in which you find a new purpose in the eleventh division.
contains smut, mdni. word count: 1.4k
If there was one thing the Eleventh Division Captain did not need, it was endurance training. However, that was his excuse when he began to demand extra sparring sessions with you.
You'd managed to largely avoid your bullish captain thus far, diluting your skills in his presence, keeping your head down and your spiritual pressure low. But that all changed when Ikkaku goaded you into joining a tournament — on a day where Kenpachi was supposed to be entangled in Captain duties. You took it as a chance to finally let loose, releasing some of that pent-up spiritual pressure that had been clogging your senses ever since you'd been unwillingly reassigned to such a bloodthirsty bunch.
Sure, you had a temper. Sure, you loved to fight. But you didn't want it to be your entire life. You missed the sterility of the labs in the twelfth division — the quiet, subtle displays of power that required precision and focus.
But when Captain Kurotsuchi ran you through his yearly exams and deduced that you were no longer suited for research, observing 'alarming' fluctuations in your Reiatsu that deemed you too 'unstable' to work in his precious facilities, he transferred you to completely opposite environs and left you to the wolves.
The tournament you currently found yourself in was purely physical combat, with no use of Shikai, and brutal. Originally you planned to lose in the first round and retire early, but something about your opponent was deliciously … weak. Surely one more fight couldn't hurt.
Well, that was twelve matches ago. Now you were facing off against Ikkaku, sweat dripping down your brow, wanting to crush his stupid, bald head in for making you do this in the first place. You'd both been going at it for over an hour — evenly matched — and unless one of you broke the tournament rules and pulled out something more complex than brute strength, this would end up being a grueling duel of endurance, which both of you possessed in abundance.
Kenpachi appeared about halfway through your face-off with his third seat. He concealed his presence as he observed the battle hungrily, watching you — whose name he'd never even bothered to learn — match Ikkaku blow for blow. Something about the bloodlust in your expression demanded his attention, and he wanted to test just how far Squad Eleven's new underdog could go.
So, he began to invite you to private sparring sessions. It wasn't unusual — the higher seats fought The Captain at every chance they could get — but unlike them, you did not go with the intent to peacock your skills, eager to gain his elusive praise.
You simply wanted to piss him off.
Losing immediately would be suicide, as Kenpachi was not a Captain who took kindly to weakness. So, your best bet to remove yourself from his radar was to make your fights so utterly boring that he forgot your name and moved onto his next victim. You took an exclusively defensive stance while fighting him, dodging his blows without attempting to retaliate.
He seemed to enjoy the first fight. A surprise — but maybe it was because he wasn't used to such a … passive style.
And then, to everyone's surprise, his initial delight did not fade during the second fight, or even the third. You became a part of his standard rotation, much to your chagrin — and much to your squad's confusion.
The weirdest session of all — and the session that changed everything — was when Kenpachi tore his eyepatch off mid-match.
You were breathing heavily, bleeding from a laceration on your cheek, lip swollen from contact. The chatter from onlookers came to an abrupt halt as The Captain's spiritual pressure exponentiated, expelling the air from everyone's lungs, yours included.
"I—I don't think I'm a worthy opponent for such measures," you argued, dodging another blow, brows drawn in confusion. "You haven't even broken a sweat."
Kenpachi licked his lips. His spiritual pressure flared further, catching you off guard — the perfect opportunity for him to tackle you to the ground. All it took was for him to plant one palm onto your chest and you were sufficiently pinned.
Then he … sniffed you.
"I wanna use both eyes," he murmured lowly, "so I can see y'r face when I finally give ya what ya want."
You squirmed beneath his hold, heart rate increasing, gaze widening at the implication of his words.
He didn't know, right? He couldn't.
A man like Kenpachi Zaraki would not notice the longing glances you cast in his direction when he wasn't chasing you with his sword. He wouldn't be able to tell the difference between your desire for blood and your desire for his flesh on yours.
Right?
"Ya gotta dumb expression on y'r face," he huffed, both eyes blinking down at you inquisitively. "Don't tell me ya went stupid."
He sniffed you again. You felt like a rabbit in a wolf's den, tilting your head back to see the upside-down, confused expressions of your squadmates as their Captain straddled you.
"Ya want me, even like this!" He barked — loud enough for everyone to hear. "I can smell it. Can't get enough of me, huh? Tryna to waste my day, playin' defense, just to get my attention. All ya had t'do was ask."
There was no asking Kenpachi for anything. You knew that. He knew that. Everyone knew that.
"Not many people can keep up with me, y'know." He ran a hand — the one not pinning you — beneath your robes, parting the layers of fabric, grasping for your slicked cunt. You heard whispers at the display; your cheeks reddened with shame … and something else. Something far too embarrassing to admit out loud.
What happened next was unceremonious, which didn't mean much, because nothing in Kenpachi's Eleventh Division ever was. He named you his Pleasure Lieutenant: a humiliating name for a humiliating position. And the worst part? It was worth it.
The first time he impaled you on his cock — that day, in front of the entire squad — was more than enough to break you into his eternal whore. He filled you so completely, whispered such filthy promises in your ear, claimed you as his so primally — that his actions could not be interpreted as an insult, but rather as a commitment.
Being his Pleasure Lieutenant did not exempt you from your normal duties, but it did mean that he could beckon you to his side whenever the need arose — which was often.
He would take you after sending someone to the Fourth Division for treatment, smearing his opponent's blood onto your hips as he snapped into you, heavy balls clapping against your thighs while he fucked you into the packed dirt of the training grounds. He let the others watch, but never touch. You were his Pleasure Lieutenant, after all — not theirs.
He would call for you in the evenings, requesting you bathe him with a gentler touch, and then have you ride him slowly — passionately — head buried into your breasts as he let you take control.
He would demand your mouth as he sat at his desk to do dreaded paperwork, pen in one hand and your hair in the other, pushing your face into his lap as you choked around his cock, throat tightening around it in filthy gulps and gags.
