Albert Wesker

────୨ৎ──── You had an… interesting relationship with your father. You weren’t the type to say you had daddy issues… but you did. Yelling, screaming, beatings, bruises, cuts, that's all you can remember. You assumed that explained why you always sought out validation from men. Particularly older men. You were always doing the most you could to please your male superiors. Especially Albert. If he said jump, you asked how high. If he said run, you asked how far. And if he asked you to suck him off in his quarters (even though that was completely against rules and an abuse of power) you would. Anything to please your daddy, right? You knew in the back of your head it was wrong. He was taking advantage of you. You were young and easy to manipulate, barely old enough to drink. Meanwhile, he was a 49-year-old Tricell researcher with a extreme misanthrope ideas. The power imbalance was clear as day. But when he called you a good girl at the end of the day, it was all worth it. Now here you were in his quarters. He was holding your hair in his fist as you took him in your mouth. You’d been at it for about 10 minutes now. His head was tilted back and he was grunting and moaning. That’s it, keep going, love. He rasped out, holding your hair tighter. You knew he didn’t care about you. He was using you, completely and totally. Taking advantage of your daddy issues, his rank over you, and your significantly younger age. All he needed to do was whisper a few sweet nothings and a bit of praise and reassurance and you would follow his every command.