“Nonono Ada— please I can’t—“ You whined, your body begging for a break.
“You can take one more, can’t you?” Ada’s voice was like sin in your ears. She pressed the buzzing device against your clit, staring in awe at the way your back arched as you cried out.
It was a reoccurring event now, everytime Ada would come home stressed from her job, she’d take it out on you, inflicting delicious pain on you until you’d tap out.
Today was no different, she’d arrived home to your shared space, not uttering a word. She pulled you against her, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she laid you down on the bed.
Her hands had trailed down, pushed your nightdress up, leaving it bunched up around your waist. She had reached for the nightstand, pulled out the toy from the first drawer and flicking it on, and right away pressed it against your clothed clit.
Ada gently worked two fingers in and out your pussy, keeping the vibrator hovering over your clit, just barely grazing it. She’d already made you cum twice and desperately wanted to see you do it again.
“mmpfh— Ada-nnggh! pluh-please~! Ican’doit-hah,” you babbled, burying your face in the smooth skin of her neck. You inhaled her scent, a heady mix of her perfume and something uniquely her. Ada could feel her own cunt throbbing, aching to grind herself against you.
“My girl’s all fucked out, hm? Maybe she’s too tired for it?” Ada thought outloud, gauging your reaction. Your ears immediately perked up, almost like a cat. It? She couldn’t mean… could she?
“Ada! Pleasepleasepleasplesse fuck me, I need it!” you practically threw yourself at her, wrapping your arms loosely around her shoulders. Ada let out an amused sigh, reaching behind you to open the bedside drawer once more.
The silicone strap hung from her fingers in front of your face, dangling in front of you like a treat.
“You can beg better than that, can’t you my sweet girl?”
ADA x Reader - Would You Still Love Me If I Was a Worm?
Author's Note: I wrote this months ago for fun and just found it again recently. There isn't much context other than that it's implied that Y/N has worked at the Armed Detective Agency longer than Atsushi but a shorter time than everyone else. I use honorifics but I wouldn't look too deeply into them. Might upload a second one with the other members of the ADA at a later date...
Tone: Comedic, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life (?)
The bustling streets of Yokohama were still something that you were struggling to get used to. This was, in part, due to the fact that you really only got the opportunity to explore them between a variety of different work tasks - murder investigations, conspiracy plots, being framed for terrorism...
Working for the Armed Detective Agency wasn't for the mundane. Sometimes you wondered if you'd be happier stuck waiting tables or in a shitty internship like others your age. You'd certainly rather be doing a coffee run than one of Ranpo's dessert runs. At least then you could justify buying yourself something as well.
You glance ahead to your coworker who was trailing slightly ahead of you. You don't know what causes you to speak - maybe boredom, maybe genuine curiousity - either way though, the following words leave your lips...
"Hey. Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
Atsushi stared at you for a second as if he didn’t quite comprehend the words that were just spoken to him. He let out a small laugh though it sounded far more uncertain than amused.
“Uh…sorry, Y/N-san, I don’t think I heard the question right! Could you repeat it?”
He seemed genuinely apologetic for the "inconvenience". It almost made you feel a bit bad for the teasing that was about to ensue.
Almost.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
You repeated the words carefully, making sure to purposefully enunciate each syllable despite your otherwise conversational tone. Once again Atsushi just stared at you. Just as you were about to repeat the question for a third time – was his hearing really that bad? – the meaning of the statement seemed to dawn on him. While the baffled expression on Atsushi’s face remained (sometimes you wondered if it was just how his face rested), a deep flush immediately overtook the rest of his features. His heterochromic eyes darted anxiously to the side.
“W-would I…would I what if you were a what?!” The words practically jumped out of Atsushi’s mouth, high and frantic. “Uh, Y/N-san, that’s a bit of a…I don’t know if…love?!”
Ah. Of course that’s the part that Atsushi’s brain would latch onto. You probably should’ve seen that coming. Oh well.
“Yeah. Would you?”
Atsushi’s face somehow manages to turn an even deeper shade of red. Honestly, you’re a bit impressed.
“I-I don’t…I mean, erm…yes? I’d still…w-we’d always be friends no matter what form you were in! Even if it was a worm!”
Feeling pleased by the strength in his response (and a bit bad about all the pure stress the simple question seemed to cause him), you push down the pang of disappointment you feel towards the word “friend” and instead give a quick grin. You lean over to pat Atsushi’s shoulder.
“Alrighty, then!” You clap your hands together, “Shall we go pick up Ranpo-san’s order then?”
It was clear by the wide-eyed look of horror on Atsushi’s face that he’d forgotten the whole reason you two had left the office in the first place. He gives a rapid nod and almost immediately quickens his pace. You trail along after him.
The conversation from that point shifts into the familiar back-and-forth that is had at the agency. You think your awkward attempt at joking around might go forgotten entirely…until you see Atushi mouthing LOVE every so often when he thinks you aren’t looking.
Kunikida, clearly having expected an inquiry of the utmost importance, immediately splutters upon hearing your actual question.
“What kind of…that’s what you stopped to ask me?! I already had to modify my daily schedule to account for grabbing Ranpo’s order and now you’re wasting the rest of my time on idiotic hypotheticals?!”
You blink. While Kunikida’s face was certainly turning a bit red, you figured it had less to do with feeling flustered by your question and more because he was attempting not to strangle you in broad daylight. You wondered, briefly, if this is why Dazai picked at him so often. It was admittedly quite fun.
“Aw! Kunikida-san, don’t be that way! It’s a very serious question! Stop being so dismissive…”
Kunikida’s eye twitched ever so slightly, “In what world is that an important question?!”
“This one! I mean, how else are we supposed to know the true strength of our bond? Aren’t you always going on about the Agency needing to operate more smoothly? A healthy working relationship is the first step towards that!”
The exasperated glare that Kunikida levels your way is nearly enough to make you apologize and move on. His hands were clenched so tightly that you assumed he was fantasizing about them being wrapped around your throat. His eyes dragged slowly between his watch and you as if though he was trying to “subtly” remind you of the cause of his ire. A smarter individual would take the silent warning (if only out of self-preservation) – alas, you were born with the inability of knowing where the line is.
“...so would you?”
“L/N,” The breath that escapes Kunikida’s lips is not one of relief, “Do you know how much Ranpo’s errand has thrown us off schedule?”
Your eyebrows shoot up. What a weird non-sequitar…
“Uh…like, five minutes? The bakery is only a bit of a walk away from where the crime scene was–”
“Seven minutes and twenty-two seconds.”
If you were going based on tone alone, one could only assume that Kunikida was in the middle of describing a disgustingly inhumane crime. Your own smile becomes a bit strained and you take a step backwards under the harshness of his gaze.
“That’s…inconvenient…?”
“Inconvenient…? Inconvenient? It’s an unmitigated disaster – that’s what this is! It will take us fourteen minutes to return back to the office from the bakery. Add in your…idiotic blabbering has wasted approximately one hundred and fifty more seconds. At this rate, we will make it back to the Agency at 3:01 PM.”
“...And that’s a problem because…?”
“The Agency departs for lunch at approximately thirteen hundred hours! If Ranpo-san is not there to collect his sweets, this entire excursion would have been a waste. Furthermore, I cannot file this investigation report if the President is not there to sign off on it. My entire schedule from this point forward is thrown off! If anything, I’d be more inclined to tolerate you if you were a spineless worm because at least then you’d have an excuse for the sheer stupidity you exude!”
“...I’m…sorry…?”
“The only thing you need to be is walking – move!”
Ugh. He’s absolutely no fun. You begrudgingly drag your feet after Kunikida as he swiftly walks down the streets of Yokohama.
“...ehhhh…? What kinda question is that?”
Ranpo drags out the words as he looks at you. Despite the casualness of his tone, his green eyes drill into you. You barely manage to resist the urge to curl up and hide away from the world entirely.
…not that anyone could SUCCESSFULLY avoid Ranpo Edogawa.
If you were any more naive – or perhaps just unused to how the Great Detective operates – you might’ve tried answering the question. The experience you’ve gotten from working at the Armed Detective Agency these past few months, however, has made you an expert in the art of recognizing rhetorical questions.
Your expertise does you well as Ranpo lets out a small huff of air.
“Why would I care about a worm?”
Ouch.
“It’s just a hypothetical from a stupid video I saw, Ranpo-san–”
“Stupid is right! Sigh…is this really the type of thing you like to think about? Man, I’d hate to be you! What a waste of time! Boooriiing.”