The Captain's stamina was unmatched, but just like your spars, you could handle him — as long as you weren't trying to defeat him. He fucked you day and night, sometimes selfishly, seeking a quick release … sometimes lovingly, focusing on your pleasure as he devoured your cunt and took you in deep, languid strokes … sometimes meanly, taking his frustrations out on you with no regard for your pride or dignity as he called you a 'set of holes' in front of the entire division — thumbing your ass, laughing at your squeals of discomfort, rutting into your sopping pussy like a dog in heat.
Soon, you forgot all about your past ambitions in the Twelfth Division. On particularly long days, you even forgot your name, brain fogged over by pleasure and overstimulation.
The only thing your brain could reliably retain was Kenpachi and your addiction to him: a good Pleasure Lieutenant, indeed.
masterlist
goofy ahhhh banner made by me :)
this is setting the scene for a series of pure filth one-shots i plan to do ft. KENNYYYY
story contains mature themes and eventual smut. mdni!
AO3 Link
Table of Contents
<- Chapter 5 Read Previous
Read Next -> coming soon!
cw: 18+ nsfw. sebastian goons. a lot. discussion of cnc kink, misogyny kink, degradation.
CH. 6 ﾒ BEAUTY NEEDS AN ANIMAL TO BREATHE
Sebastian makes use of his new subscription.
When Sebastian got home, he noticed that his mom's bedroom light was still visible from the hallway, golden and peeking out beneath the door. On a mission to eat a heaping bowl of cereal before he called it a night, he snuck to the kitchen as quietly as he could, avoiding the floorboards he knew were creaky enough to give him away.
He must have rolled a natural one for stealth, though, because a few minutes later, Robin slipped out of her room with a yawn. "Sebby?" She whispered, shuffling into the kitchen. He winced, mouth full of Joja-Choco Puffs, not needing a mirror to know what he must look like: red eyes, crumpled clothing, dopey expression…
Robin absorbed the scene before her, frowning. "Where were you tonight?"
"I'm an adult," he retorted, words muffled around his late night snack. "Does it matter?"
She spotted the pizza blanket thrown into the table, grass still sticking to it in some places. Her face hardened into something more serious. "Were you … on the island?" His chewing slowed as he avoided her gaze. She took a step closer, sighing heavily. "Honey…please don't tell me you were meeting with Gwen."
The genuine concern in her tone made him recoil. He didn't respond, instead focusing on a picture of Demetrius and Maru pinned to the fridge with a "ScienceCon Rocks!" magnet.
"Sebby that girl is bad news—"
"You always liked her," he snapped, "bragged to everyone about how she'd be your daughter-in-law some day."
"I didn't know what kind of girl she was then…and you kids were young—"
"What kind of girl is that?"
Robin worried her lip between her teeth, absorbing her son's rigid shoulders with unease.
"Don't pussy out now Mom, finish your thought…"
She shot him a warning glare at his language, jaw setting. "The kind of girl that would just … let my son die. And do not talk to me like that, Sebastian. You're acting like a teenager."
Sebastian sniffed, rubbing a hand over his face, as if to hide himself from his mother's judgment. "It's complicated … it's not that easy—"
"Maybe not." She reached out to him and grasped his shoulder, rubbing her thumb across it gently. "But her leaving did a number on you, and she showed no remorse. Never came to check on you, blocked everyone's attempts to contact her —"
"She had her reasons."
"That doesn't make it right, Sebastian."
Sebastian sipped some milk from his bowl broodingly. "I'm an adult," he reiterated his earlier statement, trying to shut down the conversation. "What I do with Gwen isn't your problem. I deserve some fuckin' privacy."
"It is my problem as long as you're under my roof." Robin wrung her hands together. "Are you still taking your—”
He cut her off with a sharp glare. Cereal largely uneaten, Sebastian dumped the bowl into the sink and brushed past his mom coldly, retreating to his room in a sullen silence.
ﾒﾒﾒﾒ
The next morning, Sebastian's mouth felt as if something had crawled into it, sucked up all moisture, and then died on his tongue. His clothes stuck to his body in uncomfortable places. He couldn't tell what time it was — never could, thanks to his lack of windows — and it took him forever to locate his phone as he slapped around the covers, checked under his pillows … turned out it had fallen onto the floor.
9:34
Not too bad, all things considered. The house should be quiet; Robin would be in the front, and hopefully Demetrius and Maru would be tucked into the lab. He grabbed some clothes and sluggishly went upstairs, successfully avoiding everyone as he brushed his teeth, showered, and grabbed some cereal to bring back to his room, locking the door behind him.
He ate. He watched last week's episode of Bleach. He checked his email and to-do list for work.
And then he remembered his pending request for Gwen's JuniFans account.
Sebastian gulped, opening a private browsing tab to type in the website link and use the log in he'd made the night prior.
username: fr0zent3ar
password: ?v0id3ggSash1Mi!
His heart jumped at the two notifications sitting in his queue, the first: a standard welcome message from the website. Boring. But the second…
xxvoidxx accepted your request to be best friends — click to expand.
According to the rules of the site, one of the perks of being 'best friends' as opposed to just 'friends' was a personalized welcome message. Sebastian wondered how much of it was actually personal, versus how much was a pre-written script.
When he opened it up — before he even began to explore her page — he learned that for him, at least, the message was handcrafted by Gwen Aces herself, blunt and cheeky and unapologetic.
Hello there fr0zent3ar,
The cat left the bag sooner than I wanted it to … but welcome, I guess.
Please enjoy this embarrassing copy-and-paste of my services:
<3<3<3
hi there! :3
thank you so much for breaking that fourth wall and letting me get to know you a little better <3
let's make this official <3 as my friend you get:
3 pictures a day!
unlimited access to my archived content!
access to my direct messages! (responses not guaranteed :/ i only have two hands <3)
do you want even more? as a best friend you can get:
1 exclusive video a month!
a good morning text every day!
priority messaging!
participate in polls to decide what I do and wear in streams!
thanks again and can't wait to chat with you soon <3
<3<3<3
Since you are a paying customer (thanks, by the way), tell me if you'd prefer for ME to talk to you on here, or if you want Void.
i can talk to you like this if you wantttt <33333 :3
I also don't know how much of this is a pity purchase and how much of this is real. I don't wanna cross boundaries.
