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Warning: NSFW 18+, p in v sex, dirty talk, sex pollen (so kinda dub con), biting, breeding, creampie/unprotected sex
12:40 am
“Remember, be careful when moving the box. We don’t know what’s in these vials and I do not want to find out,” Birkin warns from in front of you, covered in PPE from head to toe and not happy about it. Normally, he would have just had someone from shipping transport boxes but with it being well past normal operating hours it’s up to him and his poor lab assistant, which so happens to be you. With a nod, you and him crouch down and place positioned hands onto the box. “On three; one, two, three,” the two of you manage to lift the box from the floor with minor difficulty as Birkin nods. “Ok, we’ll just move slo-” but luck isn’t Birkin’s middle name and before you can warn him about the table behind him his hip accidentally juts into it, vials in the rack shaking as one falls to the floor in seemingly slow motion. The glass shatters against the floor, releasing shards and a blue gas into the air.
“Freeze, do not move.” Birkin commands as the two of you watch the gas disperse into the air, disappearing before your eyes. “Ok,” his voice is shaky, “let’s set the box down gently and go on lockdown.” Nodding your head, you set the box down as Birkin reaches for the lockdown lever, alarms sounding as the doors lock around you.
“Dr. Birkin?” His eyes meet yours and he can tell there is fear behind them. He would be blaming you for being reckless, but it was his own body that did the very thing he instructed you not to do. Cursing himself, he looks down at his PPE. He should’ve known better and went BSL 4 PPE, but how was he supposed to know that the East Lab was going to have gaseous samples?
“It’ll be okay, hopefully our respirators will protect us from whatever that is. Let’s call security and then get into the decontamination showers.”
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.
“No, let them have their fun. This was a great starting point.”
It’s late by the time you come home from your job, most of the lights in the apartment are turned off save for the reflection of the tv coming from your roommates room. Glancing down at your watch you cringe at the time. 1:30 am. Alfred probably fell asleep with the TV on. Chuckling to yourself, the key turns in the doorknob quietly, letting yourself into your shared apartment.
Setting your bag down on the counter, you take off your shoes and grab a bottle of water from the fridge before stalking down the hall, trying to be quiet, when you hear a voice call out to you.
Thinking nothing of it, you continue down the hallway until another noise accompanies the first noise. Curiosity getting the better of you, you stand outside the door to Alfred’s room, trying to listen in. Broken moans and choked out variations of your name cause blood to pool under the skin of your cheeks. Is he having a wet dream? Of me? The thought of him dreaming of you causes your legs to go weak in the knees. As you turn on your heel an especially loud moan grabs you back. There’s no way he’s asleep.
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.”
I have this thing where if I'm really REALLY sleepy/tired then I pretty much act drunk without even being able to control it.
Could you imagine how confusing that would be for the companions, they're walking from one settlement to another and suddenly Sole starts slurring her words and can't walk in a straight line.
They couldn't understand how she got drunk because they finished all their alcohol three days ago.
They try to ask her, but she can't even begin to explain because she's laughing at some random settler tipping the brahmin over
I feel like the companions reactions vary greatly.
Hancock, MacCready and Cait kind of assume that you took something (like a drug) or even a fermented fruit
Piper, Deacon, Curie and Nick try to get you to sit down for a minute to try and figure out the next best course of action. Often times, it includes keeping you on a really short leash so you don't accidentally wander off.
Danse will take you back to the Prydwen and X6-88 will take you back to the Institute.
Preston and Porter Gage are kind of difficult for me to decide on what they would do. I think they would both get irritated at your behavior, especially since you are representing their respective people and they don't want their leader chosen by them to look like a drunk. So they would probably drag you to a place and lay low until you come back to your senses.
The companions eventually have enough of babysitting you so they ask Codsworth what is going on and Codsworth, who has been with you before the war, knows exactly what is going on. Most of them think that the reason is silly while the others will take it into consideration the next time they travel with you.
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Idk why but I feel like Hancock and Maccready, (especially Hancock) would be shorter than the sole survivor/reader, (even of SS/R is female)
And there's so much fun stuff that can come of that, like constantly teasing Maccready for it and trying to tease Hancock but he's completely accepting of being short.
Like he's the king of the zombies AND a short king??? How many obscure titles does this man have??
(Idk I'm just brainrotted, I love those two and shoet men so I'm just kinda fereal rn. Always love your work!!)
HI HI. I was logged out of my account for the LONGEST so I didn't get this. ANYWAYS here is my two cents:
As much as I personally hc Mac being at least 5'10 (my own personal preference haha) he does give short guy energy. Like based on his history of growing up in a cave living off of brain fungus, his growth was definitely stunted so he probably stand at around 5'6 or 5'7 (with boots on). I also think that if he was short, it would be both his greatest insecurity and his greatest asset.
Greatest insecurity in the way that everyone around him towers over him and he feels threatened by that (which is why he prefers the high ground). If you choose to romance him, this insecurity would really come out if you chose to go on a quest with someone taller and larger than him (like Nick or Danse or Deacon).
Greatest asset in the way that he can get to hard to reach spaces. Sure, he doesn't have the height to reach for the top shelf, but with his smaller frame he can fit into tighter and smaller spaces, including better look out points.
