Eventually III {Dark!Bertholdt x Reader}

"Commander!" Hanji Zoe's voice rung out loud as she barged through the door of Commander Erwin Smith's office. "Sir, we've searched everywhere. Under every bed of every room. Mike and his team have checked the surrounding woods and river within two kilometers. There's no sign of them. Levi's squad have conducted interviews with everyone. They haven't been seen since dinner two nights ago."

Erwin put down his pen and looked at his eccentric comrade, deep in thought. "Well. It seems like they're well and truly missing. There have been rumors of wolves nearby. But it seems unlikely that two of the best new recruits wouldn't be able to fend of feral dogs. I'm sorry to say that signs point to desertion."

Hanji sighed. "I know. That's what everyone's thinking. We have connections in all the surrounding villages keeping an eye out for them. But my gut tells me that... well... I didn't know Fubar well, but I just don't believe (y/n) would desert."

"She was under your command, correct?"

"Yes. She was. She was loyal as anything, and such a good solider. She knew her duties and was unafraid to carry them out. Protecting humanity and freeing us all from the titans were her top priorities. It just doesn't seem right." Hanji sighed. She had grown rather fond of the new recruit.

"From reports, Bertholdt Fubar was also a good solider. A top tenner and everything. Aloof but well liked." Erwin thought for a second. "Hanji, I need you to bring me some recruits. Braun, Leonhardt, and Blaus. Lenz  as well."

"They've already been interviewed, sir..."

"Not by me. They were all close to either one or both of them. If Fubar and (L/n) were planning desertion together, they must have let some clue slip." Erwin looked at Hanji with cold steel eyes. He was worried as well. Bertholdt and (y/n) were his comrades and he didn't want to lose any more men. "Bring Levi as well. If anyone can wring information out of guarded teenagers, it's him."

"At once, sir!"

***

Your waking was gentle and slow as the birds' morning songs roused you. A vast improvement compared to last time. It felt good to not be thrust into consciousness. You nearly smiled before you remembered where you were. Here. Still trapped in this nightmare.

You jolted up. There was no time to relax when you're a caged bird. You have to find a way out. You pulled back the thick brown curtains that hid the window. Light waterfalled in through the glass pane, completely illuminating the room.

You could see a blindingly obvious contrast between your silk bed sheets and the dusty stone floor and the faded walls. The white wallpaper was peeling in places, exposing ugly brown bricks. A simple brick fireplace sat against the wall.

The only furniture in the room was a wood bedside table, a heavy wood dresser under the window and a wooden stool near the right side of the bed. The work of all the pieces was rough, like they were handmade by an amateur. You hovered your hand over the stool, remembering that Bertholdt was sitting on it when you fell asleep last night. Ice cold. At least he had the decency not to watch you all night.

You noted the other door attached to your room, the one against the left wall. It swung open smoothly when you turned the brass knob. A small toilet and sink stood against one wall. The sink looked to have running water. It must be connected to a well somewhere. A bathtub sat opposite the toilet and sink. If Bertholdt thought you were going to bathe, he was clearly mistaken. Maybe he'd take you home if you stank bad enough.

Most interesting was the heavy door parallel to the bedroom door. You tried opening it, but it only wobbled slightly then pulled back into the door frame. Something must have been blocking it from the outside. You turned to get back to your room and investigate the contents of the dresser when a flash caught your eye.

A mirror was nailed on the wall facing the bath. You looked at yourself in the dingy light of the bathroom. Your face had streaks of dirt scattered around. Your white shirt was torn at the sleeves and the hem. A couple of buttons had popped. Your pants were badly wrinkled and sported rips at the knees. Captain Levi would have a fit. But even his harsh words would sound heavenly compared to Bertholdt's.

You had just finished using the bathroom when a timid knock on the door caught your attention. You stepped over but didn't do anything. A second knock came suddenly and fiercely.

You opened the door, deciding that now was not the time to make Bertholdt angry. You needed to know more before you could even consider rebelling.

