrowed in the crook of your neck.

His hands comfortingly play with your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp.

You melt into him, completely basking in the aftermath and enjoying his rare, gentle touch.

“You’re sleeping here tonight,” he states matter of factly. “You did quite well for me. I think you’re deserving of some extra attention.”

[alvivaarts]

They are THE besties ever! (And just as importantly, their proper Battlesuit designs!) closeups below!

This arc of Simulation Swarm has been living rent free, especially when I’ve been taking more breaks to do tradart in my free time. Side note- I remembered Excella exists! And Wesker is already supremely fucked. So uh… yeah it’s gonna be even more fucked up. Ahah. I even made a four way chart of Jill, Leon, Wesker and Excella and how that whole debacle is gonna work out. It’s also going to span approximately 20+ chapters!

they’re extremely messed up mentally, physically, emotionally-. It’s fine though. They’ll be fine 🥴

Closeups!

[ghostkennedy]

Every Version of You (4)

A reverse harem with three variants of Leon Kennedy and feminine reader.

~ Masterlist ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

(i struggled a lot with this part and putting it off because it's filler. it's the event that needed to happen to get from point a to point b. but i've done it so now updates should come quicker!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

SONGS: I Can't Handle Change - Roar and I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR PART FOUR: dejecting from one's self, anxiety, crying, some comfort, thoughts of giving up, arguing, let me know if there's something else that needs to be tagged

TAGLIST: @growingupnrealizing , @weneewinnie , @delulusimps , @yoonbabe-d , @missjoenowhere , @cassiecasluciluce , @greywardensaywhat , @kennedyswhore , @british-mint-bunny , @all-mights-babygirl , @weasleytwinscumslut , @pinkrose1422 , @ir3nic-sluvv , @blue4pple , @izuoyarmin , @cosmcqt

!!!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!!!

PART "CHAPTER" FOUR

You stand, frozen in place, right in front of the giant tube that’s supposed to contain Leon. Every noise in the room sounds far away. You’re not even sure you’re really standing here right now with how unreal you feel. How disconnected you feel from yourself.

Numb. You feel numb.

Is any of this real? How can it be real? You know it’s stupid to question yourself like this. You always laughed off people who would ask dumb questions like, “Is this a dream?” Of course it’s not a dream! But now you’re questioning if this is a fucking dream. You don’t know, maybe you never knew.

You can tell the men are trying to talk to you, but you can’t seem to force yourself out of your own head. Can’t make yourself care enough to socialize with any of them. You wanna stay inside your mind’s fuzziness. It wraps you like a blanket and it’s the only solace you can seem to find.

You’ve been able to push your feelings down–to just push yourself through the motions, but it seems to be hitting you all at once now. And you’re not sure why, but you’re dreading facing Leon. And there’s no specific reason for your anxiety, maybe it’s just everything coming to the surface in the face of a conversation you don’t know how to have.

Maybe you’re dreading his reaction. 

“Hey!” you hear someone yell to get your attention as they nudge your shoulder, which finally snaps you out of your almost hypnotic state. 

Your head snaps in their direction, “Hmm? What?”

Your eyes meet older Leon’s. “Are you ready?” It’s a stupid fucking question. You and him both know it, but for some reason, you still find yourself having a hard time responding. You open your mouth several times to reply, but no sound manages to make it past your lips.

“Are you okay?” he lowers his voice to nearly a whisper.

You’re not sure why that does something to your brain–why you’re biting your lip as tears slip down your cheeks again. Why did the dam break right now? Before you can even force the tears back down, force yourself to keep it together, he’s wrapping his arms around you.

You’re limp in his grasp. Wide eyed and arms hanging at your sides. You’re stiff in his arms, unable to properly react. His chin is resting on top of your head as he presses your cheek into his chest.

You wish he’d just stop. Pull himself away from you. Read your body language and take the hint. But he doesn’t. He only clings to you tighter.

And you don’t know why, fuck, you don’t know why anything anymore, but you soften in his arms. You allow yourself to accept his embrace. And for some reason, it makes you feel somewhat calmer. As if you can finally breathe in his arms.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah? Just breathe. You’re fine, everything is fine. I’ve got you.”

And you believe him completely. You pull your head away from his chest and look back into his eyes. 

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, holding it, then opening your eyes as you release it.

“That’s it. Feeling better?” He tucks your hair behind your ear and you can’t speak. You force yourself to nod. Just nodding feels like it takes all of your energy. 

