POV: What My PipBoy Sees

2:00 am

It’s been over an hour since the incident and there is an invisible heat that encompasses the prep room that you and Birkin have holed up in. Initially, you thought the humidity was from the decontamination shower, but not anymore.

“Pacing isn’t going to solve anything,” Birkin comments from the corner as he awkwardly shifts around. Looking at him, your pupils dilate before turning your head, trying to find something to pass the time, ignoring the ache between your legs. “Is it hot in here or is it me? Am I going crazy? Are you sweating too?”

“It’s not just you. Whatever that gas was, it must've been absorbed through our skin.” With a sigh, he stands up and walks past you to the lockers, rummaging before finding a laptop and plopping down onto the bench. “Let me see if I can log in and find out what it was.” With a nod, you sit down next to him, feeling a sudden change of electricity in the air. Watching Birkin try to hack into the computer appealed to you more than you thought it would. You suppose you never really realized it before, but he is handsome. Hell, you honestly think he could have quite the success with dating if he ever left his lab for more than 1 hour at a time.

“I’m in,” his blue eyes stare at the screen intensely, scrolling through various lab reports until coming across. “Experiment Ivy: a blue gas that penetrates biological tissue to release a…” his voice trails off as blush blooms under his pale cheeks.

“Releases a what?” You try to peek over his shoulder, but he slams the computer shut and shifts away from you.

“Nothing, releases nothing. We will just have to wait until morning.” His tone is resolute as he moves to the other side of the room, silently cursing himself.

3:30 am

The heat is now unbearable, as arousal pools in your panties, causing you to gasp every time you try to create a semblance of friction. You’re not an idiot. You wouldn’t be working - or rather, still working - for Birkin if you couldn’t hold your own in a conversation with the likes of him. Whatever was in that vial is an aphrodisiac, and it’s affecting you… badly. 

Looking over to your coworker, you take note of how he stares straight ahead, knees pulled to his chest and chin resting on top. If you’re in bad shape, you can’t imagine the pain he’s in. “Dr. Birkin?” He doesn’t respond. He hasn’t responded in the past 45 minutes, choosing to go mute instead of conversing. “The file. Did it say if there is anything to alleviate the symptoms?”

He doesn’t respond, just nods as your thighs press together. “What is it?”

“Sex.” It’s the only word he mutters, eyes not daring to look at you. Biting your lip in thought, your mind wraps around the solution. Would sex get rid of all of the symptoms immediately? Does it have to be intercourse or would masturbation provide an alternate solution? Would the gas still linger in your system even after intercourse and if so for how long? Stop, one at a time. 

“We could try masturbation. Maybe it will help alleviate the symptoms.” His head snaps towards you in shock before shaking his head, hair sticking to his forehead.

“No, this was made for breeding. Masturbation won’t work.” Silence falls over the two of you as you make up your mind. Standing up, you remove your shirt and pants before moving in front of him, much to his shock. “Put some clothes on! This is highly unethical!” Ignoring his words, you press down on his legs and slot yourself onto his lap, a small moan escaping your lips as you feel his hard bulge against your thigh. 

“Birkin, please. I’m in pain. You’re in pain. We have a solution. Isn’t it worth it to at least try?” You roll your hips as a test as he lets out a hiss, hands falling to your hips and gripping them in a vice, attempting to push you away. 

“No. We shouldn’t. We can’t.” He pants, eyes blown wide with lust as he looks up at you. He would never admit it. Not to you, not to Wesker, not to himself; but if he gives in now and has sex with you, he will never stop unless he’s dead.

Ignoring him anyways, your hands reach up and pinch at your nipples, a whine escaping your lips. “Please William, I need you to fuck me. I need your cock in me and to cum in me. Don’t stop cumming in me until I’m filled with your sperm.” You don’t know where the words are coming from, but all you can think about is that delicious cock in his pants and how it would make you feel. His eyes darken as the scent of your arousal hits his nose. He shouldn’t give in. He should push you off and try to call for someone again, but his cock is leaking in his pants and he needs to breed you. With an act of strength, he flips you around so that your back rests against the floor while his hands fly to his shirt, ripping it off while your hands tug at his pants, freeing his dripping cock. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Your hand reaches up and pulls him on top of you into a bruising kiss that is all teeth and lust with no romance. “I don’t care right now, I need your cock to fuck me.” He doesn’t comment further as one hand slips your underwear down while the other strokes his cock, smearing the precum down his shaft; though with how wet you are, neither of you think it would be hard to slip his dick in. 

