⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 exclusively for the depraved.

tonight was supposed to be fun, enjoyable. sure, it wasn't anywhere fancy. but your schedules freeing up at the same time was a luxury enough. so staying in plus all your favourite food and snacks sufficed for the both of you. and, besides. it was you that krauser was there for, not dessert or the movie. it was all about you and him and nothing else—clearly, your phone going off every five minutes didn't get the memo. you were kind enough to not check your texts in front of him, but krauser knew if he excused himself to the restroom you'd busy yourself with reading your messages. 

and he was right. 

cerulean gaze eyed over your seated frame, head hung low as your phone's soft light gently illuminated your features. his brows furrow. 

"jack, i'm sorry. wesker wants me to sort out some new intel on los illuminados,"

scoff.

"what, seriously? all you do is work. you deserve some time off,"

"yeah, but wesker needs those organized files asap . . "

–

"wesker this, wesker that. fuck, shut the fuck up."

he’s mean, angry—projecting it into the equally harsh and cruel pumps of his fingers. all your protests are muffled into his palm, unspoken, but definitely heard. tear-coated eyes are trained on his knuckles, covered in your cream and continuing to leak more with every slide in. there wasn't much you could do but hold onto his forearm as your cunt leaked from the rough thrusts of his thick digits, not much you could do but take it. 

it's no mistake that his palm keeps brushing over your clit, that his fingerpads kept grazing on the deepest, most erogenous parts of you. he wanted to coax out these pathetic whimpers from you, make your knees and legs buckle 'til you had no strength to lift your mass up, 'til you were stupid from the overwhelming pleasure. oh, how he reveled in your depravity. he didn't need words to know you enjoyed being helpless beneath him. your cunt did aaaall the talking, squelching with every curl, with every pump.

"i'm fed up. fuckin' fed up with your games." he scowled, unable to control the sneer that contorts his scarred mien. you could feel the butterflies in your tummy, an orgasm quickly creeping up on you. he's akin to a heartless beast, anger manfesting so viscerally . . it made you shudder.  "thinkin' y'can do anything without any consequences, huh?" you were jus' about to let your lids flutter shut, but krauser quickly interrupts when he lightly slaps your cheek with his spit-coated palm. 

"no, no. don't you dare look away, slut. look at me. who's making you feel good, huh?" you shrieked when he buried his digits knuckles deep in you, deep enough that his thumb could jus' easily reach and circle over your needy clit. "y, you are!" you sobbed, lips glossy with your own saliva. 

"who?" 

oh he was evil, purposefully ramming his fingers as mercilessly as he could so you'd stumble and stammer on your words. of course, it worked like a charm. there was little to no coherence in your words. krauser was satisfied, a mischievous grin tugging on the edges of his scarred lips. "j, jaackk—you are, y, youu . . h, haaaah . . ♡!" 

you writhed and squirmed beneath him, hips bucking subconsciously as you chase that peak. krauser's not new to your body language, your body. he knows it better, better than anyone; he knows just when to pull out his fingers and deprive you of that bliss. it's cute how you try 'n hump the air, whining like a brat when you deserve to be punished like this. 

"n, nooo . . " "doesn't feel good, does it?" he cooed, thumb caressing your cheek. you sniffled. "do you think bad girls like you should cum? do you even deserve it?" a thumb's circling over your throbbing clit, slow enough to give you pleasure but not an orgasm. "yes, y, yes, i des, deserve—deserve it!" poor little thing, krauser's done nothing but laugh at your face, mocking your stuttering. "deserve it? after cancelling on me again and again, choosing him over me . . " you hear the loud slap! and the pain comes right after, makin' that pretty cunt twitch as he slapped it again. 

"do you think he can make you wet like i do, sweets? i just slapped your pussy, and jus' . . " your cheeks are heating up with embarrassment as he began to spread your cunt—hole bare for him to see as it twitched and leaked with your juices. "j, jack ple—," "look at that. you're so fucking wet." if you were good,  he would have given it a kiss—lapped up your clit 'til you were brimming with overstimulation. but you just had to piss him off today, didn't you?

"you wanna cum? y'gotta earn it, sweetheart."

you swallow nervously.

⟡ 

"grrrlk—!"

"fuck, oh my god baby . . you're . . hnngggg—drooling everywhere,"

you were trying to not cry as he buried his cock deep in your throat. it's cute how you're blinking up at him, attempting to keep your tears from streaming; but it's impossible because he's fucking pushing your head down, nose tickled by golden tufts. breathing was a luxury in an arm's reach—but krauser wasn't granting it. "y'wanna breathe?" the noise that fills the air is nothing but gibberish. to krauser, it's fucking music to his ears. "what was that?" nod. he hisses when he feels your throat convulse around his girth.

y'were so pretty, lookin' up at him with lidded eyes 'nd seeing you frantically tap on his leg . . gorgeous, gorgeous girl. under his mercy. his. you take a lungful, soothing that ache to breathe. without beads of tears to blur your sight, you get to see him properly; buff body covered by a thin layer of sweat, hair disheveled under his palm, pupils dilated as he adored your pretty spit-riddled face. 