-void
Her message oozed defensiveness. Sebastian began to type a response before he could really process what he was saying, gnawing on his lip in concentration.
Hello Void,
One: I hope you made it home okay. I assume you did — unless you're prioritizing messaging your JuniFans over calling the police in the back of some creep's van.
Two: This isn't a pity purchase.
Three: As long as you don't think it's weird … talk to me as Void. Hopefully it'll help me not pop a boner every time I see the real you IRL.
Four: If you're comfortable with it, I plan on using my "best friend" status to the highest degree.
Sincerely,
Frozen
It took a solid thirty minutes for Sebastian to hit send, re-writing the message at least three times, blushing awkwardly at his forwardness. He exited out of the tab as he waited for her reply, still feeling weird about looking at her stuff without her explicit permission, and debugged for a client — a chemical engineering student with no patience to learn C++ for a mandatory comp sci class — until lunch. He once again managed to avoid his family as he microwaved himself a quesadilla and then returned downstairs, chewing on it mindlessly as he logged back in to JuniFans.
One new message.
"SINCERELY"?!? What am I, your co-worker? But alright, here we go….
i'm void, your good little sex toy :3 but i guess i can be anything you want <3
"Oh fucking hell," Sebastian grumbled out loud, dick jumping at the thought of Gwen calling herself his sex toy. If he was horned up by that, he was loathe to see how fucked he'd be once he was looking at her actual content.
feel free to use your membership to its fullest <3 i let you follow me for a reason…
I haven't streamed since leaving the city, but i think you motivated me to start it back up :) see you at 77777777
'sincerelyyyy', void
Good thing he asked her to talk as Void; the ridiculous cutesy thing was a perfect barrier between the girl across town and his new — her words, not his — 'sex toy'. Satisfied with her enthusiastic consent, Sebastian finally allowed himself to view her main profile.
And fuck was he in for it.
hai friends and best friends!! <3
welcome to my page :)
i am a solo streamer. i am heterosexual, assigned female at birth, and use she/her pronouns.
interests: video gamessss, dungeons and dragons, anime, music
kinks: bdsm, somno, cnc, degradation :p and probably lots of other stuff :)
boundaries: blood, piss, scat, ageplay, and anything harmful to others (i will not be homophobic, racist, etc. to fulfill your fantasies)
you can message me about anything under the sun unless it crosses my boundaries. i've been told i'm a good listener <3
love, void
The first post that drew his attention was a close-up of her cunt, glistening on the screen, pink and perfect. He quickly replied to the post in a direct chat:
fr0zent3ar: fuck, I missed this pussy.
Almost immediately, xxvoidxx liked his comment.
Sebastian shuffled his sweatpants down to mid-thigh, pumping some lotion onto his palm before wrapping it around the base of his cock.
Onto the next. He opened a video this time: her fingers shoved deep in her cunt — her moans, soft and sweet, hitting his brain directly through his headphones. He began to slide his hand up his shaft, inhaling sharply at the sensation, eyes glued to his screen as he continued.
A picture of her wearing lingerie, neon pink, tattoos dark against her skin. Tits pushed together sinfully … and another picture on the same post — naked — legs up and spread, hands wrapped around her ankles, smiling for the camera. Sebastian's pace increased.
Another video. This one titled: 'throat training for you <3'. A dildo was suctioned to the wall, and she wore a collar — chunky and black with metal studs — all while tears streamed down her face as she took the silicone cock into her mouth. She spluttered around it, giving up half way, only to stare at the camera and blink shyly, as if this wasn't something she decided to do on her own volition. After a few seconds of playing innocent she took the toy again, deeper this time, gagging but persisting as her chin knocked into the faux balls, drool falling from her lips in messy strings. She pinched her nose and held herself there for a few seconds before pulling back, coughing violently. Fluttery, teary eyes stared at him as she turned the video off.
Another private message:
fr0zent3ar: next time I see you I'm gonna choke you on my cock. Idc who sees
Horny Sebastian was in the driver's seat with no regard for the fact that Void was Gwen, and Gwen was Void. His hand rapidly slid up and down his cock, twisting it in just the right way, thumb pressing against the throbbing vein on the underside and then smearing lotion and precum across his sensitive head.
xxvoidxx: please do :)
xxvoidxx: are you touching yourself? because i have a dildo shoved in my tight little pussy, imagining it's you :p
How many different guys did she claim to have in her mind as she fucked herself — if she even was? She was probably cooking lunch or something, dry as the Calico Desert. But he didn't dwell on that, instead imagining the fantasy she'd described, taking a two-second break to yank his shirt over his head before he continued stroking, clicking around frantically for something of her riding a dildo so he could have a visual of what she just claimed —
Bingo. Void had her arms in fuzzy handcuffs as she bounced on a comically large, neon green dick. Fake cum oozed down her jiggling breasts and stomach, dripping into puddles on the ground as the dildo slid in and out of her messy pussy. She was babbling some nonsense — calling the viewer 'Sir' — cunt squelching.
Sebastian let out a strangled moan as he came on the spot, spurts of cum hitting his chest and stomach. He wiped himself up with a few tissues lazily before starting the hunt for more material. In about ten or twenty minutes he could recover for round two … and who wouldn't want to spend as much time as they could with their best friend?
By the time seven o'clock came around Sebastian was in a haze, overstimulated to hell and back after switching between work and Gwen's JuniFans all day like some crazed kid who just discovered porn for the first time. He'd probably masturbated more times in the past six hours than he had in the past two months, combined.
He didn't eat dinner with the family, using work as an excuse, when really it was just because he couldn't look them in the eye while he was feeling so depraved. He'd blown his load to some pretty weird shit in the past few hours. There was an old stream of Gwen that was literally just her playing games — wearing nothing revealing, just a hoodie — and he came to that. He came to a video of her doing her hair. Basically, if Gwen was on the screen, he would find a way to nut. He stopped messaging her after the first time, not wanting her to get creeped out by his … eager overuse of his new membership.
And now, for the day's grand finale:
xxvoidxx is LIVE.