Flipping you over onto all fours, his hand presses against your lower back as your ass presses into him, slick dripping down your thighs. “Just shove it in already,” Birkin lets out a huff of amusement as he guides his member between your folds, bottoming out in one thrust and the moan the two of you share is pornographic.

“Fuck you feel so good. So tight,” Birkin hisses, slapping your ass before grabbing handfuls as he thrusts harshly into you, balls slapping against your puffy folds while you whine. “Need to breed,” he falls on top of you, sweaty chest pressing against your sweaty back as he ruts into you. Whether it is the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of your velvety walls or the aphrodisiac a wave of pleasure washes over you as your release coats his dick. “Orgasmed already? I wonder how many more I can get out of you.” He doesn’t dare to stop, hand reaching around and wrapping around your throat. A display of dominance. “Look at your pretty pussy making a mess on my cock. So puffy and wet, swallowing my cock like the greedy whore you are. Such a pretty little thing,” before he knows it, he’s biting down on your shoulder as another orgasm rips through you, tears rolling down your face.

“Don’t stop William. Don’t stop fucking me,” the words are hard to make out between pants and moans but he got the gist. Pulling out of you, he ignores your whines of protest as he flips you over and throws your legs over his shoulders before plunging back in with an animalistic grunt. His hips rapidly snap against yours as the angle he chose penetrates you deeper, causing stars to appear in the sky. “Fuck, right there, just like that.” The whole room reeks of sex as Birkin uses his weight to drive his hips into yours.

“Gonna fill you with my cum and you’re going to take it. I’m not going to stop filling your womb until you give me a kid and another and another until we’re both dead. Your pretty pussy is mine now,” his hips thrust erratically before he moans, his hot cum shooting deep into you and providing a gradual relief from the scorching heat. 

Collecting your breath, you smile up at Birkin, hands carding through his damp hair. “I think it worked.” 

“We should go again, you know, in case it didn’t work.” 

“I think so too. For science's sake.” The two of you let out a laugh as his cock grows hard again, unaware of the camera watching the two of you.

“Should we end the lockdown, doctor?” The first person asks, pen in hand as he jots down notes.

Against your better judgement, your hand reaches for the knob and turns it slowly, peering your head into the room, and wishing you hadn’t. In front of you lies a half naked Alfred with his leaking cock in his right hand and his phone in his left hand. Very much not asleep.

“Please let me cum, (Y/N),” he whines, hips rutting into his hand as he vigorously strokes himself, arousal pooling in your panties. Taking a step back your body weight betrays you against the faded wooden floors, alerting Alfred to your presence. “What the hell dude? Get out!” He throws a pillow at you and rushes to cover himself up. As much as you want to turn away and pretend that you didn’t just see your roommate of 1 year masturbating to you, an invisible force pulls you into the room. “Dude I said get out!” His eyes glimmer with embarrassment as his cheeks flush red.

Swallowing thickly, you perch yourself onto his bed as he tries to get away from you.

“Were you masturbating to a picture of me?” 

“No way dude, I would never do that. That would be seriously messed up!” Raising an eyebrow, you grab his phone and stare at the screen before showing him proof.

“Want to try that again?”

“Ok fine, yeah I was. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Can you please leave now?” He snatches his phone back from you and turns it off, trying to avoid your gaze which becomes impossible as you lift your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Would you like help?” Leaning in, you slot yourself between his legs, the tv creating a halo around your body and Alfred pinches himself as if he thought he was dreaming. “This isn’t a dream. I think we’ve tiptoed around our feelings for each other enough. So would you like some help?”