You’re exhausted, utterly and undoubtedly exhausted. You could pass out while standing up if you allowed yourself to. But you know you can’t. You know you must swallow down all of the negative feelings because there’s much more pressing matters at hand. You are not what’s important right now. 

“I’m okay,” you assure Leon softly. “Let’s do this.”

“You’re sure?” He cocks an eyebrow in obvious disbelief. 

You nod your head weakly. “Like ripping a band-aid off, right?” He rubs your shoulders, but doesn’t attempt to move on. “I’m sure, Leon, please.”

He finally releases you, but not before offering up his hand. It confuses you at first, but you eventually relent and intertwine your fingers with his. You’ll take any link to ground you that you can. You’re still not fully convinced that you won’t just fade into nothingness, maybe you’d even welcome it and allow it to consume you. 

It’d be so easy to let yourself go as well, but you’re not hanging on for yourself. You’re hanging on for Leon and maybe that’s enough for you. Well, it has to be enough for you, it’s all you have to cling to.

“Okay, here we go,” Luis mumbles as he pulls the lever and the blinding light is back and somehow stronger this time. 

Before you can even reach up to cover your own eyes, someone else’s hand is covering them. Your free hand shoots up to cover the hand over your eyes. It’s obvious who it is, so you run your hand up his arm and cover his eyes with your hand. It’s not the most comfortable position, but you’re fucking greatful for it.

The light is gone and you both drop your hands, looking ahead as Leon’s drenched body is pulled from the liquid by Chris. Chris pulls Leon’s body down the ladder with the help of Luis and they lay him on the ground.

“Leon? Leon, can you hear me?” Chris speaks as Leon’s eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly wakes up. 

Leon’s eyes finally stay open and he stares up at Chris with a blank expression on his face. He slowly blinks as confusion creeps up his face.

He suddenly sits up and pushes himself to his feet, stumbling backwards away from Chris and Luis. His wet clothes cling to his body, throwing off his balance as he braces himself against the wall. 

“Leon. Calm down,” Luis tries to level with him.

He shakes his head, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Just here to help-”

“Help with what, asshole?”

Older Leon speaks up, “Well, if you’d let him explain and stop interrupting-”

“And who the fuck are you?” Leon spits out as his eyes dart to older Leon’s. He looks down at your laced fingers and then his eyes meet yours. “What’s going on?”

You pull your hand from older Leon’s and take a few steps toward Leon, “I’m not entirely sure, but everything’s okay, okay?”

“Don’t,” he puts his hand out in front of him causing you to halt your movements. “Just… stay over there.” 

You feel your face fall at the tone of his voice, talking as if he’s disgusted by you. It causes you to step backwards, your back colliding with older Leon’s chest. 

“It’s okay,” he quietly speaks into your ear, “He’s just confused right now.” You nod your head in response, because what else can you do?

Leon continues arguing with Chris and Luis, but you tone it out. You turn and look up at older Leon’s face. He brings his hand down to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently beneath your eye. Your eyelids instinctively close in the comfort of his gesture.

“And what the fuck is going on over there?” Leon’s raised voice brings your attention back to him. “Who the fuck is that?”

Your eyes dart between the two of them, not sure if you should tell Leon the truth. Older Leon meets your gaze and nods his head once, encouraging you to speak.

You take a deep breath before speaking, “He’s you, Leon. From the future.” 

The room is quiet as you and Leon stare at each other. His face is skeptical as he looks between you and the older man.

“You’re joking?” He huffs out and you shake your head at him. Another moment of silence passes. “What do you mean by that?”

“He’s here to save me, Leon.”

He scowls. “Why are you fucking with me right now? What’s wrong with you?”

Older Leon steps in front of you. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Fuck you dude-”

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“I’m not taking this-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Older Leon yells and the room falls into a silence once again. It’s awkward. It’s fucking uncomfortable. You could cut the tension with a knife. Just any sort of cheesy phrase that could be used to describe this shit, insert that here. 

Everything feels so unnatural. How could a conversation ever flow under these conditions? In these circumstances? How are you supposed to act, supposed to talk?

“Do you want her to die?” Older Leon gestures toward you. Leon scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t answer. “Well. Do you?”

“Obviously not.”

“She will. And there won’t be anything we can do to stop it if you don’t get it together.”

“You gonna kill her?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing! You’re talking out your ass right now. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Really?” Older Leon asks in a monotone voice that has chills running down your spine. Leon nods in response, causing older Leon to suddenly snap.

He closes the gap between the two of them, grabbing Leon by his collar and pushing him towards the giant vat of liquid again.

