#evil resident reader

[phonkscribes]

Please write loser Wesker fantasizing about the reader but the games open so they're like "what are you doing lol" and hes like "NO!! NOTHING!!! NOT AT ALL!!"

Here you go! I made it kinda sappy, sorry if it's not what you were hoping for but I got inspired from a fic I read on ao3. Minor angst and comfort in this post of the Loser Wesker AU!

He opened the game, but not to play it. Today had been a particularly rough for him, given that he'd managed to get a bad grade on a test he was so sure he'd ace. His father was harsh, talking down to him about how he disappointed him when he knew he could've done better than that. Wesker knew that too, he was perfect-- he was supposed to be, but this put a blight on his record. Albert didn't like that at all, because he'd obsess over it, whether he wanted to or not. It'd sit in the back of his head like a tumor, and the longer he stares at you, the longer you wonder what has him in such a mood.

You wouldn't say such harsh things to him, you wouldn't have cared because at the end of it all, he was still brilliant and still great. He could look into your eyes for hours, tracing his pupils along your pixelated irises and sclera. He imagines what it'd be like if you were real. If you were here besides him. Your arms are quite strong, even for a silly old game, the developers did an impeccable job. He thinks about what it'd be like to find them wrapped around his body, pulling him into a firm hug. You think he forgets that you're not a mindless machine trapped within the confines of his computer, but in fact very sentient.

Silly boy.

You decide to not say anything, only raising your brow as per usual in your idle stance within the character select screen. Wesker lowers his head to the desk with a longing sigh, his lips pursed into a thin line as he extends his hand to his monitor. His hand ghosts the side of the screen, just out of sight from your field of view. Your hand would feel warm against his own, he bets. Albert thinks that it'd be overwhelming, startling because he's never had the privilege with someone who's grown as close to him as you have. Which is laughable because you don't know that yet, you're sure he has other people of whom he turns to confide. The silence that fills his room is only disrupted by the character select theme and his breathing, which irritates you. You weren't meant to sit still and look pretty.

You're a genetically modified being, constructed by your own will to enact your will. You're a god amongst gods, a ruler over the feeble sheep and slaughterer of the lambs who dare to rise up. What could he possibly be thinking of that has him so remotely lost? What could it be that has him staring at you so openly? Has the fool lost his shame at last?

"Albert", your tone is sharp, and it startles him from his little day dreaming, "Why are you wasting my time today?", you bark, but it's not in that condescending, holier-than-thou attitude that he's grown so used to.

You're... concerned. Which is touching, truly, but it still manages to catch him off guard. Wesker tries to regain his composure right after he had lost it, clearing his throat and acting casual.

"Er- sorry... I was just thinking about something", he replies quickly.

Your brow furrows, but you smirk, because it must involve you somehow. There's scarcely anything that doesn't involve you in his life at the moment. You're honored to have such a devout servant, even if he's quite pathetic at times. The way that you're looking at him makes him hold his breath, because Wesker figures you're about to ask him about just what that was.

"About?"

"Nothing important, I can assure you"

"Albert... do not lie to me", you soften your gaze and he feels like he's being pulled in. The color of his cheeks darken, which stirs something in you.

You like messing with him, the reactions he has are adorable, but you weren't doing that now. You wait for him to respond as you sit down, trying to level yourself with him. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes again as he takes a deep breath. He's thankful for his shades, otherwise this would be much harder if you could see him cry. He doesn't want to cry in front of you again, now that you were sentient and could see it.

The only thing that he keeps to himself is that he wants to so badly be within your arms, that he wants to hold onto you and never let go, to be saved from the high expectations, and to be at your side. There's only so much that you could tell another person, much less you.

[phonkscribes]

itd be funny if self aware reader catches Wesker writing fanfiction (write this pretty please)

Also I'm becoming 🦷 anon now

-🦷

Hello 🦷 anon, and I too think it'd be funny if the reader were to watch him do that.

He's typing away, fingers fast on the keyboard as he glances over at his second monitor. The secondary mode of Evil Resident open to the character selection screen. Wesker thought that his weekend ought to be devoted to updating the newest chapter of his reader insert fic on Ao3, then spend some sweet time with his beloved main as a reward. This scene in particular is one that his fellow fans have been waiting for, it's the third time he's writing it where you happen across the reader all by themselves. Of course he might've written in himself, but what would his friends think? Chris follows his account, eating up chapter after chapter because the fool can't write a decent fic to save his life. Typical. He didn't understand your character as well as he did.