If you do tease him about his height, or if any other companions tease him about his height, he gets pretty reclusive and even more short tempered than he already is. After a night of heavy drinking, he confessed to you about his insecurity. After that, you don't really tease him and you try to stop others (deacon) from teasing him as well.
For Hancock, you are absolutely right. He IS a short king and he knows how to use it. People typically have the habit of underestimating Hancock, until they learn the hard way.
I like to think that people will assume that Hancock is compensating for his short height by being strapped with some heavy fire power (I give him my heavy hitting weapons) but in reality, he loves the way the weapon recoils his whole body.
Hancock definitely isn't concerned about his stature, his charisma more than makes up for it, and he gets around. Those missing inches are stored somewhere else.
I'm going to do three a week(maybe four, week two is giving me 5), and here is what I have planned so far! Let me know if there is anything/anyone you guys would like to see!
Prompt taken from @kinktober-2025
Week 1:
Masturbation (Oct 1) - Alfred F Jones
Dacryphilia (Oct 5) - William Birkin (I WANNA MAKE HIM CRYYYYY)
Bloodplay (Oct 7) - Demetri Volturi
Week 2:
Punishment (Oct 10) - Albert Wesker
Kneeling (Oct 12) - Rick Grimes
Dom Bottom/Sub Top (Oct 13) - Albert Wesker
Week 3:
Sex Pollen (Oct 15) - William Birkin
Messy Sex (Oct 17) - RJ MacCready
Week 4:
Quiet Sex (Oct 22) - Ernest Lawrence
Lingerie (Oct 26) - Deacon
Multiple orgasms/Needle Play (Oct 28) - Albert Wesker
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AU i just made up today, where nic grows up as a brotherhood soldier instead of gunner. im sorry!!
PS. title is latin for “to hand over.” thought that was cute
word count: 530
。゚☁︎。 ☀︎ 。゚☁︎
Just yesterday was life paradise. Deacon was in Nic’s arms, on the verge of falling asleep, with a pleasant tingle he felt only with his lover. Today that tingle was gone. In its place was a tremble, one that knew it would soon never shake again.
Everywhere around Deacon were corpses of his closest comrades, their blood, their documents not to be seen by anyone. Especially not a Brotherhood soldier, like Nic. There was a reason he had never told anyone about the affair: both of them would lose their jobs, friends, likely everything. Nevertheless, Deacon lost everything.
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.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆
how come i only write deanic in AUs where everything ends badly for them… whatever! once again, thank u to @wassertoffatom for this idea. but now i rlly need to get back to imagining them happy before i cry
I feel like modern maccready would make his living as a twitch streamer or something. Like you can not tell me that he wouldn’t be a beast as first person shooter games.
Kinda wanna post a modern AU (coffee shop bc I love that shit) where OC?? sole is a Nepo baby but is successful on her own and she goes to a coffee shop where she meets MacCready, a down on his luck dad who is working two jobs tying to provide winter clothing/Christmas stuff for Duncan and OC?? Either makes it her “project” to help him out and falls in love in progress or just genuinely takes an interest in the grumpy, snarky barista.
Anywho, I plan on fleshing it out in biochem bc I fr don’t do crap in that class but hypothetically would anyone be interested? Idk if I’ll post on here but I will def post on AO3
Interested?
Yes
Not rlly my cup of tea (ha see what I did there..coffee shop au….)
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Fluff/WhumpTOBER Day 21: Deacon x F!SoSu x RJ MacCready
Day 21: Bonfire/Body Horror
Masterlist
Warnings: 16+, implications of role-play/intercourse
Word Count: 351
The wind wisps away into the night, sending a breeze across the Commonwealth. It would be cold if there wasn’t a campfire two feet in front of your body, burning strong as a result of tender attention. The warmth and security allows you to sleep soundly, without a care in the world.
“Pfft. No way, man. You’re totally lying.” A voice, loud, causes your eyes to open.
“Shh, keep your voice down. You’ll wake her up.” Silence falls over the camp and you feel two pairs of eyes on you, checking to make sure that you’re still asleep before returning to their conversation. “Anyways. No I am not lying. She is totally into role play. She even asked me to sign her Cooper Howard doll. The wig definitely did her in,” a second, quieter voice comments, and you can hear the grin on his face. Deciding to keep still, you continue to listen to your companions’ conversation.
“I didn’t think boss would be into the Cooper Howard roleplay.”
“You best believe it, she goes crazy for that southern drawl,” Deacon comments in a hushed, mock Southern tone as you roll your eyes. Of course he’s spinning what really happened. Yes, you happened to have a crush on Cooper Howard, but no, you did not have Deacon cosplay him, let alone sign your doll.
“So, are you guys,” MacCready hesitates and you can imagine that he’s looking down at his bandolier, fingers running over the bullets from a habit he picked up years ago. “Are you guys together?” Freezing in your sleeping back, the tension at the campfire is thick and you’re surprised that Deacon doesn’t automatically jump at the shot to expose your physical relationship with him.
“I’m honestly not sure. We haven’t labeled anything, but I know she has feelings for me.”
“Oh. Cool. That’s totally cool,” MacCready comments with a dejected tone.
“Chin up Creedster, she has feelings for you too.” Oh the nerve of Deacon…
“I love the both of you, now shut up so I can go back to sleep.” Not another word was spoken that night.