Chris follows after them. “Leon, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to show him.”

“We don’t even know if that’ll work.”

“Don’t care.”

“Just think for a minute.”

“No.” The men fight the entire way to the top of the vat of liquid, but older Leon manages to get the younger man up there.

“Fuck,” Luis calls out as he runs to the control panel slamming down some buttons. “Okay. Okay! Be careful Leon-” He isn’t able to finish his warning before older Leon is pulling both of the men into the liquid.

“Oh my god!” You gasp out as you watch the Leon’s floating in the water, electrical currents surrounding them, looking like they’re shooting straight into them. Older Leon grips Leon by his shoulders, both their heads falling back weightlessly as they go still in the liquid. 

Water swirls all around them and you can do nothing but watch. It’s like they’re the calm in the storm, so still as a whirlpool rages on around them. 

As quickly as they entered their comatose states, they’re snapping out of it. Breaking through the top of the liquid and gasping for air. 

Older Leon pulls himself up on the platform first, offering Leon a hand that he ignores as he pulls himself out of the liquid as well. They sit on the platform in complete silence, both staring off into space.

A ringing cuts through the silence and Luis picks up a small phone sitting on the control panel. 

“Leon,” both men's attention dart to Luis, but he gestures the phone towards the younger of the two. “It’s yours.”

Leon hurries down the ladder and grabs the phone, answering quickly. “Hello?... Now?... Can it wait?...Alright, fine… Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone and turns to face you. “I have to go. Urgent request by the president.”

“Be safe?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He nods his head, scanning the room before heading for the door.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Rookie, who’s been standing off to the side, staying out of the way this whole time. But he quickly shakes his head and continues, slamming the door shut behind him.

You look over at Rookie and he shrugs at you. “I didn’t think seeing me would help.”

You didn’t think of it that way. Of course Leon would instantly recognize his younger self, it’s what he used to look at in the mirror every day.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You ask no one in particular. Your eyes scan the room, waiting for someone, anyone, to answer you. 

“He’ll get there,” Chris finally speaks up. “But we got work to do. We knew he’d be pulled away for that mission, so we knew he wouldn’t be around.” Chris’ hand meets your shoulder and he squeezes in an attempt to comfort you. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start Operation Save Your Life? Or whatever you’d like to call it.”

Chris heads out the same door Leon did and your gaze falls to the floor. You doubt you’ll be able to sleep after everything that just happened, but you’d be lying if sleep wasn’t calling out to you.

[blossom-works]

The Apple of His Eye

A peek into the life of the Kennedy household with a gentle cocker spaniel, a nurturing mother, a protective father, and their oh-so-adorable little human.

Original prompt

A/N: OC is the same OC from His Sunshine

---

Leon's eyelids start to flutter at a familiar sound. His tired mind slowly lulls itself back to sleep. A few seconds later, his ears pick up at the same sound. Leon tries to go back to sleep but a loud babble forces his brain to kick his body into high gear. The babbling gets louder and louder.

'Doesn't sound like she's crying.' Leon compromises. If she really needs him or her mother, she will start crying. Finding a rational excuse, Leon sinks himself further into the mattress. Just a few more seconds and Leon will be back in dreamland.

.

.

.

Wrong.

The baby monitor transmits a loud screech, compelling Leon to open his eyes and kick his legs over the edge of the bed. Hhm, that is weird. The other side of the bed is empty. Where are you? The squawking does not give Leon enough time to think.

"Okay. Okay. I'm on my way, bunny." Leon grumbles while shutting the monitor off. The distance from the master bedroom to the nursery is only a couple of feet away. In fact, both rooms are located at the opposite sides of the staircase. The master bedroom is at the left, down a mini-way. The nursery is the door directly to the right of the staircase. Per routine, Leon looks down at the door to see Shiloh tapping her paws against the wooden floor, awaiting her chance to say "good morning" to her little human.

Pushing the door open, Leon gives the medium-sized dog to enter the decorated room. When the DSO agent first encountered BOWs, he never thought that he would get married and have a kid. It was something pre-Raccoon City Leon thought about, but that wishful thinking quickly left the man after the events of '98. It was not until after your one-year wedding anniversary did Leon really started thinking about having kids. He discussed his desire with you which led to some serious baby-making.

Leon never had any experience with babies before Eri was born. He never changed a diaper and he never held a baby. Kids, Leon was comfortable around. They know how to use the bathroom on their own, and they mostly run around all day. The cherry on it all was that Leon would be raising his baby from day one. As soon as that baby popped out of you, Leon would be a father.