Sebastian's heart raced as he joined, Gwen's face appearing on the screen. Her eyes, green and sparkly in the ring light, scanned the chat, widening a little as she glanced up at the camera shyly. "Some new viewers today…" she said in a sultry tone that was abnormal for Gwen Aces, but he supposed matched 'Void' pretty well. Regardless, the words struck him in the gut — a direct callout. She knew he was there...watching. Anticipating.
"I moved recently, hence the new background," she rambled on, "it's a quiet place. I can get as loud as I want now, and no one will hear me."
blueyezblueballz: drop the address. we'll give u somethin to scream about.
Something protective flared up in Sebastian until he heard a breathless giggle — saw her lean forward a little bit — giving everyone a peek of cleavage from an otherwise tame tank top.
"Haven't found anyone I trust enough to get put on their CNC map…" she chewed her lip, staring directly into the webcam — staring directly at Sebastian, "but maybe if I find someone close enough … y'guys might get a surprise show one day."
69fingermetimber69: u don't need to trust them. Know ur place, bitch
Geez, these guys were brutal. But clearly Gwen was liking it to some extent … or maybe it was an act. Just in case it was the latter, Sebastian figured he should put some kinder words of encouragement in the chat, especially to atone for the fact that he was getting turned on from the degrading messages.
fr0zent3ar: you look pretty
Gwen smiled and blushed. The chat suddenly flooded with insults — this time, lobbed toward him.
69fingermetimber69: PUSSSYYYY IN THE CHAT. GET YOUR BALLS STEPPED ON
blueeyezblueballz: you lost kid? this bitch doesn't want compliments. she wants to be spat on like the whore she is. go find some vanilla bitch.
user34108: someone's new here lol
l0serknowbrakes: aw we gotta simp
some1sdad: chill guys, at least new dude is here: that's a good first step. he'll learn over time how to treat women. Void's a good teacher
user34108: void's not a teacher she's a brainless slut. We got u, tho. u'll learn lil bro.
Sebastian's ears burned at the attention. He looked back to Gwen, worried that he'd see a hint of sadness there, but she simply looked amused by the comments. "Aw guys, be nice to Frozen. Geez, so mean."
blueballzblueeyez: shut up and show us ur tits. we're 5 min past start time. show us what we paid for
user34108: ^
some1sdad: ^^ haha yea
Sebastian's fingers hovered over the keyboard. He gulped, dick twitching — hard and leaking against his abdomen ever since the stream started.
Sebastian kept the chat open, shamefully getting off on the filth that popped up on the screen as Gwen shuffled out of her shirt, perfect tits caged by a lacy black bra. He wasn't particularly eager to start masturbating again, dick sensitive and raw from his embarrassing jerk-off marathon, but he wanted to do it one more time … wanted to do it to her live, knowing she was just a twenty minute walk away.
She was totally nude within seconds, body on full display for her audience — for Sebastian — foot propped up on the arm of her desk chair as she rolled back a little bit so everyone could get a view of her spread pussy. It looked tight as she parted her puffy cunt with her fingers, slick and glistening in the artificial light.
After some teasing she grabbed a dildo from her desk, giving it a few licks as she checked the chat. They were all giving her orders in various magnitudes of perversion, from sucking it to putting it in her cunt to anal to grabbing another one and doing double penetration.
"How about one of our new viewers puts a suggestion in the chat?" She purred around the silicone cock head, closing her lips around it and slowly inching herself down, lashes fluttering at the camera until she was about halfway down.
Sebastian began to type with eager fingers, knowing exactly who she was trying to goad.
fr0zent3ar: choke on it. pretend it's mine.
fr0zent3ar: and only think about me. close the chat.
blueeyezblueballz: LMAO this guy is funny. and delusional
user34108: Who's gonna tell him sluts online won't love him back…..
"I'll close the chat if you close yours," Void proposed softly, lips glossy with spit. Sebastian smiled and hit the red 'x', sufficiently muting the dickheads in her audience.
She, too, clicked her mouse — presumably to exit the chat — and suddenly it was just them. No more Void, just Gwen and Sebastian, and he finally grasped the base of his cock for the first time all stream as she pressed a little kiss against the fake one on the screen.
"Like this?" She asked before sliding her lips down the shaft, lower and lower, pushing past the gag that wracked her body as she tried to reach the base.
"Yeah…" he mumbled, as if she could hear him, eyes glued to her and unblinking, not wanting to miss a single second.
She held herself down for a little bit before shooting back up, coughing, sloppy strings of drool connecting her and the silicone.
Gwen looked at him again — teary-eyed from her exertion — and whispered an earnest "I'm sorry" that made his hand still.
She could be apologizing for giving up so soon. For not "choking on it" as he so crudely requested.
But maybe — maybe she was apologizing for everything else … in a weird, convoluted sort of way, sure … but that was Gwen for ya. Marched to the beat of her own drum … kept him confused at all times, like a puzzle insistent on not being solved.
"It's okay," he replied to deaf ears. And he meant it — for the choking, and for everything else.
He wanted to hold the grudge. In the morning, it would probably return. But right now, he forgave her. Stupidly and wholly.
She went back down on the dildo, making a show of it as she moaned around the intrusion, delicate hand caressing the fake balls at the base. He copied her motions, mouth slightly ajar as he pretended his hand was her own, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
When she bottomed out, she glanced toward the camera proudly, and gave the back of her head a thwack for added effect. Sebastian cursed to himself, imagining having her lips pressed all the way onto the flesh of his crotch, struggling to breathe as he patted her skull down even further, just like she had. He imagined the way her nails would dig into his thighs as he held her there, totally at his mercy for her next breath.
"Fuck," his pace increased, "fuck, so good for me…did this all for me, huh?"
He was certain he'd look back on this with nothing but regret tomorrow, but he continued his pathetic babbling: some loser watching his ex-girlfriend suck fake cock on a livestream. He had to be so nice to Abby in their … entanglements … but Gwen clearly didn't need that kind of sweet talk — and so he let himself say his deepest thoughts out loud, with no one to hear them.