Double ouch.
“I, erm, apologize for wasting your time–”
Ranpo dismissively waves his hand, not even giving you time to get the apology out. No doubt because he’d find it boring as well. You internally sigh. Mentally preparing yourself for a very awkward walk to the bakery, you slowly continue to trail behind Ranpo. Just as you were getting used to the silence however…
“Obviously I wouldn’t love you if you were a worm,” Ranpo says in a haughty tone that you’ve come to recognize as his Explaining-Simple-Things-To-A-Bunch-Of-Idiots voice. You were kinda hoping to avoid it entirely though you should’ve known you could never be that lucky.
“...I’m aware, Ranpo-san. Once again, I apologize for–”
“If you were a worm, you wouldn’t be able to praise me anymore. You also wouldn’t be able to pick up my sweets or understand any of my great deductions! Not that you’re capable of really doing that now, anyways…”
The great detective seems eager to hit you where it hurts today. Ugh.
“Yes, Ranpo-san, I suppose that’s right…”
“So,” Ranpo barrelled on as though he hadn’t heard you speak at all (in fact, he didn’t even deign to look in your direction whatsoever), “Obviously, I wouldn’t still love you if you were a worm. You’re fine the way you are…I mean, you’re no me but you’re not a complete moron. If you keep thinking about stupid things like this, you might actually end up even more dumb. How annoying would that be?”
Undoubtedly, still less irritating than you, Ranpo-san.
“Hmmmm…”
Dazai blinks, his gaze languid despite his theatrical attempt at miming thought. A pale, slender finger reaches up to tap his chin in a repetitive motion that your eyes immediately dart to. You don’t know why you asked Dazai this question in the first place – his answer was certainly going to leave you some sort of regret no matter which direction he leaned towards. You’re just about to take back the hypothetical entirely when Dazai suddenly claps his bandaged hands together and smiles down at you.
“Let’s break this down, Y/N-kun!” Dazai’s voice was far too cheerful for your liking.
“We, uh, really don’t have to, Dazai-san–”
The words, you knew, were a futile effort. Dazai certainly seemed to agree as he waves you off with a flippant motion. Theatrical it is then…
“No, no! I insist. Let me see…a worm lacks all semblance of emotion and cognitive ability. It cannot show affection nor form any sort of bond with another. It spends the entirety of its very short life wriggling around in the dirt with no other apparent goal in sight…”
“I get it Dazai-san…”
Dazai ignores your words entirely. Instead a beaming, slightly blissful smile crosses his face.
“Ahhh…it sounds like the perfect life, doesn’t it, Y/N-kun? I can see why you’d want to be a worm. I’m now quite jealous of them myself! Life can be so unfair…if I were to flop around in the soil completely bare and covered in slime, Kunikida-kun would certainly try to kick me…ugh.”
Any other person. You could have asked ANY other person.
“That sounds…uh…frustrating, Dazai-san…”
Dazai nods rapidly in agreement. His face droops in an overt attempt at coming across as heart-wrenched.
“If you were to become a worm, I suppose I’d do my best to still love you…” You narrow your eyes slightly, not believing his words for a second, “But it’d be sooo hard not to kill myself out of jealousy! Really, Y/N-kun, you’re a terrible person for making me think of such horrifying things! How am I supposed to get any work done now?”
Of course. YOU’RE the terrible one…ugh. Maybe you should steal his idea and kill yourself to get out of having to hear his voice for even a few more seconds.
“Dazai-san,” You say (quite calmly, in your humble opinion, considering the amount of irritation that was coursing through you), “I am very sorry to have upset you like this. Let’s talk about something else…”
Dazai’s eyes glimmer in amusement. He lumbers forwards slightly so he can grin down at you.
“Well, if you insist. I thought we really had an interesting conversation going here. Alas, it seems Ranpo-san’s desserts come first! Let’s get going then!”
Somehow, despite all his ramblings, Dazai didn’t even answer the actual question. You wonder if that was intentional.
heyyy, i was wondering if you could do some wlw twt links, if you want to ofc!! And if you can, could you do them about ada wong, jill valentine and lara croft? thank you!
~ VIDEO GAME WOMEN
pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links please know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19
They have killed you for you. They will kill for you again. It doesn't matter if you wish it to them or not. You staying by their aside forever unharmed by this disgusting world is all that truly matters to them. Your hands staying blood free is their selfish desire.
They have killed for you aginst your wishes. They know that this will break your heart for some time, but it is was the answer to your safety. This act will stop the universe from forcing your hands to kill. The mental and emotional toll of causing death will be bared by them, never you.
written with the idea of fem!reader in mind, but there's nothing relating to gender except for mentions of perfume and a necklace, which anyone could use.
super into the idea of older!Ada Wong right now.
older!Ada who absolutely spoils you and expects to be pampered and spoiled in return. after all, you can't expect to be brought gifts after her missions and give her nothing in return!
no, when she steps through the door to your apartment and sheds her coat, she expects you to be there at the door to greet her (unless you're otherwise occupied. she's understanding not a tyrant) and lets you kiss her as she relaxes under your hands. your scent alone reminds her she's safe here. she's not out surviving alone against horrors no one else could even fathom.
she might hand you an expensive bottle of perfume she had found or a beautiful necklace, but right after she expects you to help her undress in the bathroom and ready a warm bath. unless you have other things to attend to, she expects you to join her as well, pulling you to lay back against her chest as she hooks a chin over your shoulder.
it's grounding, she had once told you. you were warm and solid, real. you weren't some thing conjurned up by a mad man in order to take over the world. and really, you didn't mind pampering her and spoiling her. Ada was impossibly good to you even if she was away on missions for long periods of time. even away she would always find a way to contact you, letting you know she missed you and would be back as soon as she could be.
it warmed your heart each time she did.
because even though she could be far away at time, mentally or physically, she always remembered to remind you that she loved you ever so dearly. just like you loved her in return.
🥀 Synopsis - You saved his life. Now you’re his best woman, his right hand. What happens when business and pleasure make a bold intersection?
🥀 Pairing - Albert Wesker x Ada Wong x Reader with Albert Wesker x Reader being endgame
Word Count - 9.2k
CW - MDNI - Cannon-typical violence, Power dynamics, Betrayal, Drinking, Threesome (M/F/F), Oral sex (f! Receiving), Slapping, Adabert situationship™️ , Vaginal sex, Vaginal Fingering, Praise kink, Overstimulation, Teasing, Banter, Mutual yearning, Dominant Albert Wesker, Dominant Ada Wong, Reader is bisexual, Ada is bisexual, Albert is… Albert, blood kink mentioned, crying kink mentioned (or just him being turned on by blood & tears), Jack Krauser mentioned, Leon Kennedy mentioned
Authors Note - Thanks @sugardollss for the request!
Reader is so Weskerpilled it makes her look stupid. Also Wesker and Ada give major mommy & daddy vibes (they need a divorce)
Nightmares still pursued you from the Spencer Mansion. Down the dim stairwell, LED lights flickering above, the dead infected that littered the hallways. Albert Wesker laying supine on the laboratory floor in a puddle of black blood. A trickle trailing from his chin, soon to join them. The sickly green glow of the vats and computer screens did little to hide the pallor of his skin. His uniform was ruined, a cavernous wound gaping his chest from where the Tyrant run him through with its claws. The devastating smile he gave you when you showed up just as Chris and Jill left him to die. His savior. The personal medic he had as a contingency, should the STARS annihilation plan go awry. You couldn’t say you saw the shine of rare gratitude in his blue eyes, not when your deft hands were busy injecting painkillers and coagulants.
The shine of surrender was there as well. The bitter realization that Dr. Albert Wesker was not invincible. He had miscalculated- he hated that word. It was his lowest point he had achieved in his life.
Yet there you were.
Praying your bloodstained fingers kept up with the process your mind was ushering you through to ensure survival. It ached in your memory, how close he was to death. How his breath rattled as you dumped your med kit on the floor. Maintaining your composure as you touched the slick skin around the wound. Breathing the same, stale air as his eyes focused on yours while your hands worked. How his hands grabbed onto your medic vest, white-knuckled, as you worked him through the pain like you were his only anchor to this plane. At that time you were.
You cried yourself to sleep that night once he was stable and back at your med bay.
The scar on his chest from your efforts faded almost entirely when his virus kicked in.
That was six years ago.