Your pregnancy with Eri was relatively easy. You did not experience morning sickness or many aversions to food or cravings. You did get emotional here and there, giving Leon some serious whiplash. Most of the time you were just tired. Leon forbade you from doing field work when you told him you were pregnant. He was even able to convince the president to give Leon domestic cases so he could be closer to you.

After Eri was born, Leon's view of the world permanently changed. As much as Leon hates his job, the moment he held Eri, Leon knew he would be a DSO agent until his late fifties. Maybe early sixties. Why? Leon needs to do everything he can to make sure his little girl can live in a world without the worry of bioterrorism. When you took Eri home, Leon used his connections to up his home's security system.

Changing diapers. Bathing. Changing clothes. Cleaning spit up. Diaper explosions. Late-night feedings and changings. You name it, Leon did it. It was definitely a learning process for him, but you were able to show Leon the ropes. Thank goodness that you had experience with babies. You spent your teenage years babysitting your little cousins, and your older brother and sister have kids of their own. Lord knows the chaos that would have erupted if the both of you were clueless about babies and raising them.

Leon loves fatherhood. His own childhood (at least the parts he remembers) was not a happy one. His parents got into some sketchy stuff with equally sketchy people. Their family was always on the run. Then, Leon was orphaned. Eri is Leon's chance to make up for his childhood. He would be the father he never had. You would be the mother Leon wished he had growing up. The two of you would give Eri the childhood Leon never had.

Shiloh claws at the crib, whining through the wooden bars.

"Calm down, girl. I'll get her in a sec."

The baby stops her crying when she sees her father. Cheeks are free from tears. Leon lightly pinches her chubby cheek. "You little faker." He coos. On most mornings, Eri would whine and fake cry to get her parents' attention. She would always greet them with a mischievous smile that said, "Ha ha, I tricked you. Now pick me up!"

"Morning, bunny." Leon picks his daughter up by her armpits and holds her against his chest. Morning cuddles with his baby girl are one of Leon's favorite ways to start his day. The others are cuddling with his wife and umm...cuddling with his wife. Eri nuzzles against Leon's t-shirt, further messing up her brown hair. Other than her eyes and hair, Eri looks just like you.

After their morning routine, Leon lays Eri down on the changing table. His daughter looks around at the wall beside her and her curious hands try to grab at the garland of stars. With his quick reflexes, Leon stops her.

"Nu-uh. Your mom would yell at me if you pulled that down."

You spent days planning Eri's nursery. A couple of those days were just trying to figure out the theme of it. Leon told you that he did not care, which ended up biting him in the ass. You wanted his opinion, but you forgot that the man is not well-versed in home decor. Eventually, you narrowed your options down to a night sky/starry night theme. Leon never heard about this website called "Etsy" until then. So. Much. Shit. You bought off that place.

You even had your baby shower themed the same to keep things simple. Since most of your family lives in Georgia or the Carolinas, you had the baby shower in Atlanta. The Redfields, Jill, and some of your FBI friends came down to celebrate too. In this entire room, Leon's favorite object is the framed footprints on the wall. You asked your nurse to print Eri's feet on cardstock so you could hang up. Every month since Eri's birth, you and Leon make it a goal to stamp Eri's feet. A cute memorabilia for the two of you.

Clean bum, check. Now Leon needs to feed his baby. Putting her down on the living room carpet, Leon rummages through the fridge. On the second shelf, he sees two plastic-wrapped plates. The bigger plate, his plate has a note on it. It says, "Good morning, handsome. I left for a quick trip to the grocery store. I made you and Eri some breakfast to keep your morning easy. All you need to do is cut up an apple for her. I already fed Shiloh, so don't worry about her. - Sunshine <3"

God, you are amazing. Leon heats up Eri's plate first. Like Leon, she tends to get hangry. After heating the small plate up, Leon sets it aside to let it cool and he takes an apple from the fridge and cuts it into bite-sized pieces (while also getting his "dad tax" in).

'Wait a minute...It's too quiet.'

Putting the pairing knife down, Leon wipes his hands with the kitchen towel and looks for his daughter.

"Eri? Where are you, apple?" Leon peeps from over the couch and his daughter is nowhere to be seen. He calls out to her again. Great. Another game of hide-n-seek. Eri's favorite game to play. If you leave the little girl alone for long enough, Eri will wander off and hide. He blames you for introducing the game to her. You would hide around the house with Eri, waiting for Leon to find you. It was cute until Eri decided to spontaneously play the game by herself when she learned how to crawl. You and Leon had a full-on panic attack when you could not find your daughter.