"Ah — nf— want me to come over there right now, I bet," he grunted, "slut offering herself to be fucked by — ff — by strangers. Want me to break in, huh? Wanna scream as I break into that shitty farmhouse? I know it doesn't even have a lock …could just — fuck — walk in and just…pin you down…" the wet shleck of his movements was in sync with her whiny glugs. It was hot. Sebastian felt hot. His body was burning, balls tightening with each stroke … "make you say sorry for all the shit you've done —" he gasped with strangled emotion, "for leaving me — you'll … you'll beg for me to f-fuck you — you'll apologize … on your knees — put my fuckin' cock in your mouth 'nd make up for it the only w-way you know how — oh fuck —" eyes glassy, he came all over his hand, thick ribbons coating his fingers and sliding down his stomach.
And then, as if he couldn't get any more pathetic — he cried.
chapters are below the cut. story contains smut and mature themes: mdni!!
AO3 Link
They chased frogs as children, held hands awkwardly as teens, and ended it abruptly as adults.
Sebastian set his sights on Zuzu City as soon as Gwen left. When she returns five years later as a cautionary tale, he finds himself torn between who she was, who she is, and who he wants her to be: all paths of which converge in Pelican Town, and not the skyline on the horizon.
story contains mature themes and eventual smut. mdni!
AO3 Link
Table of Contents
Chapter 16 <- Read Previous
Read Next -> to be continued ...
Looking for more in the meantime? Checkout my prequel-in-progress, Night After Night, which provides more insight into Eva's past with Floch.
content warning: finally some actual smut!
Reiner and Eva cross a line. Surely nothing was meant by it.
The Liberio Market was bustling as ever, streets lined with locals trying to make a living whether that be by selling produce, artisanal goods, clothing, or utilitarian staples. Eva carried two bags full of pantry foods and a smaller tote of newly acquired soaps and lotion, watching Connie attempt to barter at the fishmonger's with a grimace. He was somehow driving the price up instead of down; it got to the point where Jean had to step in and apologize, mollifying the owner with an offer to pay the original price and be done with it.
Reiner's lips parted — no doubt to comment on Connie's pathetic display of mercantilism — but he was cut off by a high-pitched plea. "Can I get a doll!?" Jolyne yanked on Reiner's hand, pointing her finger in the direction of a stall advertising burlap creations in the likeness of babies and woodland animals.
"What happened to Shirley?"
"Jo dropped Shirley into a pot of porridge," Pieck stated dryly, raising a brow at the pouting girl. "I think it was intentional."
"She was dirty and ugly!" Jolyne whined. "Cosette's new doll has a dress and hair … I want my doll to have a dress and hair —"
"Well you shoulda thought about that when you — oh c'mon, seriously?" Pieck scoffed as Reiner allowed himself to be dragged in the direction of the toy maker, hand already rifling through his pockets for payment.
Now alone, Pieck's gaze flicked briefly toward Eva before diverting it. Neither woman spoke, and it did not take long for Pieck to choose flight over fight, dragging her feet toward a display of sunflowers and gourds stiffly. Eva frowned, refocusing on Reiner and Jolyne, observing how the little girl barked orders as if she were the ex-Titan, and not the other way around. She rejected each doll he pointed at, demanding he place her on his shoulders so she could assess the top shelf. Perched there at the top of the world she must have found something she liked, because she lurched forward, fisting his hair as if it were a clump of grass to steady herself, snatching up her target, triumphant grin forming between her chubby cheeks.
Eva hadn't noticed she was smiling at the interaction until Connie interrupted, shoving a wrapped fish into the crook of her filling arms, asking "what's got you so tickled?"
She didn't bother with a response to his rhetorical pester. He forgot about it quickly anyways, scanning the crowd for the other orphans that had tagged along. "Where's Mazen and Casper?"
"Harassed Annie into taking them to get some ice cream," Eva scrunched her nose at the fisheye that stared up at her unblinkingly. "Why am I the pack mule today?"
It was Connie's turn to leave her question unanswered as Reiner, Jolyne, and Jolyne's new doll returned. Connie gave the cheesing girl a thumbs up before nodding toward a tent down the way, smirking in Reiner's direction. "You said you had to get clothes, right? Alanna's in her usual spot."
"Yeah—"
"I wanna show 'Lanna my new Shirley!" Jolyne exclaimed, darting off toward their new destination. Reiner huffed a laugh.
Alanna was a very pretty woman, with soft blonde hair, golden skin: tall, lean, and above a button nose, baby-blue eyes that sparkled in recognition. She approached Reiner first, smile beaming, Jolyne already set on her hip.
"Hey, stranger! Long time no see!" She then acknowledged the others: "Connie, Jean, great to see you boys too…" her smile wavered — just enough for a girl to notice — when her attention landed on Eva. Eva shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how she was carrying around a hulking fish carcass in a pair of fraying pants and too-loose sweater. "And, sorry, I don't think we've met…"
"This is Eva," Reiner introduced. "Connie — take back your fish — and the rest of her stuff — so she can get her measurements done."
"Eva…" Alanna tested out the name for herself, smiling crookedly before her attention returned fully to Reiner. "And here I thought you were supposed to shrink after you lost your Titan, but — that shirt looks tight on you!"
"Hah, yeah, well, I'm not in the greatest shape right now—" his brows furrowed as Alanna set Jolyne down to grab her sewing tape, slipping it around his waist with practiced ease. Eva glanced away, observing the fabric hanging on wooden racks. "—you just took my measurements a few months ago, I don't think—" Reiner's voice caught in his throat as Alanna slapped his abdomen lightly in faux-offense. Eva glanced back to the pair, noting his pained expression.
"As your seamstress, I think I know what's b—”
"Watch his ribs," Eva interrupted, knowing that flirty whack probably hurt like hell. "They're broken."
"Oh shoot, sorry … what happened?" Alanna gasped, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it, cooing over the red and purple swell of his injury, bordered with splotches of gray and green: proof of healing.
"Just part of the job…" Reiner took a half-step back to tug his shirt down.
Jolyne pulled on Eva's sleeve, little fingers brushing over a square of dark blue cotton. "Miss Eva…do you think 'Lanna can make me another dress for Shirley?"