It was one of the reasons why Wesker was so on the fence for allowing him a morsel of his work. As he types away, he pauses to glance over at you, a sigh falling from his lips. The build up is being dragged on for far too long, there isn't a good place to introduce you into the story that doesn't feel out of place. He worries that if he does it so suddenly, it'll break immersion. You furrow your brows, not liking your little pest to look so worried. He's far too young to be developing wrinkles now. What could possibly be making him feel so troubled?

"Is something the matter?", you ask, a little irritated with his prolonged stare and pout on his lips.

"Hm? Oh... it's... it's nothing, I can assure you", he replies, getting right back to work with his typing.

You're not convinced, and perhaps he knows that. Your eyes peer through the screen as you stare at his surroundings, various posters and figurines were casted in his background, many of which happened to involve you. You're no fool, so you can assume that whatever it is he's doing must also involve you somehow. If only there were a way to shift the monitor to face the other. You fold your arms, shifting yourself from the border that occupies you to instead glance at the reflection of light in his shades. Words appearing backwards as the cursor blinks before he hits the backspace key.

"What are you writing?", you prompt him further, determined to get an answer that satisfies your liking.

"... It's a project I'm working on", which isn't technically a lie.

You can see the way his blue eyes avert to the side, so it must embarrass him. You're able to put two and two together, especially when you briefly see your name flash once or twice in the white light on his shades. The longer you stare, the more nervous he becomes, wondering why you're almost glaring at him with that intensity. A chuckle sounds from either side of his headphones, making him shiver as you smirk. At this point it's rather obvious, so you aren't sure why he's trying to hide it.

"You're writing about me, aren't you Albert?", your hand holds your chin as your eyes crinkle a tad, "Planning a confession, dear? Or perhaps you're living out a fantasy you cannot fulfill"

He frowns, flustering at your words as he switches tabs to access your monitor. He knits his brows together as he hovers the mouse over the exit button on the screen, putting you behind the door of character select so that you can't see him write out exactly that. Even if Wesker can't see you, he knows you're laughing at him, finding it rather amusing as he brings his hands to his eyes, pushing them under his sun glasses to blush in shame. As much as he loves to hear you tease him and the sound of your voice is enough to make him so happy, he really does need to finish this.

"Seven minutes. Seven minutes and then I'll be able to play with you", he sighs, a groan heavy on his breath as he cracks his fingers.

The sooner he gets to work the sooner he can make you take damage for interrupting him, in his own way of punishing you. Were you trying to make him angry? Not that he could ever be mad at you... for long. As he gets back to writing paragraph after paragraph, he's satisfied with his length of five pages, although an idea comes to mind. Wesker shifts back to your game, and relinquishes you from your character select prison.

"Hello again dear, took you long enough-"

"Before we get started, could you... look over it... please?"

You raise a brow, having half the mind to scold him for interrupting you, but deciding against it. This is a first, given that you don't typically see him anyways when he's writing and most often he does not involve such writings in your conversations while in the game. Well... you suppose you could, given that it is about you, after all. He also happened to ask nicely, so there's that too.

"Fine. Show it to me", and he carefully scoots the monitor inwards for you to read.

You don't quite understand the context of what's going on given you're cutting into the story rather than starting at the beginning. Wesker waits with a straight face to hear what you think, hoping that it isn't so cringey that you refuse to talk to him for good after reading it. However as you motion for him to scroll on your behalf, you're amazed at how well he's able to understand you. It's as if you're right there yourself, talking with this 'why enn' character. In the chapter you seem to be infatuated with them, drawing your hand out to their face with intimacy. He's described how your hand feels, how you look at that person with a hunger to your gaze. Is it odd that you're beginning to blush yourself?

The pacing is fine, quick where it needs to be, but long on the details and information that matters and is enticing. Although the reader isn't someone whom you'd be so taken with if you're honest. They're not your type, but you don't voice that to him. When you reach the end of all five pages, he moves the monitor back to its original position so that you're facing him.

"Wh- What did you think?", he stammers, determined to get anything he might've done wrong right.

"That line where I depart just as the gnat", which was what you called his partner in the game, "came to save them... I wouldn't say that"

"I see, I'll change that immediately. Is there anything else?"

"You... you must really love me...", you let it tumble out, surprised at your own words before you frown at his face as it begins to change. Determination blossoms to barely contained excitement as Wesker nods, restraining a smile on his face as you wave him off.