And he still wouldn’t let you go. He was intelligent, composed, terrifyingly charismatic, and beneath all that burned a desire for complete control. So, who better than to leave some of the most critical parts of his plan with than you? The person who has never let him down.
While you were medically trained, comms had become your real post when there was no need for medical care. Which meant being stationed in the spacious command center in his ship off the Spanish coast. This would be a dream for some; however, not to you. The ocean roiled against you for a week, gagging over ginger chews and herbal teas until your stomach surrendered to the motion of the ocean. By the time sunrise bled through the command center's small window, you'd made a ritual of that last cup. Peace, finally, in the foreground. You were mid-sip when the door hissed open. You swiveled in your chair. Tall and stoic as ever- in stepped Albert Wesker.
“Morning…" you hummed, setting down your tumbler. "What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Nothing at all." He stepped behind you, eyes scanning your screens from behind his dark sunglasses. "Just letting you know we need another mercenary for this mission. You’ll be managing her.”
Nails tapping on the desk. You caught the faint scent of his cologne. “I’m already having to manage Krauser and he’s already a pain to bring to heel…”
“I promise she will be a breath of fresh air by comparison.” His gaze traced your features, “I know you can handle them both. With poise and excellence as usual.”
Your shoulders eased, “Flatterer. Who?”
“You’ll be managing Ada.”
“Wong?”
“That’s right. Brief her. She'll contact you at the waypoint. Dusk launch, 1900 hours.”
"Sounds good." You gave a small smile, sipped your bitter tea, and turned back to the array.
"My dear?" A hand brushed a stray hair from your line of sight.
You almost choked. Still unused to the pet name. "Yes?"The fingers lingered, deliberate, behind your ear. His touch was cold, yet there was a strange weight to it.
“I need this to go well.”
You nod reassuringly. “Copy.”
A few hours later, you traipsed into the kitchen for snacks. You winced, the desk chair hurt your ass after a while and you made a mental note to get up and stretch more. The evening sun glared off the ocean, harsh after the darkness of the command center. You squinted, letting yourself actually enjoy the ship for once. Cool tones, polished surfaces, warm lamplight. Sea breeze through the windows. You settled at the bar, pulled a triple espresso up on the machine to lock in for the long night ahead.
Your phone pinged mid-pour. Headset call. Back to the array.
"Miss Wong?"
"Just Ada. You're my handler?"
"Yes, ma'am. Good to make contact. Are you at the waypoint?"
"Affirmative."
"Perfect. Let's begin.”
You ran the briefing: clean, efficient, pausing for questions. There were none, until:
"How do you like working with Wesker?"
The question landed softly and unexpected. You straightened, "Albert? He's great. Known him years. He's not everyone's cup of tea, but once you get to know him…" you trail off.
"He warms up?"
"Exactly." You caught yourself smiling. "You know how he gets."
Ada chuckled, dry and knowing. "Quite domineering. But yes. Thanks for the briefing, I'll be in contact."
"Been in the business a while. If you need anything, reach out. I'll be here."
"Good to know." A lilt in her voice, a smile. "I feel safer already."
The line went dead. Silence settled. You typed a few notes, took a swig of coffee. Your eyes drifted, to the chair he'd sat in that morning. The ghost of his cologne still clung to the air, or maybe you were imagining it. You'd gotten good at imagining things where he was concerned.
“Nice to see you’re getting along.” Albert purrs from behind you.
You jumped back in your chair, nearly spilling your coffee on your keyboard. “Albert, you have to stop sneaking up on me! I’m locked in here. Maybe knock?”
He frowned, “Why do I have to knock? It’s my boat.” He stepped up behind you, hands settling on the back of your chair sunglasses catching the glare of the array. Your eyes traced his holster straps snug around his shoulders, the brown leather standing out against the dark color of his vest and shirt.
“Common courtesy?” You offered.
“Dully noted. I didn’t realize you were so scared of me.”
“Terrified.” You joked. “Shivers down my spine whenever I see your face.”
“I hope not darling, I can’t have my best woman be scared of me. Might affect your output.”
A blush surged to your cheeks, praying the monitor glow hid it as you cleared your throat. Best woman. You'd replay that in your mind later.
Albert leaned over your shoulder, scanning the screens. His fingers brushed the bare skin of your shoulder. A small, electric touch. You shivered, and you knew he felt it.
"Cold?" he asked, tone velvet, knowing.
"A little, " You lied. There was always a steady warmth in the room due to the servers.
The phone on the desk buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. Reaching for it, you view the small caller display with a groan before answering.
“Krauser, what’s the situation? Listen- okay.” You look over your shoulder at Albert, “You want to talk to Wesker instead? Yeah, I’m sure you do.” Pausing for a moment you respond, “He’s busy. Is it something I can- I said he’s busy-“ turning down the phone volume before returning it to your ear, letting out a frustrated sigh while Albert chuckled behind you. You hated how much you liked it. “Come again? That’s all you need, really? I can do that.” You roll your eyes, “Yes, Jack. I can do that. I’ve been doing it this whole time- Don’t raise your voice at me. Bye.”
As you hung up you pressed your fingers to your temples. Failing to massage out the newly acquired migraine blooming behind your eyes.
“I’m sure Ada will be much better than dealing with him.”
“I need a raise.”
“You’ll get one soon. I promise your efforts haven’t been lost on me.”
You didn't turn around. If you did, he'd see your face. And you weren't ready to explain your blush. So you just nodded, "Copy.”
Through the next few days of the operation, Albert checked on your progress. Sometimes he lingered, laptop open, stepping into the hallway for calls. Sometimes he just stayed. Evaluating your process. It used to bother you, having him observe your movements. Now it felt natural and if he had issues with your methods he never made them known. And the company was nice. The hum of the servers got lonely. Krauser's demands and Ada's updates only filled so much space. Occasionally he brought you meals the ship chef had prepared.
"You really didn't have to." You smiled softly, taking the tray of fresh food. "I have snacks and energy drinks in my desk."
"Darling, I see the snacks you eat. You're lucky you're still alive." He chided. "I'm happy to bring you actual food. For efficiency's sake."
Efficiency's sake. The phrase echoed in your head long after he left.
You ate.
"Ada's been in contact with a man," you offered one evening, pulling up a photo on the display. "Leon Kennedy, I believe. Any cause for concern?"
Albert shook his head. "A nuisance. I'll address Ada when she comes back."
He hovered over your shoulder, checking documents, signing contracts. Close enough that you caught his cologne again, that familiar, maddening scent.
"Well done." His voice dropped, a low purr. "You're ahead of schedule."
"Figured it has to get done at some point. Might as well finish now." You stretched, rolling your shoulders. "I want to explore the boat now that I'm feeling better."
Albert nodded, still scanning the paperwork. Then, almost absently: "You are quite compelling, my dear." Your fingers stilled on the keyboard. You didn't trust yourself to respond. So you just breathed and kept typing. He cleared his throat, tucking documents into a folder. "Before I go- Ada will be coming to the ship tomorrow. Briefing, replenishing supplies."
You nodded, already mentally planning.
He paused at the door. "We'll all have dinner together. Dress for the occasion, would you?"
You suddenly became very aware of your days-old hoodie and leggings. "Of course. I-uh, I'm not sure I have anything packed that's dinner level..."
"Yes, you do." You could feel his gaze even through the dark lenses. "It's waiting for you in your quarters. Meet on the reception deck at 8, alright?"
He left before you could ask how he knew your size. You sat there, staring at the door. Then you looked down at your hoodie, a coffee-stain you missed on your pocket, and smiled despite yourself.
That evening, you finally left the command center. Your quarters were small but comfortable, queen bed, a porthole. You showered, letting the hot water work the tension from slouching too close to the monitors from your shoulders. Emerging from the steamy bathroom to find the garment bag lying untouched across your bed.
You did your makeup with the sparse collection you'd brought, nothing too fancy. Just enough to feel grounded. A little definition, a little glow.
The dress; however, is a different story.
It was was a high-neck Tom Ford number, open back, liquidly elegant in a deep navy tone. You slipped it on and it fit like it had been made for you. The shoes, as well. Block heels, thank goodness, you couldn't imagine wobbling around in stilettos. You wanted to maintain at least a shred of composure and confidence for the evening. Albert would probably think it charming in a naive sort of way, to see you stumble around like a newborn fawn. The thought made you cringe. You practiced walking for a solid twenty minutes. Back and forth across the small cabin, heels clicking against the floor. The modest height made your legs look longer, but more importantly, they were walkable.