"I'm sure she can," Eva replied, glancing over the colorful array of sample fabric, taking notice of a spruce-colored swatch. It would make a nice shirt, or maybe even dress. Eva couldn't remember the last time she wore one of those. "Y'know I'm not too bad with a needle myself, Jo. I can probably make one for ya. I think Alanna prefers to make big girl clothes."
"Really? You can do that?!" The girl stared up at her with wide eyes, curious and unblinking.
"Sure, I —"
"Eva needs to get measured too," Reiner called her over to the other side of the spacious tent, still standing close to Alanna, though his focus seemed elsewhere.
Eva didn't miss the frown Alanna wore as she began to take her measurements. Slender fingers pulled the sewing tape around her chest, arms, waist, and thighs, punctuated by quiet huffs of inconvenience.
"They'll need entire wardrobes," Connie plopped himself onto a small stool, kicking his long legs out in front of him. "Eva especially. First thing she needs is a jacket — I'll pay for it myself. If she wears that ugly Y—"
"What happened to all those clothes I made you in spring?" Alanna cocked her head, hands stilling from her task to re-focus on Reiner.
"Went up in a fire," Reiner mumbled. Alanna's eyes widened in shock.
"What did, your entire house?"
Reiner scratched his jaw and glanced toward Eva, who looked away to watch Connie, whose lazy grin was stretched mile-wide as he glanced between Reiner and the seamstress.
"Yeah. I, uh, live at HQ now."
Alanna tsked. "My building has a few open rooms. Everyone would be thrilled to have The Armored—"
"So how long for new clothes?" Reiner interrupted her offer. Her lips dipped briefly into a frown.
"…well, I have some extra stuff in your size from last time. Check the rack over there. Anything new…give me a week?" Her gaze flitted to Eva. "You can check the racks out, too. I have more in stock for women than men. And if you pick out some swatches you like, I can make more tailored pieces."
"How long will it take?"
"A month, maybe two."
Eva would laugh at the audacity, but she held her tongue. The smell of fish was starting to get to her, and her sweater was scratchy beneath this woman's pretty leer.
"Aw, c'mon. You can't push her up any further in the queue?" Connie pouted in Eva's place. "And here I was, thinking we were all friendly enough to play cards tonight."
Everyone looked at Connie in that moment with varying levels of 'do not' — except for Alanna and Jolyne. Alanna: with a flicker of excitement and hope as she stole another eager glance toward The Armored. Jolyne: just as oblivious as Connie, plopped down on the ground, Shirley-Two firm in her grasp.
"I'm afraid I don't really play…"
"Well you can just watch — we usually play with four anyways — and Reiner always loses, so he'll need a good luck charm." Connie looked so very pleased with himself as he glanced to Eva for approval, thinking he could drag her into his schemes — but that was a reaction she could not bring herself to fake. "But my good friend Eva over here really needs a new jacket. Sounds fair, no? An evening in our esteemed company in exchange for some measly garments?"
Another bad trade in the books for Connie Springer. Eva would get her clothes a few weeks sooner, but they would have a guest at that night's poker game.
She'd have preferred the wait.
Eva was pleasantly tipsy by the time Alanna announced herself at the guest barn with a dainty knock, adorned in a long, lacy skirt and a sweater that looked softer than anything Eva could dream of possessing.
Connie acknowledged her eagerly. Jean nodded: friendly, but reserved. Reiner nodded in greeting before returning to his cards, frowning down at his hand. Eva's fingers brushed absentmindedly over her own skirt — the stupid dandelion one that was falling apart at the seams and far too lightweight for the weather — but the nicest thing she had.
Jean had asked her why she was wearing it. She brushed it off as having nothing left to wear — which was mostly true. She had a stash of clothes ready for washing in the morning.
"I come bearing gifts!" Alanna approached them with a fine bottle of whiskey, handing it to Connie. "Thank you for inviting me. Where should I sit?"
Eva was seated next to Reiner, with Jean across and Connie diagonal. Next to Connie, resting near the leg of the table: a creaky stool Eva used to reach the top lock on the barn doors.
"You can sit here," Eva offered her more comfortable chair, attempting civility as she stood. She half expected the woman to decline, but instead she eagerly accepted and lowered herself into the spot next to Reiner. The chairs were close enough for their shoulders to brush. Reiner leaned forward to grab his glass and take a sip of liquor; he stayed there, hunched over his cards, all the while Eva plopped onto the stool, praying a splinter wouldn't pierce her ass, and wincing at the thought of all the times she'd stepped on it in her boots, whose soles likely had a permanent film of horse shit and dirt.
The card game progressed slowly, but as Alanna's gift was opened and poured, the group loosened. She had her head tilted back in a giggle at some joke Reiner made. He was leaned back in his chair, now, arms folded across his chest, pullover discarded some time ago, muscles straining against some old t-shirt. Eva only allowed herself to stare for a few seconds before she tuned in to Jean and Connie's bickering. Today's topic? Flowers.
"Flowers would be a waste of space and time," Jean argued. "Why grow flowers when we could grow food? Reiner eats enough for seven people. So do you."
"We practically drowned in zucchini this year. Believe me, I think we have enough food in the garden," Connie pouted. "Flowers will raise morale. They're nice to look at! And if anyone gets tired of staring at your horse face, all they gotta do is take a glance outside!"
"Better a horse face than bald."
"I'm not bald, I keep my hair short. Big difference." Connie ran a hand over his head. "Some of us understand the concept of grooming —"
"So who are you exactly?" Alanna's question cut through the banter softly, its rough edges blurred by alcohol. Her blue eyes — darker here than their iridescent shade in the sunlight — fluttered innocently. "I don't mean to be rude or anything … I just haven't heard about you before."
Eva forced a smile. "I'm Eva."
"Well yes, I've gathered that much," Alanna leaned slightly into Reiner's side — just enough for their arms to bump into each other. "Are you a refugee from somewhere? A delegate? You've got a Friezian look about you, but you're missing the accent …" she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but Rei never mentioned you —"
"Well 'Rei' and I are sworn enemies. Surely he'd want to spare you of the gory details." Eva's skin prickled. "And who are you? Other than a seamstress, of course. Are you Marleyan?"