"Whatever. Are you finally free now? I feel like I've been here for ages", you huff.

Love… really… such foolish emotions are beyond you. You’ve never loved anyone or anything in your life and you aren’t about to start now for some… boy! And yet… here you were, heart hammering out of embarrassment. It’s second hand you’re sure. You’d assume your programmed smirk when he typed something extra in his author notes. You’re able to decipher it through the backwards text appearing on the screen.

Sorry this chapter’s a little late. I had some help from a friend of mine’s. Please enjoy the sixth chapter!

The moment he toggles back to you, he notices you staring again.

“Is something wrong?”

“No- not at all”, you answer, loading into the level select as he gets ready to play as you.

[phonkscribes]

wesker complains about how's he protagonist shouldn't have won because readers way more powerful

I do this with wesker in re5 lol

Realistically speaking ( 🤓 ) there is no way that any Resident Evil protagonist should be getting out of their games alive, but people tend to underestimate one's determination to get out of shit situations alive.

Wesker would definitely be disappointed that the reader gets taken down by a couple of magazines and a rocket when they've been shown to have abilities and feats that could easily rip the protagonist to bits and pieces. It's to the point when the protagonist does something crazy that has him pause the game to take a moment to process and register just what it was that he saw with his own two eyes. Unbelievable... did he really just take down the ever powerful reader? With nothing more but guns and explosions? The final battle was satisfactory, don't get him wrong, but the end of the end was just... it didn't do you justice!

You're far too incredible to have such a lack luster end that it has him salty for weeks, if not months after his first initial playthrough of Evil Resident. Chris is getting annoyed, William is getting annoyed, Oswell especially cannot tolerate his constant rambling about how you should've prevailed. Of course, he finds his comfort in the secondary mode of the game where he can play as you fighting people online who chose to play as the protagonist. Because if the game does not want you to succeed, he shall fight for you, as you, as it should have been. It feels nice, you suppose, to have someone support you so openly and with such passion. It's alarming, considering the things he's seen you do and without a care for the world.

[phonkscribes]

write a fic where Wesker somehow (you don't even have to explain it I just want you to write it because I love your writing.) Gets stepped on lol

Can do, Anon :) !

Minors DNI.

It's the first time you're able to meet him in person, finally where he's no longer able to hide behind the vessel. Anger pools in your fiery irises as he looks up with shock across his features. Did he not expect this day to come? Did he not pray and wish for it every night, day after day when the world would reset and their progress came undone. Your hand finds his throat, feeling press flush against your blackened hand. The virus manifests through the epidermis of your skin, forming jagged teeth that start to sink into the pitiful mortal's neck. He can only make a choked noise, something short of a gasp and a moan.

"It hurts, doesn't it?", you coo, your lips twisting upwards into a big grin. "I finally have you, right where I want you"

You chuckle in that strained tone of yours, because as much as you want him to suffer for putting you through a never ending loop, he is weak and will break easy. He hasn't the herbs or sprays to heal himself, nor his infuriating little partner to get in your way to try and stop you. His hands circle around your wrist, looking into your eyes with something other than fear. You grimace. On his face, there is not that of dread, nor sadness. Behind those sun glasses, he's quite happy, nervously grinning from ear to ear as you hold him tightly. That's when you remembered the reason why he kept coming back through the vessel. It's always to see you, it's always been to see you.

Disgust infiltrates your mind as you toss him to the floor, watching as he falls onto his back, propping himself on his elbows as he struggles to find words to say. He hadn't ever thought that this day would come, should it come at all. How he was even here boggled his own bright mind, and quickly as he began to stammer did he realize how excited he'd become. He couldn't quite think, believing it to be a dream of sorts, but your hand on his body had been very real. The warmth of your claw around his throat was true, and so was the little droplets of blood that formed when you'd thrown him.

"It's your lucky day, worm", you regard him, turning your attention to his pitiful form on the ground when you notice the certain tent in his pants.

"I-... You don't mean to kill me do you?", it felt like such a foolish thing to ask, his face burning from embarrassment as he moves to sit up.

If he's going to face you, he's going to do so with dignity. Although, you quite preferred him the way he was before.

"And if I did? Would you beg me for your life?"

"I would thank you!", he blurts out.

Such devotion, such worship...