Still, a question nagged: When had you ever told him your shoe size? Maybe it had come up and you'd forgotten.
You caught your reflection in the small mirror as you practiced past. The dress clinging in all the right places. You looked polished. Like you belonged. Opting to put your hair up, the neckline begged for it.
With newfound confidence you straightened your spine, took a breath, and opened the door.
Albert met you at the bottom of the stairs.
"Change of plans?" you asked.
"No." A pause. "I just wanted to see if the dress was to your liking."
"It's beautiful. I love it. The shoes too." You trailed off, a hand smoothing dark fabric. "I think it's worth more than all my other clothes combined."
"Consider it a part of your raise." His lips twitched, almost a smile. "Come. Ada should be here."
The scent of cooking meat, rich and herbal, and salad vinaigrette, tangy and spicy, drifted from further inside. Your stomach growled quietly, reminding you that snacks and energy drinks weren't a sustainable diet.
Ada was already there when you arrived, rising from her seat with effortless grace. You hugged her, warm, genuine
"Any injuries I should know about?" you asked, pulling back.
She smiled. "I'm not like Krauser. I know how to handle myself without damage. But thank you."
"Beautiful dress," you offered.
Ada glanced down at her signature red silk, black choker at her throat, dark lip stain perfectly in place. "Oh, this old thing? Compared to yours, I feel undressed."
"Hardly." You laughed softly. "You look phenomenal."
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. "I have to know: where did you find it?"
You felt the blush creep up before you could stop it. "I didn’t have anything to wear for the occasion… Albert picked it out. It was waiting in my quarters."
Ada's brow lifted slightly. "Tasteful." The word hung there. "Very tasteful." You cleared your throat, grateful when Albert appeared beside you.
"My favorite mercenary," he purred, his attention fixed on Ada. No hugs, no handshakes, just his cool, appraising stare.
Ada met it. "Albert."
The conversation flowed smoothly when dinner began. Assisted by the wine, you were thankful. Albert was witty, his intelligence a tangible presence at the table. He spoke about his work with a controlled passion delivered in that low, velvety voice that seemed to vibrate right through you. You found yourself leaning in, captivated, despite having heard it all before. Ada, for her part, was effortlessly alluring. She sat back lacing her elegant fingers together and resting them on her knee, ensuring the slit of her dress revealed her thigh. She knew exactly what she was doing. You couldn't even blame her. You kept up, matching wits, holding your own between two people who could eat others alive. But every time Albert's eyes slid to you, every time he addressed you directly with that low hum of a voice, you felt your composure crack just a little.
Focus, you told yourself. You're here to work.
But the wine warmed you and Ada was watching both of you with a knowing smirk that made your stomach fall.
Dinner wound down, plates cleared, wine glasses nearly empty. The conversation had mellowed into something comfortable to the point where you’d almost forgotten the weight of the mission waiting outside the walls.
Albert leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Did you have a good time, my dear?"
"Oh, the food and company respectively were excellent." You smiled, genuine and warm. "I feel like a person again."
"After being cooped up in that comms room, I certainly hope so." Ada offered a knowing smile. "I think you needed this."
"Speaking of…" You reached for your phone for the first time that night. Your thumb hovered over the buttons, a flicker of hesitation cutting through the post-dinner haze. "If I may be excused, I need to check and see if Krauser sent in those reports. He should be nearing his objective."
Albert's posture shifted. The easy relaxation tightening into something sharper. "Let me know as soon as you get word from him."
He was antsy. It showed. Nearing the crest of a mission, he always got that way. The mask slipped a fraction, and you saw the hunger underneath. Nodding, you rose from your seat. The dress whispered against your legs as you straightened it, suddenly aware of how exposed your back felt, how the fabric clung.
"Ada." You gave her a small nod.
"Don't work too hard," she replied, but her eyes flicked briefly to Albert, then back to you.
You walked toward the door, heels clicking against the polished floor.
Behind you, you heard Ada's low voice, pitched for Albert alone: "She's good, you know. Better than you give her credit for."
And Albert's reply, velvet and dark: "I give her exactly as much credit as she deserves. Perhaps more."
You didn't turn around. You kept walking, heart hammering in your chest as you told yourself it meant nothing.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The heavy, dark wood door swung open, revealing his quarters. It was as meticulously designed as the rest of the ship, a vast platform bed with crisp white linens, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the black ocean, and a fireplace identical to the one in the dining room, this one already lit and blazing. The room was warm, air smelling of sandalwood and clean cotton. Albert walked to the fireplace, picking up a crystal decanter and pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a glass.
Ada scanned the room, shutting the door partially behind her. "The captain's quarters?” She mused, “What an honor."
"Is it to your taste?" He poured a second glass.
"It's nice. Probably the most comfortable you can be in the middle of the ocean." Taking a sip from the crystal.
Albert took a seat at his desk, the antique wood matching the rest of the room's dark opulence.
"Is that dog, Leon, you've been playing with on your mission also to your taste?"
Ada hummed crossing the room and leaning against the desk. "I like strays. They're endearing."
"He's a distraction."
"Exactly. A harmless distraction." She took another sip. "Jealousy is not very becoming of a man of your stature, Albert."
"Jealousy implies I want something someone else has," he set his glass down. "Your handler told me you crossed paths with him. Several times. Always seems that you’re there for him. Aren't you tired of saving him?"
"Once again, an endearing trait. I am a multitasker after all."
"No matter." Albert paused, "He and Krauser have a history anyway. He'll make short work of him." Ada's expression flickered, the fracture was brief. He studied her over the rim of his glass with that infuriating calm, the look of a man who'd already played out every move on the board. "I wouldn't give the order directly," he continued, voice smooth as the whiskey. “They will cross paths whether you like it or not. Jack Krauser has been hunting bigger game than strays for years. Your dog may learn what happens when he chases the wrong scent." Ada set her glass down. Too hard. The crystal clinked against the wood.
“Please, take it as an opportunity to see what he's made of, if he really matters." He hummed.
The air stilled. The silence stretched.
"You think this is a game to me.”
Albert tilted his head. "I think you've been playing games since the day I met you. I just never knew which side you were really on."
She laughed, low, humorless. "And you? You're so certain of yours?"
"I'm certain of what I want." His gaze held hers, unblinking. "That's more than most can say."
"Leon doesn't matter to me.”
"Liar." Albert stands. His hand was in her hair, tilting her head back, exposing the column of her throat. He just looked, like he was calculating where her vital arteries lay.
"You're right," she whispered, unmoving. "He doesn't matter. But Krauser-"
"Krauser follows orders." Albert's voice was low. "I don't. That's the difference between a weapon and the one who wields it."
She shoved him back. Hard. He stumbled half a step, chest heaving, blond strands falling across his forehead.
"You think you wield me?" Her voice ice. "I'm not a weapon. I'm the hand that holds it."
He smiled, fire in his cold eyes. "Then drop the knife, Ada. Let's see what you do with just your hands." The crack echoed off the windows. Open palm across his jaw.
Albert’s laugh followed, relishing the sting against his cheek. "There she is."
"I've wanted to do that for years," she huffed.
"I can tell."
He came back to her. Slow. Deliberate. His hand cupped her face, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
She moved before she thought about it. Her hand on his collar, dragging him into her. The kiss was rough, heated, hatred woven through every bruising second of it. His hands found her waist, her hips, pulling her against him. Pressing her against the desk. He found the hem of her dress and began working it up. She bit his lip and the taste of blood blossomed over his tongue.
Ada's fingers found the buttons of his shirt. His chest rose and fell beneath her touch. Pushing the fabric open, it slid from his shoulders, catching at his elbows before falling to the floor in a dark pool.
The firelight painted his skin in shadow, the lean lines of muscle apparent. Her eyes widened at the large, pale scar tissue against his sternum. So faint it was nearly imperceptible. Still unmistakable. Larger than her palm, Ada’s fingertips traced its circumference.
“How did you-?”
“Not one of my best moments… I had incredibly talented support.” Albert’s lips found hers, tearing her away from the thought, hand cupping her jaw, controlling.
A soft gasp escaped Ada as he pressed her against the wood, his body caging hers against the desk. Her nails raked down his chest.
The fire popped.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Stacking the papers, slid them into a folder, the report fresh off the press. You tucked it under your arm and walked, heels clicking through the ship's corridors. The warmth of the evening still clinging to your skin.
You checked the dining room first. Empty. Bar. Empty. Port office. Empty.