Both of you have dangerous jobs. Resulting in making dangerous enemies. When you and Leon moved out of your shared apartment to live in a house in the suburbs, the main concern was security. Files on DSO agents and their families are strictly confidential. Even the people who work at the Pentagon have to have a certain level of clearance to access that information. Even Eri's birth certificate is confidential. The only information that is not blocked out is her name, date of birth, and sex.

But, there is always that small chance that someone can find out about your family. When that does happen, Leon wants to be prepared for it. Your home is on a large piece of land in Arlington, Virginia. It is close enough to the city for help to arrive in a reasonable time frame, but far enough to enjoy some well-deserved privacy. With Hunnigan's help, Leon was able to equip his property with a high-tech security system. Cameras, motion detectors, audio recordings, and more. Leon even chalked up some hidden compartments around the house to hold firearms of different kinds.

After twenty minutes of looking, you found Eri asleep under the dining room table. The chairs blocked her from your view. That day, you and Leon did not take your eyes off of her. One of you was always with her to make sure she did not crawl herself into trouble.

"There you are, you bad girl." Leon bends down to drag Eri out of the walk-in pantry. Oh, and Shiloh often hides with Eri. The two of them are partners in crime. "Let's get you something to eat alright? And not give your old dad a heart attack."

By the time Leon finished doing the dishes, you came walking in from the garage door with two arms full of groceries.

"Hey, handsome." You greet while tossing the plastic bags onto the kitchen counter. Leon greets you back with a kiss before helping you put the groceries away. Seeing her mother, Eri squeals in delight. She leans over the tray and makes grabby hands at you.

"Awee! Did my baby miss me?" You pick Eri out of her highchair and smother her with your love. Leon could live in this moment forever. If he had one wish, this would be it. Just him, his daughter, his wife, and his dog at home. No spontaneous calls from work. No investigations. Secretly, Leon takes out his personal phone and snaps a photo of you cuddling with your daughter.

The afternoon comes and it is almost time for Eri's nap. She usually naps for about two hours before being put to bed around eight-thirty. Today has been an easy one, and Leon hopes it stays that way. When the two of you are home, Leon puts Eri to sleep while you make lunch for the two of you. Eri always has an early lunch before she naps and a snack after she wakes up. The two of you found that to be easy considering Eri's tendency to get cranky when hungry. Like father, like daughter.

Leon walks into the kitchen to see you watching something on your phone. A pan is on the stove, sizzling.

"Watcha' watchin'?"

"A video popped up on my YouTube feed. It's about three things this guy learned from raising daughters." You hand the phone to Leon since the lessons are being told from a father's perspective.

When you plate your respective meals, Leon is sitting on the back patio. You find this unusual because he always tells you where he is going (with the exception of some missions). Even if it is somewhere around or in the house. You slide the patio door open.

"Leon? What's wrong, babe?"

He shakes his head. "It's nothing." Leon opens his arms to invite you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle into Leon's shoulder.

"Did you get another mission?" Your guess is a valid one. Leon almost always gets like this, quiet, when he gets a call from his higher-ups. Your husband hates to leave you and he hates it more when he has to leave his darling apple, but Leon shakes his head "no".

"Is something bothering you then?" Again, Leon shakes his head "No".

Alright, then you will wait for Leon to tell you what is bothering him. Until then, you pull Leon up and bring him to the kitchen. There is no way that you are going to forsake your hard work. His appetite has gone down a little, but Leon knows that if he does not eat, he will not get a chance to without paying the "Eri tax".

Later that night, after Eri is snoozing in her crib, Leon tells you what is bothering him. The last thing the man in the video said hit Leon straight in his heart. The last lesson for dads is to teach their daughters how to shoot. It is Leon's job as a father to be his family's main provider and protector, but there will come a time when Leon will not be there to protect and provide for his family.

As much as Leon tries to rid of the dangers of the world, darkness will always lurk. It will be his job as Eri's father to teach her how to defend herself. To protect herself from the monsters that try to stop her from reaching her full potential in the world. Cause'...someday daddy will not be there to do it for her. Sometime in the night when the baby monitor picks up on Eri's cries, Leon volunteers himself to care for her.

Half-asleep, you hear Leon talking to your daughter. Repeating the same promise he made when she was born. To protect her for as long as he can. Then you hear Leon say, "Did you just pee on my hand?"