Alfred gulps, blue eyes staring into yours as his cock twitches. How many times has he fantasized about this happening and how did he manage to manifest it into reality? Pulling the blanket down, he exposes his leaking cock to you, eyes looking anywhere but you, embarrassment flooding his entire body. “Just be gentle.” Huh, thought he would be more assertive, you think to yourself as your hand tentatively wraps around his cock, causing him to let out a hiss. Testing the waters, your hand slowly moves up and down his length, collecting precum to lubricate his shaft. “How many times have you thought about me while touching yourself?”

Alfred’s hips thrust into your hand as he whimpers, your hand feeling better than he could ever imagine. “Too many times.” He’s embarrassed to admit it, but what has he got to lose?

Humming in thought, you move to sit by his side, your hand keeping a steady pace around his cock. “What are you thinking about when you’re touching yourself?”

Your thumb grazes over the head of his cock, teasing the entrance, causing him to let out a long moan, his chest heaving with each breath. “You under me, me coming inside of you, you riding my lap while I’m in a meeting with everyone watching,” he pauses to moan as his blue eyes fix onto yours, “please let me cum. I need to cum so bad.” His whines turn you on more than you thought they would as your strokes increase their tempo.

“Cum for me, Alfred. Be a good boy and cum all over my hand,” he cums with a deep groan, ropes of cum spurting out and landing on your hand as you coax him through his orgasm. “That’s it. Such a good boy,” you whisper against his ear, your lips brushing the shell sending chills down his spine as his breathing returns to normal.

Reaching for a dirty shirt on the floor, Alfred hands it to you with a timid smile as you wipe your hands with it. “So…uh.. thanks.”

Smiling down at him, you place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome, now I am going to go take care of myself,” you stand up from the bed, heading toward the door as his eyes train onto your body, “if you want to help, you’re more than welcome to.”

Hopping out of his bed, he doesn’t bother to put on pants as he follows you into your room. “You bet your ass I do.”

==============

Nic stood over his kneeling body, parts of his power armor torn and covered in blood. His helmet was in Deacon’s lap, it was the only thing the spy could bear to do as harm to him.

“Is this how we end?” The spy mumbled, “I didn’t think you would fall this easily, honey,” he hissed like a snake.

It wasn’t like Nic wanted it to end like this, he didn’t even want it to end. The past few months with Deacon were the best of his life. Somehow he had seen them getting married one day, abandoning all duties, maybe living in a cabin across the mountains. But dreams are just dreams, lessons reverberated in his head, dreams were just dreams.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his fists held tight to his hammer, with a grip about to slip from the blood that coated it.

“Then don’t. Why is that so hard for you?”

“You cannot understand-.” A cough interrupted him.

“I did and I do, I trusted you, goddammit. Was I just a part of a mission? You spied on the spy? So fucking funny.”

“What we have is real. I cannot forget it,” for the first time since he was an infant, a tear dropped from his eye. “You mean so much to me.”

“You mean jack shit now, Roach,” Deacon turned his head up. His glasses were gone, left over his thigh, cracked. He only had them off in moments of vulnerability, such as now. “Kill me. You love the Brotherhood so fucking much, more than me, then kill me!”

“My love-“

Deacon laughed at a name that used to bring him peace, “forget that. God… god I hate you.”

“No, you do not. Neither do I hate you,” Nic grit his teeth, lowering his hammer to his waist.

“Stop lying to me!” He spewed a yell that raptured his lungs, “if you loved me, you wouldn’t do something like this.” His eyes watered more, with tears that hurt to produce. They shined with a thousand pleads for life.

Only Nic could decipher those begs. They cracked his heart into halves.

“Do not beg any longer, for it is pointless. As long as I live, you will live.”

Walls collapsed, releasing Deacon’s true feelings, “...I-I love you. But I’m not going to ever date you again.”

Nic cupped his cheek to give him one final kiss. He poured every last bit of love he had for the man into it. Physically and mentally he felt him reciprocate, filled with the same devotion. Pulling away, Nic sighed, “if that is how it ends.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