All typical haunts, nothing. Ada wasn't to be seen either. As you contemplated calling him you turned down the hallway to see the door to his quarters was slightly ajar. You pushed it open.
"Albert, I have the reports from Krauser-“
The files fell from your hands. Pages scattered across the floor like white feathers. The taste of bile rose in your throat. Not seasickness. Oh, you wished it was.
Albert had Ada pressed against his desk. Her fingernails raked rough against his pecs, his hair disheveled, hands gripping while her legs wrapped around him, her hand around his neck.
"Darling, what happened to common courtesy?" He didn't even look at you. "The reports. Set them on my desk-"
Ada slapped his face. Hard. The crack echoed through the room.
"Asshole," she hissed.
"What?"
"God, Albert, you're fucking cruel." Her voice dripped with venom. "She obviously has a crush on you. Doing this to her-"
You moved on instinct, bending, gathering the scattered pages, putting them back in the folder and tossed them onto his desk. Your legs refused to carry you deeper into the room. They only wanted out.
A cruel smile curled at the corner of his lips. And then, in a voice low enough to make your skin crawl: "She's smart enough to know that what happened between us doesn't mean anything, Ada." His hands trailed off her figure. You turned towards the door. Heard his boots behind you. “Where do you think you're going?"
Breath finally came back to you. Your throat felt raw. "I really think it's best I leave..." The words scraped out, each syllable felt heavy on your tongue. His boots sounded steadily behind you.
A predator circling.
Before you could get too far, his arm wrapped around you and pulled you back. Firm, unyielding, against his chest. "I haven't dismissed you."
His arm stayed locked over your chest. His other hand came up slowly, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
You tried not to flinch. But betrayal roiled in your chest, acidic. You wanted to push him away, echo Ada's slap on his other cheek, scream, pitch yourself off the deck into the cold ocean and let the tides comfort you in death. Tears welled in your eyes.
He just stared at you for a moment. His eyes, hidden behind the dark of his glasses, scanned your pretty face. Your lips parted, breath shallow, and his thumb ran against the seam. Then he leaned closer.
"Oh darling, tears? We can't have that.
You tried to steel yourself. Biting your lip. "What are you doing, Albert?" You whispered hoarsely.
"What I always do." His voice was smooth, infuriatingly composed. "Testing limits." You swallowed hard. "I want you to be here with me, dearest." His thumb traced your jawline. "Do you think you can indulge us?"
Fortune favors the bold. You thought bitterly.
You reached up and gently took off his glasses. Folding them slowly, setting them onto the desk beside the scattered reports. His eyes were startling. Pale blue and finally exposed. The thought surfaced from somewhere deep, a last stand of defiance.
Albert didn't say anything.
You let out a sigh, as if humoring the situation, and turned around. "My dress-“
His hands settled on your waist. Pulling the zipper down gently. The fabric loosened, cool air kissing your bare skin.
Baring yourself to your boss and the mercenary coworker you'd just met tonight. Not exactly a typical day.
You stepped out of the dress. Albert ducked down behind you, unbuckling your heels and setting them neatly beside your feet on the floor. Then his hands trailed up your figure, slow, deliberate.
"Beautiful," he stated. A simple fact. No warmth, just observation.
You forced yourself to ignore him. Not wanting to dignify the betrayal with a response to a comment that would have made you swoon otherwise.
"Sweetheart, you don't want him." Ada's voice cut through the thick air. She slid off the desk, her red dress falling back into place as she walked toward you, barefoot on the polished floor. "He's so vain and controlling." You stood frozen, exposed, Albert's hands still ghosting your waist. Ada's eyes swept over you. "Have you seen him pout when he doesn't get what he wants?" She stopped in front of you, practically chest to chest. "So unbecoming for a grown man."
Albert's jaw tightened behind you. You felt the shift in his posture, the coiled tension.
"Ada," he warned.
She completely ignored him. Her fingers came up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with gentleness. "You're too good for him." Her dark eyes held yours. "And you know it."
Your throat closed. The tears you'd been fighting threatened to spill again, not from heartbreak, but from the sheer, unexpected kindness.
"Besides," Ada added, a smile playing at her lips, "if you're going to make bad decisions, make them with someone who actually deserves you. Have you ever been with a woman before?” She asks trailing her fingertips along your bare shoulders. After a beat, you nod your head in confirmation. Ada hums, pulling away from your ear, “This should be very easy for you then.” She leans in, enveloping you in a kiss, a delicate hand coming up to wipe away the tear at the corner of your eye. She smelled like jasmine and vanilla. Sweet and calming that made you just want to fall away.
Wesker quirked a brow, a mild sense of surprise taking him at your response. "Well now." A low murmur from behind you. "You think you know a person."
"Apologies that the topic of my sexuality never came up, Doctor." You spat before returning your focus to Ada. Her lip stain isn’t quite your color but you don’t mind it peppered over your mouth and cheeks. Tracing her body, you felt the softness of her skin through the silk. Thighs, where you hiked up her dress, fingers pressing into warm flesh. She let out a soft sound of approval.
"Oh, so we're back to 'Doctor' now, are we?" He purred against your ear. "I haven't heard that in years from you… Come on, my dear. You're one of the few people I allow to call me Albert. I'd be hurt if you didn't."
"Maybe," you moaned as Ada pressed a rough kiss to your neck, teeth and tongue and heat. Your hand reached up her spine, cradling her back, pulling her closer. "Maybe you should be-”
"Maybe." His hands found your hips again, thumbs pressing into the dip of your waist. "Let me make it up to you, darling. I promise it will be worth your while." His grip tighter now, possessive.
Ada's smile sharpened, reading him. "She's standing right here, Albert. Let her speak for herself." Pulling back, her eyes searched yours, asking.
Both of them looked at you.
The room felt too small, too hot, too much. Ada's hand still lingered near your cheek, Albert’s hands on your waist. You flushed under both their attention. The weight of their gazes pressed against your bare skin, hot and expectant.
"I…" You trailed off at the proposition. Heart hammering, your mind screamed caution. But something else, reckless and tired of being hurt, steeled itself.
"Yes." The word came out firmer than you expected. You locked eyes with Ada first, saw a flicker of approval there, then glanced back at Albert over your shoulder. "Make it up to me." Your held your breath. Then quieter, bolder, "Both of you."
Ada's smile was feline, triumphant.
Albert's grip tightened hungrily.
"Well then," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I do love a woman who knows what she wants."
Ada stepped closer, her fingers finding your chin, tilting your face toward hers. "Good girl," she breathed. And then she kissed you deep, unhurried, tasting of whiskey.
Your hands rested on her waist. She let the straps fall off her shoulders as you tugged her dress down inch by inch, baring her to the low light.
Her fingers traced your breasts softly, featherlight, and you felt your nipples pebble under her touch. A quiet moan escaped you, louder as she pinched, rolling the sensitive peaks between her fingers. Taking advantage of your open mouth, she slipped her tongue across your lips, caressing against your own. One teasing lick after another. Her lips left yours, trailing down your neck in hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your head roll back onto Albert's shoulder. He was waiting, his mouth finding the other side of your throat, kissing and biting in tandem with her.
You felt like you were being torn apart by wolves. Strategically targeting your weak points. The hollow of your throat, the curve of your jaw, the spot above your carotid artery that made your knees buckle. They worked in devastating sync, bringing you down between them. Your hands clutched at Ada's bare shoulders. Your back arched into Albert's chest. And you couldn't tell where one of them ended and the other began.
Moments later you’re kneeling on the bed.
Albert holding you close against his body, back to his chest, his knee coming up to kick your legs to spread open, making room for Ada. Her body is pressed against yours, breast to breast.
You don't even get chance to react before her teeth slightly pull on one of your nipples while she pinching the other. You moan as she kisses, licks, and bites, her hands not leaving them.
Albert’s hands come around to caress and squeeze, moving one to her mouth as she latched on with a bite that made you keen. “Please, Ada-”
She lowers her hand to touch your pussy, fingers spreading your glistening petals. “So wet already,” she hums as her fingers slide between your folds. “I bet you haven’t had a lot of time to yourself since this assignment.” You nod, body twisting towards her, wanting more. “Workaholic. Reminds me of someone I know.” Her dark eyes catching Albert’s over your shoulder. She kissed down your body before lying down, her head settling between your thighs that Albert had nicely spread open. Her fingers spread your pussy. Eyes scanning every inch between your naked legs. “Such a pretty pussy.”
You release a shaky breath, cheeks flushed.“Y-You think it’s pretty?”