In the morning, your family of four go to a nearby park to take a walk. Eri is in her stroller, you pushing the stroller, and Leon is walking Shiloh. This writer has been focusing on the nurturing mother, protective father, and their adorable daughter, but what about the gentle doggo?

Shiloh has always loved people. Cocker spaniels are known to be wonderful family pets and very tolerant of small children. The first day you brought Eri home, Shiloh would not leave her alone. While you were pregnant, the dog would find every opportunity to nuzzle against your stomach. When Eri still slept in the room with you and Leon, Shiloh would sleep at the foot of the bed or next to the bassinet.

Their relationship would only grow as Eri gets bigger. You have a video of Shiloh giving one of her toys to a one-month-old Eri, wanting the baby to play a game of fetch with her. When Eri started eating solid foods, she would purposefully throw a small handful on the ground. Always nearby, Shiloh would lap up whatever Eri was eating. There was one time when you were out of the house, Leon was giving Eri a bath and then Shiloh hopped into the tub.

You used to be Shiloh's best friend, but you gladly gave that position to Eri. They make a cuter pair anyway.

With a household full of girls, Leon is always smothered with love. Before, you and Shiloh would always fight for his attention, and now he has three girls fighting for it. You like to mess with Eri when she gets cuddly with Leon. You would pick Eri up and put her a few feet away from Leon, before running back to him and taking her place. Purposefully, you dramatically nuzzle against Leon and kiss his cheek with a loud "Mwah!"

She only started crawling about a month ago, but Eri is a fast one. She would pop up at her father's feet and cry out to him, demanding that he pick her up. When he does pick her up and place Eri on his lap, she would try with all her might to push you off. If she could talk, Eri would say "My daddy!" Then Shiloh and Eri fight with each other to get Leon's attention. Safe to say that Leon loves the attention he gets from his girls.

Bath time is Eri's favorite. Right behind cuddling with mommy which is right behind cuddling with daddy, which is behind chasing the things that likes to play with her and lick her. Eri loves water. She loves slashing it everywhere. Leon introduced Eri to a water bath toy. It is a whale that lights up and spurts water out of its blow hole. Kind of a double-edged sword because Eri will not let either of you bathe her without that toy.

"That's enough, bunny." Leon begs as he scrunches up his face. Thanks to his baby girl, Leon's chest is all wet. He learned to rid of his shirt whenever he bathes Eri. It is easier to dry himself off without having to deal with a soaked shirt.

Eri dismisses her father's pleas and continues to punch the water. Her dark brown hair is clean and the water droplet on her nose enhances the button-like feature. Eri's eyes are a hazel brown, but if the light hits her irises just right, you can see a swirl of blue in them. You once joked that Eri's charming features would attract all the boys in her class, begging her to be their girlfriend. Leon did not find that funny. He protectively held Eri to his chest and said, "The sons of bitches better know how to shoot then."

Leon's last straw during bath time is when Eri shoves water over the edge of the tub, drowning the tile and soaking the edges of his gym shorts. Leon puts a diaper on Eri and takes the towel-clad baby to her room. Carefully, Leon tosses the clothed baby on your shared bed where you are typing away at your laptop.

"Watch the brat. I've gotta clean up her little mess."

You put your laptop on your bedside table and curl against your baby. You lift her shirt up and blow raspberries against her puggy stomach.

"Did you give your dad a hard time again?" Her little giggles say "yes".

You like to keep a few baby books in your room to keep Eri entertained. You sit up against the headboard and plop your daughter on your lap.

"Guess how much I love you."

Animated, you read the book in different voices and inflections. You use your hands to copy what the hares are doing in the book. At some point, Shiloh lays herself in the middle of the bed where your legs are. When you finish the book, you pull out another one.

"The giving tree."

Before you can read the first page, Leon takes it and climbs into his side of the bed. Minding the sleeping dog, he slides you over to him. Practically squishing Eri between you two.

"Once there was a tree and she loved a little boy..."

The Kennedy family has vital parts to it.

You are the sun that gave life and light to the apple seed, allowing it to sprout into a little tree. Shiloh is the birds and small animals that give the little apple tree companionship. And Leon. Leon is the protector. The one that wards off the pests that try to nip at the little apple tree. The one that fights off the wolves that try to eat the birds and small animals. The one that blows away the clouds that try to cover the sun's rays. Then there is the little apple tree itself. A precious gift of life that should be nurtured and protected.

"And the tree was happy."

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Note: Eri may or may not have been inspired by the Eri in My Hero Academia...Why? Cause she's so darn diggity cute, that's why!