You can feel something in your chest throb, that smile of yours creeping across your face as you look down upon him. You chuckle, a hand coming to cover your face as it erupts into a fit of laughter. You throw your head back, your shoulders bouncing as you shake your head in your own disbelief. Good answer. Your heels click against the ground as you loom over him, the sole of your boot lifting and resting upon his chest before you send him back to the ground. He grunts from the force, nearly having the wind knocked out of him as he gasps in discomfort. As he tries to look up, you bring your foot down to his crotch.

He shivers at your touch, going silent as his gaze travels up your leg and then to your face. He's so happy he could cry, but to cry in front of you would be--

"Is this what you want?", you ask, grinding against his erection as you watch him.

"Wh- nn.. No- I--", You press your toe against him, folding your arms as you glare.

"Do not lie", you tease, stroking him with your foot.

He sucks in a breath through his mouth as his eyes fall back down to your heel, drawing delicious friction as he balls his hands up into fists at his sides. How pathetic... but it only makes you want torment him more. You want to see him cry, tears streaking down those pale cheeks made rosey from the shame of cumming just by touch alone. When you stop, he groans, as if in pain. Those sky blue eyes glance up at you with want as you tilt your head.

"If you don't want this, I'll kill you and be rid of you now. Don't waste my time", you growl, smile replaced with a stern scowl. After a moment, he responds.

"I... want... I want this", he pleads.

It's so delightful to hear, and you resume stepping on him, since he wanted this after all. Wesker loses himself to the feeling, panting as you massage his cock. It must hurt with how hard he is, knowing that it's straining against the fabric of his pants. You remove your foot, and tell him to free himself. Like an obedient dog, he unbuckles his belt and slides his pants down low enough to reveal his throbbing dick. A bead of pre sits at his tip as you muse to yourself. You lift your foot again, bringing it up to his face expectantly.

He begins to kiss it. Wesker's soft lips caress the leather of your sole, tears welling up in his eyes but he does not move to touch himself. You're quite surprised by how obedient he is, his will strong enough to not want to disappoint you or to have you chastise him. It's adorable, which is something you shall gladly take advantage of. Your heel finds itself back to his dick, stroking it a bit faster as you look into his eyes. He moans like such a little whore, and just from your foot alone. What noises might he make if it were your hands, or even your mouth?

If you keep up your pace like this, he'll cum. You can tell from the sound of his hoarse breathing as he starts to close his eyes, expecting that white release to overtake him. But you are cruel to deny it. Your foot falls back to the ground, resting as you stare with indifference. He opens his eyes to furrow his brows, as if he's been caught doing something wrong. He parts his mouth to ask, but you silence him with the quick raise of your hand.

"You're forgetting something dearheart", you smile, looking gentle as you loom over him.

"When you want something, you ought to use that pretty little mouth of yours. What is it that you want?"

So angelic is your voice to him, that he cannot be frustrated with him when you ask this of him. He knows the answer, but to beg for it again? Please, he'd never felt so pathetic before in his whole life. It was bad enough that he loved it. He loved the way you talked down to him, he loved how you had every opportunity to kill him as you'd done time and time again in your game. His cock ached so badly he might've cried out from the denial.

"[Y/N]... please... please let me cum", he whined, going to clutch at his shirt as he slowly rolled his hips. Just a little more. He needed just a little more.

Your laugh alone was nearly enough to do it, and he has to clench his jaw from becoming undone for a little longer. You spit on Wesker's cock, smearing it up and down his shaft with your boot as you get back to it. He whimpers, bucking his hips up and into you as he cries out. His moan catching in his throat as he growls, breathy as he throws his head back. His semen coats his stomach in white, ruining the blue button up he'd worn.

A bit of it gets on your shoe, but you could wipe that off on the ground. You watch as he brings his head back up, panting as his erection jumps with life. He's spent, but that shouldn't matter.

"Now that you've been satisfied, it's time for you to do something that satisfies me. I'll find something for you, yet", as his eyes fall close, the last thing he hears is your sinister chuckle loud against his ears.

When he wakes up, he's in his bed, alarm clock buzzing loudly with a moist sensation between his legs. He lays in a cold sweat, the annoying ringtone filling the morning silence as he cannot wait to spring to his desktop.

[phonkscribes]

IM WESKER, THEY NEED TO STEP ON ME TOO

There's plenty of boot to go around Anon

[phonkscribes]

can i see the OC esc version of the reader? I'd love to see your interpretation

-🦷

Tooth Anon I’m sorry that I’m so late to get to this. Here’s my interpretation, but also it’s kind of shit, sorry about that too haha

He’s supposed to be like bird-ish? Took inspo from crows + I thought it looked cool.