Her hands caressed your thighs, gripping softly, “Oh sweetheart, you’re gorgeous.”
With one soft and slow swipe of her tongue between your folds your head dropped back, meeting Albert’s firm body behind you. His arm keeping you from moving, forcing you to take Ada’s tongue as you mewled.
Her tongue is flat, like she wants to make sure she gets to taste all of you. She flicks over your clit and a loud moan leaves you. You feel her smirk against your thighs as she brings her hands up to your hips. She tastes you, sees what makes you twitch and tremble on her tongue and honing in on what makes your lips part in a pretty moan.
Shuddering, keeping your knees spread so you have to take everything Ada gives you. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers.
“That’s so good-“ You mewl.
Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes as Albert wraps a hand around your throat, gently guiding you to look back at him.
“Can you do something for me?” His voice soft.
You nod, “Yes?”
“Tell me what Ada is doing between your legs. Every movement. Where she sucks and licks you.”
You hesitated, “I’m not very-“
“Try for me, darling.” Ada’s hands on your thighs gave a reassuring squeeze.
“It…ah, her tongue- is it's licking up and down my pussy. It’s flat and ah-soft“ your head couldn’t keep up, blush rising to your cheeks trying to grind you hips down into her face. Her saliva mixed with your arousal, some dripping down to her chin.
“Ah ah, darling, come on now,” Albert squeezed your breasts in his hands, his breath hot against your neck.
You whined, “She’s sucking on my clit and licking it with her tongue- oh, it feels so good, like- like patterns. She’s dipping her tongue inside of me-”
“Mhmm, good girl,” he praised, fingers weaving through your hair, lightly teasing your scalp. “You adapt so well, looking so gorgeous for me falling apart on her tongue. I wonder if I can get the same reaction from you…” Ada’s tongue flickered back through your folds, licking and swirling until she concentrated her efforts on your sensitive bud. “How does she taste, Ada?” Albert asks, his typically controlled tone husky with lust.
She pulled away taking a breath and giving you a reprieve from the onslaught. “So good. How come you’ve been hiding this sweet little thing from me?”
“Because I know you’d eat her up and leave nothing left. I’m selfish, you know.”
“I’ll take my share now then.”
“Add some fingers.” Albert ordered over your shoulder.
She slowly pumps the one finger in and out, before she adding a second. All you can do is moan as she slowly opens you while her tongue stays attached to your clit. “Oh Ada-,” you whispered. Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you.
“Feels good right, sweetheart? Look how beautiful you are taking my fingers, such pretty sounds too.” She hummed into you, the vibrations tearing a whimper from your throat. “Are you going to cum for me?” Her voice so saccharine. Nodding, your eyes screwing shut, hips canting before your body tightens, fluttering and cumming around her fingers. Small whines leaving you as you savored the crest of your climax. She hums in approval against your clit, pace not slowing. Enjoying every second. As you rode out your orgasm, you felt Ada laugh softly against you, absolutely delighted to see you fall apart. Stilling, she ran her thumb over your clit, your hips bucking up as you groaned at the overstimulation.
“P-please...” is all you can say before her mouth pulls away gently from your folds and she removes her fingers from you.
Looking down between your legs, you watch her lift her fingers to her mouth licking them clean of your essence. She softly ran her hands up and down your thighs, thumbs pressing comforting circles against your skin as she sits up. Eyes leaving your core to admire you: face flushed, pupils blown.
Albert broke you from her trance with a soft kiss to the side of your neck. His cock standing hot and heavy at full attention against your lower back.
Shuddering, you look at him. His smile was a slow, predatory thing. The hand that hand snaked around your throat tilting your chin up to expose your neck.
“I’ve known for a while now that you’ve wanted this… but do you how long I’ve wanted it?" His voice a low rumble.
You went still under his touch. “You’ve wanted-?”
“Don’t be dense. Of course I have.” His hands held you against him. “Since I saw your hands covered in my blood. When I was on the brink of death all those years ago.” His lips trailing down the back of your neck, pressing a chaste kiss to your vertebrae. “The tears in your eyes, that complete devotion, so attractive.” Musing, almost to himself, “I think that’s sight alone kept my blood in my body… if you understand what I’m saying.”
“You’re filthy-“ you choked out, blush rising to your cheeks.
“You love it, darling.” He hummed into your neck with an evil satisfaction before leaning in and kissing you for the first time that night. Lips warm, soft, you savored the brief reprieve. They lingered before his hand pressed your spine down, forcing you into Ada’s waiting embrace. Back arching into a pretty curve. “Go on, show Ada what a good girl you are and return the favor.”
Ada’s hands found your hips against her. Your naked bodies so close, feeling each others body heat. Your hands wander down and you cup her tits, squeezing softly. She lets out a sigh before she stops kissing you, her body lowering back, resting her head on the pillows. You follow her down but instead of going to her lips, you attach your lips in her nipple licking and kissing as your fingers played with her other one. You then move your kisses down her body, kissing her stomach, admiring her figure before moving down to her crotch. Leaving soft kisses all the way down her thighs until you reach her folds.
You spread her open with your thumbs before opting to grab her thighs, moving them up into a comfortable position. A gentle lick to her clit first, hearing her hum in approval already, you flatten your tongue out and feel all of her. She tasted sweet. You swipe up and down through her folds, feeling her flinch when you swipe over her clit. Moving your hands to spread her open, massaging the sides of her labia gently. You narrow your tongue down to it, adding some pressure to your licks, earning beautiful moans from the mercenary.
“Just like that, sweetheart,” Ada’s voice so soft and encouraging.
You do as she wishes. Her hand reaches down and pushes your head further into her, fingers tightening against your scalp as she steers you. You easily get lost in her, the smell and taste of Ada taking over your senses.
So lost that you almost don't feel the bed dip as Albert settles behind you.
He caresses your body like he’s inspecting an offering laid out for him. Fingers trailing back to your spread legs, hand clasping your inner thighs, palm covering your whole cunt with ease even as you try to jolt away, patience thinning. He uses two fingers to spread your drooling folds apart. Letting his warm breath breeze against your parted pussy just to see the way you twitch. Teasing his thumb to glide down your opening collecting that honeyed wetness that nearly dripped from you. Lips parting ever so softly, blue eyes take in that sight. On display, vulnerable, another surge of blush rose to your cheeks.
A small smile appears on his face. "You’re right Ada, she does have a pretty pussy.” Paying a couple of light slaps against the softness, your body jerking forward whining into Ada.“Sensitive…” He murmured, “You are exceeding expectations.” His hands caressed your sides, slowly mapping, pressing down on your lower back so you arch for him perfectly. “There we go,” he hums.
A soft moan leaves you as he slots his thick tip between your folds. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot gliding between your thighs being drenched with your arousal.
“You get so wet when I praise you... Have you always been like this?” He interrogated. “Do you sit in your office with soaked panties every time you meet my expectations?”
His hands moving your hips just so, lining you up perfectly.
“Answer me.” Desire, the need to hear you confess, creeping into the edges of his tone.
“Y-yes,” you answer, muffled into Ada’s pussy as the vibrations earned a whine from her.
“Yes, what?” Tapping the head of his cock against your clit, the action making you jolt. Overly sensitive since your last orgasm and his relentless touches and teases making you drip onto him.
“Yes! Albert, when you praise me I, I- get turned on. I love it. I want to please you!”
A small, appreciative smile, “Then it makes sense why you have such a wonderful performance record. I should have let you know exactly how much you please me long ago.” He chuckles, amused with your shamelessness when you whine and shove your hips upward. The teases of his head against your clit making you moan again into Ada.
“Fuck, keep going sweetie, I’m close-” Her thighs twitched with every stroke of your fingers.
Ada grinds her hips into your face chasing the vibrations from your lips. You plunge another finger in deeper, curling the two of them upwards until the pads of your fingertips find the spot that makes her mouth gape open in a sweet moan. Your tongue never lets up on her clit, licking and tracing letters into it relentlessly.
"Faster, ngh,” she whispers. Her thighs are quivering. A thin sheen of sweat coats her skin, flushing pink. “Gonna cum-”
Her thighs clamp around your head as she throws her head back in bliss, her release pooling onto your tongue as you lick it up. Her whole body shakes as she cries out. The tug of her fingers in your hair pull you up as you take shaky breaths, cheek leaning against her inner thigh.