Alanna's eyes widened a fraction at Eva's abrasive tone. She sank back, seeking Reiner's gaze for backup, which he ignored — brow lifted in amusement.
"All citizens are Marleyan now," she murmured.
"Yes, but are you Eldian?" Eva leaned forward. "Or are you full Marleyan?"
Eva's mind had been made up the second she'd observed Alanna's fair, unblemished skin and the poise with which she held herself: assured and elegant. Alanna's hesitant utterance of 'True Marleyan' was simply confirmation of what she already knew.
Eva planned on dropping it there, hoping the other woman would do the same. But to her surprise, Alanna continued. "Sworn enemies? So you're from Paradis? Are you another Scout?"
Feeling no shame, Eva revealed: "No. I'm a — was a — Yeagerist."
The barn fell silent. Alanna was clearly taken aback, spine stiff and eyes wide, while the men were hardly surprised. Eva blinked down at her cards, which hadn't been used in some time; they'd hit that inevitable part in the evening where the game had been forgotten, strategy replaced by a boozy haze.
Shameless as she was, she also knew she'd killed the mood. Eva stifled a yawn and stood, glancing toward Reiner briefly — guiltily —before stepping away from the table. "I like the flowers idea," she took Connie's side, as she often did, and with that final contribution to the conversation she began her retreat to the bathroom so she could wash up for the evening, her steps slow and unmeasured.
The atmosphere had seemingly lightened by the time she re-emerged, making it easy to slip into her room without a fuss. She chalked her mood up to homesickness; Alanna reminded Eva of Hitch … for no real reason other than it was a woman who wasn't Annie, Mikasa, or Pieck, all of whom she held varying levels of bad history with. It would be nice to have some untainted female companionship in this new place — but Alanna was evidently an impossible candidate.
The lighthearted chatter echoing around the barn lulled her into a shallow sleep. How long she lingered in that state was unknown, but at some point a visitor tore her away from her almost-dreams, pushing her door wide open. She jolted awake.
"You asleep?"
Reiner. Eva's racing heart slowed as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was dark in the barn, now. And quiet.
"I was."
"Can I come in?"
Eva hummed sleepily, re-closing her eyes. The edge of her bed sank beneath his weight. "Connie n' Jean passed out in the room next t'ya."
"…Thanks for the update."
"Mhm. N'problem." Reiner yawned.
"And what about Alanna?"
"W'bout her?"
"Is she staying here too?"
The bed shifted as Reiner made himself more comfortable. "Yea, she's in m'bed."
A bitter response prepared itself on Eva's tongue. "Oh. Well — you can go back to her now." When he didn't move, the knot that had been forming in her stomach since that morning tightened. "Unless you don't know where to stick it."
Reiner huffed a laugh. "Don't wanna stick it in her. Wan' my bed back."
Eva's lips twitched upward, but she fought them back down. "Well there's other guest rooms, Rei."
The calloused pad of a pointer finger pressed into her forehead. She flinched, re-opening her eyes to glare at the man who now stared down at her. "I hate that nickname."
Unfazed by his proximity — perhaps due to her own dulled inhibitions — she let him linger, observing his shadowy outline through hooded eyes. "Mm, okay. Then what should I call you? Should I go back to Armored?"
He lifted his hand to her face again. This time she could see it — could see its solid shape move closer — could see his scarred knuckles in the thin sliver of moonlight that cut through her curtains. A thumb brushed her cheek. "I like hearing you say Reiner," he murmured, dragging his touch toward her ear, tucking a piece of stray hair behind it in the process. "Feels like somethin' I c'n be proud of f'r once." Eva's breath hitched at the admission. His hand left her face, only to re-attach itself onto her waist, searing the skin beneath her nightdress: the thin one meant for summer months, but she wore it tonight because the alcohol made her warm. She didn't even have her covers on. "Should I call you Evie?"
Her eyes were adjusting. She could see him more clearly now, hair silver in the moonlight, sight fixed on his hand, which was settled upon the thin fabric that separated their bodies.
"No."
"…should the others? Connie? Jean?" His palm dragged lightly down the curve of her leg.
"Should they what? Call me Evie?"
"Mhm."
Eva tried to focus on the question, fighting for even breath. "Sure. They can call me whatever."
"But I can't?"
"No."
Reiner toyed with the hem of her nightdress. "Can they touch you? Like this?"
Eva's breath stuttered softly. "…No."
His fingers stilled. They lifted — and hovered.
"Can I?"
Eva could barely hear the question over the erratic beating of her heart. Her eyes traced him as he maneuvered his body between her thighs. "'M drunk but not that drunk," he said softly. "I'll walk outta here. We c'n call it payback … f'r that time ya humped me on th'boat." Eva laughed at that, blushing fiercely, fingertips curling at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across her exposed skin. "But I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it. 'Nd Alanna's in m'bed 'nd all I c'n think 'bout is you."
Eva didn't have the courage to respond with words, and she didn't want to dwell on the sweet nothings that a drunkard was whispering to her in the dark. But her body hadn't been touched in five years. And unfortunately for her sense of pride and identity, Reiner had been the object of her fantasies ever since they returned to the mainland.
"…I haven't been with anyone since…" she looked away in shame. "And he was my only…"
"Don' worry 'bout it," Reiner rested his hands upon her once again, this time on the smooth curve of her thighs, nudging them apart. "Where's y'r skirt? I like that skirt. First time I saw you w's in that skirt. Thought you were pretty."
Eva scoffed. "Not exactly sleeping clothes."
"Thought y'were pretty — but then I thought y'were a bitch."
"Does that line work on Alanna?"
Reiner ignored her question. "I liked it, though." His thumbs traced circles on her skin, dipping further below the hem of the nightgown. "Most'f the time. 'Cause I … d'served it. People f'rget here. Don' remember who I am."
Eva watched him hitch her night dress up further. She felt his fingers trembling; slightly, but noticeable enough. "You d'serve it too. Y've done horrible things. Like me."
For the first time, Eva did not grow defensive by such an accusation. She simply softened: cut open and on display for the man above her.