"there y'goo, breathe, baby," he cooed, lightly tapping on your cheek. "who owns you?" "y, you do . . " you mumble weakly. he could only grin, sitting up so he'd be closer to you. "atta girl. tongue out," he earns himself a groan from you as rough, calloused fingers snare your jaw—but you oblige anyway, tongue lulling out like a good little girl. without hesitation, krauser spits into your mouth. the butterflies in your stomach flutter without delay. you swallowed. it was almost automatic, and god, did that make krauser's cock twitch. jus' like you, he had his own needs. you knew what to do the second he laid back down.

plump lips nicely wrap around his pink tip, tongue running over the protruding vein that ran down the underside of his shaft. krauser hisses through gritted canines, eyes daring to roll back. "fuuuuck, jesus. your mouth's s, so fucking—," his words are caught in his throat, robbed by your hollowed cheeks. you looked so cockdrunk, not a single thought behind your pretty, teary eyes.

it made krauser so feral. 

you only process the heat of krauser's palms on the sides of your head, fingers entangling themselves with your already tousled hair, and then—

"hrggkk—!"

his cock's bulging from your throat, nose back to brushing against his golden curls. taking initiative, krauser starts his brutal thrusts, facefucking you as deep 'nd hard as he could. saliva keeps leaking from the sides of your mouth with every reflexive spasm of your throat. "this fucking mouth—," his hips jerk upward, fueled solely by instinct. "is mine. mine—," he growled, jealousy bleeding through his thrusts. tears just can't help but stream down your cheeks, just like how you couldn't help your cunt from twitching in need. 

every harsh shove makes you dizzier and dizzier, nicely fucking out any rational thought out of that pretty head. don't worry, pretty girls like you didn't need to think. "gonna cum in your throat, fuck!" krauser whined. how couldn't he? your mouth was so warm, you looked so, so, so beautiful all sloppy and covered in your spit, oh my— "gooood, fuck—," he's just as out of breath as you are, not even realizing the drool that's dripping down his neck. he's too immersed in you—quite literally—to even care. 

another push into your throat, and he breaks. the noise he made was raw, guttural, spilling without restraint as his hips automatically buck into you. you feel the pulsating of his cock, and then the warmth that shoots down your throat; thick spurts of his semen filling your mouth 'til it was spilling from your lips. 

your reddening, watery eyes are wide once you realize he was holding your head down, forcing you to take it all while he gives you a nasty throatpie. you gag, throat convulsing, but krauser doesn't even budge, only chuckling. "thaat's it, fuuuck . .  swallow all of it. god, fuck . . " 

before darkness could completely cloud your vision, krauser slowly lets his semi-soft cock slide out from your lips. it's covered in your spit—you're covered in your spit, and krauser adores your fucked out face. and he was just gettin' started. what would you look like if he finally stretched out that pussy? 

tugging your arm with his crushing vice, you find yourself on all fours; fingers clutching on your soft pillows while you raise your hips for him. you shuddered when he kneads your ass, spreading them apart and toying with your holes with his spare hand. "look at you. dripping from sucking cock?" krauser whispered, in awe at how pretty your cunt twitched 'round nothing.

you squeaked when you feel his cockhead slap against your folds, and from the sound alone; you could hear just how soaked you were. even more sinful is the first inch, your folds slickly spreading, the squelch loud and shameless. "fuck, you're so—," krauser's eyes roll, scarred mouth falling agape as he continued to stretch you out inch after inch. it was unbearable—the intrusion—but still, he isn’t all the way in. 

his grip on your hips tighten, and without another warning, krauser bottoms out in your quivering, dripping cunt. you're fucking dumbfounded, whimpering and collapsing while your knees buckle beneath you. a calloused palm lands on your rear, and a squeal—your squeal—follows suit. "y'better not be passin' out on me, y/n," he'd growl, pulling out jus's so he could slam back into you. 

"we're just—shit! gettin' started,"

nothing's gonna stop krauser now, not even himself. your ass collides with his pelvis as he begins to pound you. it's brutal and definitely mind-shattering. "a, aaah—jack!" you whimpered, wrapping your arms around a pillow. "he could never fuck you like i can," with possessiveness unleashed, krauser's twice as mean, twice as cruel now. filled with nothing but the urge to mark you with teeth and to breed; maybe if he got you pregnant, wesker would finally leave you alone. a hand nestles 'neath your lower belly, palming the bulge that poked through your skin. he was— 

"s, so deep . .  h, haaaah . .  you're g, gonna break me!" 