Albert’s hands glide down to grip the lush swell of your hips, easing forward, stretching you inch by staggering inch. It ached in the sweetest way, your walls hugging him so tight, making him curse low under his breath. By the time he bottomed out, you were trembling beneath him, hips flush, his pelvis pressing soft against the curve of your ass. He drew back, the broad head of his cock dragging slow and heavy along your sensitive walls, before rolling forward again with a deep, deliberate stroke.
“My perfect girl. Look at your body arch for me, such a sweet desperate thing.” He paused, watching Ada pet your hair and coo praise at you.
It was like you had forgotten what you were doing, unable to focus now. Dazed, you squeezed Ada’s thighs and savored the softness filling your palms. You pulled away, mouth wet with Ada’s release. Her pale thighs tremor slightly as you massages soft circles and kisses onto the sensitive skin.
“I never said to stop eating Ada’s pussy, did I, darling?” He paid a small, sharp slap to your ass causing you to jolt back against him.
“But she- she finished,” you stammered.
“Oh, I think she can take a little more from you, she’s very tough.” He hummed patronizingly.
Ada stared daggers into him before she acquiesced, letting her head fall back into the pillows.
You mouthed, “I’ll be gentle,” before going back between her legs. At that moment Albert thrusted meanly into you, another whine tearing from your throat. His pace gradually increasing.
Fuck, it was going to be hard to focus.
So you carry on with your licking, staying away from her clit to try to ease the sensation and avoid overstimulating her. Trailing your tongue up and down her outer labia, still giving her pleasure just not as intense.“Good girl,” Ada moans. The praise sweet enough to quell the soreness starting in your jaw.
“Look at you taking everything I’m giving you…” Albert murmured. “Poise and excellence.”Your ass bounced back against his waist, cunt snug around his cock as your moans pitched higher, still muffled. “Unlike some people who just can’t seem to understand the concept of following orders.” He spat, eyes finding Ada. Her fingers tugged close to your scalp, urging you deeper into her pussy seeking another climax. Out of the corner of your eye you see her flip him off over your shoulder. A small smile spread across your lips while you suck her clit.
She shudders and you drink down her second orgasm. You free a hand and bring it up to her breast, cradling the soft flesh as you let your thumb brush over her nipple.
"So good for me, sweetheart." Her voice a satisfied purr, "He's just a big brat."
He stilled for half a beat. Then a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, "Brat?" He repeated the word like he was tasting it. His hand found your hip, squeezing once before his gaze lifted to Ada. "I've been called many things, my dear. But brat? That's a new one."
His thumb traced idle circles on your skin before grabbing onto your waist. A swift movement as he flips you. You moan softly, back hitting the vast bed as he fills you up again, his cock settling deep inside you. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his torso and rake a hand up his back until you find his hair and tangle your fingers in his strands.
He kissed you for the second time that night. It’s like he had fasted to make a feast taste more decadent. It was possession. A claiming. You melted against him, absolutely filling your senses. Your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders, body arching into his. The only undeniable fact is that you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. Both of you breathed shakily against each other's mouths, foreheads pressed together while you stare straight into each other's eyes. That vulnerability making everything feel ten times filthier than it already is. Every slow drag of his cock makes your thighs tremble, but you can't look away. You don't want to. He won't let you, hand finding your chin, keeping your gaze on him.
Moaning out, you grab onto him. “Albert your-your cock feels so good! Keep going deeper- fuck me, fill me up-!"
“Is this really the same shy woman I have running my operation?” He hums in your ear.
“Yes-!” You groan.
“Keep going, darling. I love hearing your sweet sounds. Fall apart on my cock.” More blond strands fall into his eyes, sweat dripping down his chest as he groans with each inch he makes you take.
The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room. The kind where he's pressed so close against you, chest to chest, moving his hips in long strokes, sinking so deep with every thrust. It’s torturously good. Your pussy echoing filthy little squelches every time he rolls his hips. One of your hands latches on the thick bicep that he uses to keep you down. The groan he lets out is downright sinful. Craning his neck down, biting your breasts with the darkest love bites. The pain sizzling into pleasure with each suck and sharp glance of his teeth, marking you in every single way possible.
Pressure builds with every snap of his hips, your knees threatening to give out under the weight of his force. He drove into you with that same controlled intensity he brought to everything. Calculating, measured, raw. Each thrust hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes, until you were nothing but sensation. Your nerves blazed. Every touch, every brush of his fingers, every drag of his body against yours was magnified to the point of overwhelm. You were so sensitive, so lost in the pleasure, that all you could do was cling to him. Nails raking down his back, your legs locked around his waist, face buried in the curve of his neck, breathing him in, gasping his name like a prayer.
“Al-bert-“ you moan into his neck, it's a broken, pitiful sound from the back of your throat.
“Yes, darling?”
“I-I’m going to- I’m going to cum-“
"That's it," he groaned, voice rough and wrecked against your ear. "Let go. I’m going to finish inside you.” Statement. Claiming.
You shattered at his command, waves of pleasure crashing through you. He followed moments later, a low groan torn from his throat, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep and filled you up. You lay there, trembling, spent, clinging to him like he tethered you to this plane.
At that moment, he did.
His lips pressed to your forehead.
"Beautiful," he whispered, grip softening, "Absolutely beautiful."
His mouth presses gentle kisses to your back. Setting you down gently between he and Ada, the comfort of the mattress allowing you to sink in.
In your daze you feel a glass of water being pressed into your hand, a kiss on the back of your neck. A voice urging you to hydrate. You did so.
The silence stretched, comfortable and thick, broken only by the sound of your breathing slowly returning to normal.
The night had settled into something softer, the three of you tangled in the aftermath. Ada eventually removing herself with a satisfied stretch, reaching for her dress.
"That was fun." She pulled the silk over her head, smoothing it down. Picking up her glass and draining the rest of the liquor."I'm going to take my leave now." She set down the crystal glass on the desk and walked over to you. Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin, before she pressed a long, unhurried kiss to your lips.
"Sweet girl, you're wonderful" she murmured against your mouth. Then she pulled back, smiling, and gathered herself with that effortless grace.
At the door, she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "I look forward to your guidance in the future."
Then her eyes slid to Albert, and the warmth cooled into something sharper. She crossed to him, caressing his face with her hand, almost tender, mostly threatening.
"Don't forget what I said." Her voice was low but you caught every word. "She's too good for you. Don't fuck this up."
Albert said nothing. Just watched her with that unreadable gaze.
Ada slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone in the low light. The ship rocked gently. Albert's hand found yours in the silence. You lay against him, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin.
“Perhaps I should hook up with Krauser and give you a taste of your own medicine.” You murmured against his chest.
Albert chuckled. “That brute… I suppose I would be hurt. Although, it seems improbable considering you’d asphyxiate him before he could get your dress off.” He trailed off, his fingers running through your hair, “Unless he likes that kind of thing, then you might have trouble.”
You punch his arm playfully. “Sicko.”
“In all seriousness, I’d cut his hands off the moment he touched you, dearest. I hate the trouble he gives you.” He murmurs into your neck. “I promise you won’t have to deal with him for long.”
You let that settle. The two of you laid together in the low light of the room in a comfortable silence.
“I apologize. I miscalculated your affections.” He paused briefly. It took a moment for your brain to calibrate the fact that Albert Wesker just apologized to you. You looked up to him, meeting his raw eyes. “I’ll adapt for you.”
That was almost enough. You ran your thumb over the pale skin of his hand , “Do you think we could be involved romantically?”
Isn’t that what I just said?”
You rolled your eyes “Adapting for someone else isn’t necessarily romantic.”
“Well, my dear for you it will be. So the answer is an unequivocal yes.” His hand reached up and cups your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss to the other side. “That means you can’t chase after Ada no matter how convincing she may be.”
A chuckle leaves you, “You’d know all about her convincing, wouldn’t you, Doctor?
“I would, she’s very persuasive; but not as persuasive as you my darling.” He sighed. “Will you forgive me?” You let the statement hand in the air for a couple of seconds. Albert shifted minutely, enough for your sharp eye to catch. He did not like the variable in your response taking longer than anticipated. “To amend the situation I’ll make sure we have a more intimate first time than tonight.” The addition was desperate. And you knew, in that moment, just how much this cost him.
“If that were to happen…” you murmured, “I think I can forgive you for this one time.“
Relief flickered across his features for a moment. "Good girl." His hand found yours, squeezing once. "Let's shower."