"I wanna hear you say it," he breathed huskily, refocusing on his original mission. "Wanna hear you ask for it."
Eva gulped. She was toeing a delicate line that, if crossed, could have very unfortunate consequences. But his touch was consuming her. His words — ill-timed as they were — were exactly what she needed to hear.
Almost.
"I don't regret it…" she whispered, almost frantically. A final warning. "All the choices I've made in the past … I'd make them again … "
"I know." He didn't expand on it. Eva didn't need him to — not right now. Didn't even want him to. His acceptance alone was the nail in the coffin: her decision, made.
Reiner lifted her dress completely, the fabric cinched around her hips. She wondered if he could see the damp patch that had been growing steadily since he first entered the room. "Reiner, I …" her cheeks blossomed pink. "I…"
"I…I…" Reiner teased, lips — soft, surprisingly so — brushed against her inner thigh, nose gently nudging her legs even further apart.
"Would you shut up…"
"Ask nicely…"
The audacity. Here this man was, sneaking into her room, throwing himself at her — yet she was the one who had to beg. With a huff, she wiggled impatiently. "Please use your mouth for something other than talking."
Reiner didn't have to be told twice.
He went slow, at first; and for that, Eva was thankful. Starting at her clothed cunt, he slotted his entire head between her legs, burying his face into the damp cotton, inhaling her scent with a fervor that Eva could barely process. Then, his tongue — dragging itself across her covered slit, punctuated by a sloppy kiss to where it was hidden. This alone elicited an airy gasp from Eva, whose legs were already twitching in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut only to open again so she could stare at his outline.
She wanted more but didn't — couldn't — rush him. He eventually pulled down the now-soaked fabric, exposing her lower half completely. His thumb dipped into her slick and spread it across her clit, rubbing it in wide, dizzying circles, the remaining fingers on that hand pressing into the soft patch of hair just above.
And then he ate her.
His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into the toned flesh, firm muscle of his tongue randomly switching between fucking into her tight, clenching hole and licking sloppily up to her clit, where he'd do anything from rub his nose along it to graze it with his teeth to suck and swirl around it with his tongue. Eva tried her very best to remain quiet, but she was so sensitive and he felt so good. Her right hand threaded its fingers through his soft hair — ruffled and in need of a cut — as her head fell back onto her pillow.
He pulled an orgasm from her relatively quickly — consuming her sticky release and groaning into her sopping hole. She thought he'd stop there … let his pleasure take priority for the rest of the night ... but Reiner only continued to feast, now adding his fingers to the mix, skipping one and going right to two. They were rough and strong and textured, sliding along each nook and cranny, exploring.
"You taste s'good," praised, sucking her clit meanly as his fingers fucked deeper into her, curling expertly — as if he'd been given some secret map of her body ahead of time, and knew just the right rhythm to make her mewl wantonly, panting, nearly pushing her over the edge again before he suddenly stopped.
If she were stone-cold sober, she'd be embarrassed by her next action: she whined. Pathetically. Eyes wide and glossy, pupils blown with lust. Reiner's brows jumped in surprise, face masked with a mixture of fascination and admiration.
"Are you in pain?" she asked, remembering his injuries with a jolt, suddenly realizing that lying on one's stomach was not advisable for someone with his diagnosis.
"Been through worse," he grunted. "Just takin' a second t'look atcha."
She blushed, not knowing how to respond, the shy, sensitive woman that lingered beneath her prickly armor on full display with nowhere to hide. Sensing her embarrassment — or, maybe, simply impatient — he dove back in, even sloppier than the first time, fingers increasing their pace, bullying out the sweetest sounds from her lips. She cried out into her palm, trying to stifle herself as she came again, gushing around him, dripping onto the sheets. He moaned hedonistically as he lapped at her release a final time, only stopping when she began to jump away from his touch, overstimulated and spent. Eva stared up at the ceiling, mind temporarily blank, fluttery cunt trying to suck him back in as he withdrew his fingers from her, peppering her thighs with sweet kisses.
She didn't know how long she stayed jelly-limbed and breathless, but it didn't take long for the weight of Reiner's head to grow heavy, lips smooshed against the slippery skin of her thighs as his breathing shallowed. A cloud slowly drifted over the moon, casting them in complete darkness.
What they'd done began to wash over her in waves, various insecurities replacing her ebbing pleasure. She had little experience in matters of the heart, and didn't understand what this meant, or how to proceed. She didn't even know how she wanted to proceed. Guilt plagued her suddenly, recalling the last time she'd been intimate with a man — and how that ended — and what he'd think if he saw what she'd done … and who she'd done it with.
The only justification that made sense to her was that she was just a scratch he had to itch, and vice-versa. He'd admitted that he had a beautiful, gentle, kind woman in his bed right now; perhaps too precious to ravish in their drunken state, so he approached the whore who'd thrown herself at him on the boat instead, knowing she was too spiteful to hope for anything more .. too hung up on her past and a dead lover to demand an explanation.
Eva didn't expect this picture she painted of herself to hurt. Didn't expect a tangle of disappointment to root itself deep into her stomach, pulsing unpleasantly as she convinced herself that this was the truth.
So with a tired heart, to meet his expectations — and to make sense of her own — Eva maneuvered herself quietly from the bed. Reiner's head flopped onto the mattress, but he didn't stir an inch as Eva shifted her nightdress back into its usual place, took a grounding breath, and left. She collapsed onto a bed in one of the spare rooms and burrowed into the covers, replaying each touch … each filthy moan that left Reiner's lips … hoping that come morning, this could all be forgotten.
Table of Contents
Chapter 16 <- Read Previous
Read Next -> to be continued ...
Looking for more in the meantime? Checkout my prequel-in-progress, Night After Night, which provides more insight into Eva's past with Floch.
she/her // 25 // corporate slave that writes for fun // cat mom // yapper
blog dedicated to aot, bleach, jjk, and stardew valley (with jjba and naruto reblogs thrown in the mix)
roots beneath ideals ‣ RBI is my AOT canon x original character magnum opus and I am putting a lot of effort into that series. so i will be yapping tons about it on this blog.