"good."

he starts to rut into you harder, faster—trying to stay as deep as he can. your words have successfully melted into whimpers, eyes rolling to the back of your head while he wrecked your fucking insides. "you feel this, huh?" pressure sinks under his fingertips, digging into the soft flesh of your tummy. you sobbed, completely overwhelmed with bliss. the added sensation from his fingertips make you fucking whimper. your body quake with tremendous pleasure. 

you’re under his mercy. helpless. all you could do was moan and wail while his cock nicely kissed your cervix over and over and over again. "i own you. you're mine. fucking mine," the warmth of his chest meets your back, caging you completely; your skin—ear—is within his tongue's reach. and he doesn't hesitate, dragging it up the edges of sensitive auricle. "i love you, i love you . . you're mine. fucking mine," it's like he was in this . . trance. he jus' can't stop pounding you. can't stop snapping those hips and making you wail for him. "i love you—jack, love you, love y, you! only you!" 

well, one could only say the same for you, too. 

his balls twitch, throbbing with the need to cum in you and get that womb knocked up. the hand caressing the bulge from your tummy retires, and even then, you can still feel him stretching you so deep. "wanna break you—need you fuckin' cockdrunk on this dick, baby," vulgarity 'n spit drips from his tongue, down your jaw when he began leaving open-mouthed ( tongue kisses, basically. ) on your cheek.  

a harsh slam of his hips buries his cock completely deep, pressed uncomfortably against that tender barrier of your cervix. "i'm not all the way in yet, baby . . " he cooed, scarred lips parting to taste the sweat 'n taste of your skin. "jack, i'm s, so—," your words dissolve on your tongue when the both sides of your hips are secured in his vice, almost immediately followed by circling rolls of his hips.  "so what, princess? use your words . . . " he absent-mindedly says, brows furrowed together. he's a little too occupied right now . . .

"s, so sensi—♡!?" 

"oooooh fuck,"

with a tug on your hips, he finally buries himself balls-deep, cock bullying past every twitching inch of your cunt and into your cervix. your love-filled eyes are wide, doe-like. krauser doesn't get the full-view of it, but you're fucking babbling, sobbing. he doesn't need to see how dumb you looked right now. fuck, he just wants to breed you. "yeaaah, baby. you feel that? huh?" krauser mutters against your cheek. "don't pass out on me now, sweets. 'm not yet done," 

him dragging his hips back is your undoing—whole body quaking as you squirt pathetically at the sensation. you can barely register his laughing, because this bastard's pounding you again; making sure that every slam of his hips rocks your whole fucking being. you only scream his name, his pillows crumpled in your fist. "you're mine—right?" stupid boss. stupid job. y’don’t gotta go to work. you only need him. you nod. but that's all you could do, to nod. too stupid to crawl away, or even utter a legible word. 

thick digits find your jaw, tilting up along with your lust-clouded haze. krauser doesn't hesitate—will never hesitate—to crash his lips into yours into a fiery kiss; abundant of tongue and spit. all your noises are hushed by his scarred lips, leaving only the sounds of skin-to-skin collision and springs supporting both your frames to reverberate in the room. 

you don't notice it—not when his tongue's busy invading your warm mouth—but his thrusts have gotten erratic and have lost its cadence. you moan the same, feel the same, cunt clenching around him the same whilst he clumsily slammed into your messy cunt. one last snap of his hips, and he's fucking cumming. "fuck, fuck!" he sobbed after breaking away from your liplock. he's shuddering, whimpering, forcing himself as deep as he could whilst thick semen floods your walls, your womb. he's spent, eyes rolled back to his sockets while he chases that addictive high with shallow thrusts. 

"take it. fucking take it. y, yeaaaah—that's it. good fucking girl. 'm gonna get this cunt knocked up," you groaned as krauser practically rests his whole body weight on you, your pussy impeccably stuffed and stretched to the brim. "j, jack," there's really no point in squirming. what're you gonna do, push him off? to make matters betterworse, krauser sneaks a palm under you, cupping that bulge 'n giving it firm squeezes. 

you hadn't realized you passed out until you woke up. there's no weight on your body except for a muscular arm, protectively holding you from behind. "jack?" "i'm here," a reassuring kiss is placed on your temple, on your cheek. "hi, baby. you passed out." "i did?" "mhhm." jack buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your natural and highly intoxicating smell. 

"i don't wanna go to work . . "

krauser tries to hide his grin.

"it's okay, sweetheart. i took care of wesker."

CALL WITH MR. WESKER ENDED — 2:59:03

end.

DEDICATED TO: @gremlinfuck