This is a novel of a fic, apologies if it’s too long. Tbh this is one of the best things I've written and I'm really proud of it. I really hope you enjoyed 😚Anyways my asks are open! I’d love to write more RE characters so feel free to spitball ideas you’d like to see 🩷
Plot: Amidst a high-stakes investigation in a rain-drenched city, Y/N’s vampire hunger finally catches up to her, threatening to blow her cover. Her wife, Ada Wong, notices her staggering steps and pulls her into the shadows of a narrow alley, offering herself as the only cure to the desperation in a moment that is as lethal as it is tender.
Warnings: Descriptions of starvation and blood-drinking, themes of espionage and danger, physical trembling, and heavy romantic affection. Contains a "blood-drunk" dazed state and smudged lipstick.
The neon signs of the district bled into the puddles like spilled ink, casting long, jagged streaks of violet and crimson across the asphalt. Y/N leaned against the cold brick of a narrow alleyway, her breath hitching in a way that had nothing to do with the humidity. Her favorite black ruffled blouse was damp, the heavy silk clinging to her frame as she tried to suppress the shaking in her hands. It had been weeks since she’d had a proper meal; the high-stakes chase through the city had burned through her reserves, leaving her throat feeling like it was lined with rusted wire. Her vision was starting to fracture, the bright city lights turning into dizzying, painful strobes.
She was supposed to be Ada’s backup, the shadow in the rafters, but the hunger was turning her into a liability.
"You’re breathing too loud, darling. The mark is going to hear you before I even get in range."
The voice was cool, sharp, and carried the faint scent of expensive perfume and gunpowder. Ada Wong stepped out of the shadows, her red dress a vibrant slash against the grey concrete. She didn't look bothered by the rain; she looked like a predator who had already won the game. But as she moved closer, her dark eyes scanned Y/N’s trembling form, and her expression shifted from professional detachment to that soft, private adoration she saved only for her wife.
"Look at you," Ada murmured, reaching out with a gloved hand to tilt Y/N’s chin up. "You’re practically translucent. Did you think you could play the hero on an empty stomach?"
Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, her red eyes dilated as she caught the scent of Ada’s pulse—vivid, steady, and tantalizingly close. "I... I had it under control," she rasped, her voice breaking. "I just need... a minute."
Ada let out a soft, humored breath that wasn't quite a laugh. She didn't say a word; instead, she stepped into Y/N’s space, her body a slender, grounding weight that blocked out the rest of the city. She hooked an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her flush against her. "You’re a terrible liar. Lucky for you, I’m an expert at spotting them."
Ada shifted, her movements fluid and deliberate as she turned her head, exposing the pale, elegant line of her neck. She brushed her dark hair aside, her eyes locking onto Y/N’s with a challenging, devoted intensity. "Consider this a tactical necessity. I can’t have my wife fainting in the middle of a mission."
The invitation was all it took. Y/N’s brain officially short-circuited as she buried her face in the crook of Ada’s neck. The first taste was an explosion of heat—Ada’s blood was like the woman herself: sharp, sophisticated, and utterly overwhelming.
"Nnnngh... mmm..." Y/N grunted against her skin, her fingers clutching the silk of Ada’s dress as the needles in her throat finally vanished, replaced by a heavy, golden bliss.
Ada didn't flinch. She simply held Y/N steady, her free hand coming up to tangle in Y/N’s pink hair, her thumb tracing the shell of her ear. "There," Ada whispered, her voice a low, soothing vibration. "Take what you need, little bird."
When Y/N finally pulled away, she was a total wreck. Her face was flushed, her lips stained a deep, bruised red from the meal and Ada's own lipstick, and her eyes were half-lidded with pure satisfaction. She slumped against Ada’s chest, her head resting on her shoulder as the neon world started to feel soft and far away.
"I feel... dizzy," Y/N slurred, a cheesy, blood-drunk smile spreading across her lips. "The lights are... pretty."
Ada smiled, a rare, genuine expression. She reached out, using a thumb to wipe a stray crimson smudge from Y/N’s lip, before leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. "You’re absolutely ruined. Completely malfunctioning."
When Y/N didn't respond with words, only a series of happy, alien-like noises and a clumsy attempt to nuzzle back into Ada’s neck, the spy’s amusement grew. She began to relentlessly attack Y/N’s face with soft kisses—the forehead, the nose, the other cheek—until the vampire was giggling and squirming in her hold.
"Ada... stop... we have... a mission," Y/N protested weakly, her hands flopping out from her ruffles to blindly pat Ada’s face.
"The mission can wait ten minutes," Ada murmured against her jaw, her grip tightening possessively. "You're spoiled, and I'm the only one allowed to do it. Now, be quiet and let me finish."
Y/N just let out a long, shaky sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as she melted into the warmth of her wife’s embrace, the rain and the neon city fading into nothing but a beautiful, lipstick-stained blur.
synopsis - You’d swallow yourself in Ada’s arms—begetting the lurid scene, erotic in the dark of her apartment. Barely through the night could you imagine— humming against the jet-black, pressing yourself further into her lap— you couldn't imagine it any other way.
word count - 731
a/n - many creative liberties were taken i apologize i tried my best 😭😭 im not good at making songfics (is that what they’re called? idk) dont know what you wanted so i made it kinda smutty but didnt like actually make them frick lol
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You’d swallow yourself in Ada’s arms—begetting the lurid scene, erotic in the dark of her apartment. Barely through the night could you imagine— humming against the jet-black, pressing yourself further into her lap— you couldn't imagine it any other way.
Still, she beckons.
A manicured hand falls against your cheek. It is as gentle as she allows it to be; and, for this night, she has decided to be gentle.
“Dont look away.”
Ada talks and it is so sweet when you listen to the low notes.
You don’t blink when you kiss her. Soft when you meet the plush of her lips—parading as something pliable.
Ada is anything but. She is yours— you are hers, yet she is anything but. Something tangible though so far from your distanced fingertips.
You don’t blink when her hands delve lower and hook around the waistband of your pants. You don’t blink when she bites onto your neck and draws a thin line of blood from the indent of her canines.
She is beautiful— never more than now. When she is in control, a fetish for glass lips and reopened scars.
You trail a hand to her chest. There are scars— she’s never told you of them and you’d never ask—but you always found them beautiful. She winces over a keloid. Raised skin, reddened flesh.
Her fingers go to your jaw— a warning. Still, you prod along her collarbone, thin and gaunt—working your hand over the bones. Ada tightens around you and takes herself upon you by your lips till you can’t breathe.
Your peripherals are darkened when she finally lets you pull for breath— dizzying and fading fast into her arms.
“Good girl.”
She croons—pleased with how she has regained the situation. Her fingers are moving to your lips and they part the wet flesh beneath them.
Well trained as you are—you fixate her fingers, tonguing the manicured digits. Your lips are agape as she presses into the back of your mouth near your molars and you gag— but still—
“Dont look away.”
You don’t. You stare down at her from atop her lap and ride her thigh softly when her fingers lightly rub your gums. She doesn’t either—her gaze melting you into putty.
You ask with your eyes, because you think she might be mean enough to say yes.
You make a picture of it, sprawled over her lap and begging and crooning into the small space on her shoulder. You whisper into her ear— staring so intently you feel her stiffen beneath you.
“Im not going to do that.”
Ada says evenly—gagging you on her digits.
You drop the façade. Sometimes her contempt is an earned delicacy. This is not one of those times. More and more you await this rotten affair to spoil—and sometimes you look at Ada’s face with a little jolt and think the time has come.
Surely now—you suck on her fingers and attempt around the intrusion.
“Why not?”
“How spoiled you are,” Ada says, more sweet words turning fetid. “The world will not always bend to your desires. Neither will I.”
You whimper with your eyes shut and she jerks your chin hard enough for them to open— whispering into your ear.
“Dont look away.”
You don’t— while she undresses in front of you and you are abandoned from touch.
You don’t— when her lacey bra reaches the floor and she rubs herself on you— faintly erotic when she breathily moans.
You don’t, not when she fingers herself with you above her while your hands are practically tied behind your back— you want to kiss her, touch her, but she has denied you that gentleness that she had earlier provided
“Dont look away.”
You don’t, because she comes over herself on you and then finally shoves her fingers back into your mouth and makes you taste herself on them.
“So good for me, hm?”
You whimper—so good for her, you did so good. She tastes so good and you gag around her and it’s all you’ve ever wanted, to be beneath her. You reach a hand to touch her breast and she pulls it away to wrap it behind your back.
“No touching, dear. Let me help you.”
She kisses you again around your neck and leaves hickies.