"(Y/n)! I missed you." Bertholdt couldn't contain the pink blush that flowered across his cheeks. "I... uh... I well... I made breakfast."

He was rubbing the back on his neck with his hand and biting his lip in nervousness. But you knew he was a monster. His innocent act wasn't going to fool you. You kept your lips shut.

"Come on, darling." He reached out and grabbed your wrist. His touch was delicate and apprehensive, holding your raw wrists as though they were made of crystal glass. You stepped behind him silently, letting him lead you, but giving him no trace of emotion.

He pulled out the wooden chair in the kitchen as motioned for you to sit on it. You noticed it was the same one that you were tied to last night. The fraying ropes were still lying at the bottom, looped between the legs. A grim reminder that you were trapped.

The smell of the food hit you before you saw it. Nothing smells quite as good as freshly cooked bread. It perked your senses as you inhaled further. You could hear the bread being ripped into slices by Bertholdt's strong, long fingers, you could hear the pull and rip of the fluffy insides breaking apart. Your mouth began salivating like crazy, as if the warm bread was already in your mouth. You smelt butter next. Butter was getting rarer, but nothing could beat the taste. You dared to look over to the kitchen bench where your food was being put onto a plate. You didn't even care that is was him who was touching your food, infecting it with his touch. You hadn't eaten for a day and two nights.

You saw Bertholdt place slices of cheese on the warm fresh-baked bread. This was way too much. Your hollow stomach gurgled loudly in anticipation.

Bertholdt, finished with the final preparations of the plate, walking over to you. He was smirking slightly, he had obviously heard your tummy's desperate plea.

"Hungry, darling?" He asked, teasing you. You nodded, meekly. Meek was good. If you gave him the power, he would learn to trust you. If you pretended like he broke you in, you'll be able to catch him off guard. You HAD to remember that. Your chances of escape depended only on your acting skills.

You reached for the bread and cheese before he had even laid the plate in front of you.

"No, (y/n)." He scowled, pulling your food back towards his chest. "You can't just grab from me. That's not how we play."

Your face fell. You were starved. You didn't have time for games.

"Please?" You were close to begging.

"Do you expect to feed you with nothing in return? You've caused little but grief for me." He muttered. "Say you love me and I'll give you some."

"I..." Damn it. I couldn't betray myself like this. There was a difference between acting like a victim and opening yourself up to becoming one. You mother always told you that if you're forced to say something over and over, you start to believe it. "I..." No. You needed to eat. You needed to survive. You needed to say the words.

"I'm waiting, (y/n)." He had dragged a seat to face you, only half a meter away from yours. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed he still had the cheese knife in his hands. Damn. He got dangerous when he knew he had an advantage.

"I..." Fuck. "I really appreciate that you made me food."

He slammed his fist on the table. With the other hand, he pointed the knife right under your chin. "One more word that I don't like and I'll slit your pretty throat, (y/n)." He dug the knife in so it broke the skin lightly to prove he wasn't bluffing. You could feel a drop of blood form and slide down your neck.

But did you really care? Dying was just as good as surviving, wasn't it? If you couldn't get home, death would be just as welcoming. You mouth stayed sealed.

"It won't be a quick death, I can tell you that. I didn't plan on taking you fully just yet, but I'd want to do that while you're still alive. While I can still hear you scream my name and beg for mercy. Then I'd kill you. Slow stab by slow stab." Bertholdt was smirking. He knew that you'd rather fuck a cactus than have him touch you.

"I love you." You whispered. As a solider you vowed to dedicate your life to the noble cause of humanity. There was nothing noble about dying from Bertholdt's knife thrusts, and the shame of letting yourself be used by a man like how Bertholdt planned was overwhelmingly shameful to even think about.  

He pulled the knife away and smiled. He looked so happy, so innocent. It made you want to vomit.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he placed some of the bread and cheese in your open mouth. The taste exploded in your mouth. The feeling of having food in your mouth again made you want to moan.

Bertholdt could see the glint of satisfaction in your eyes. He smirked. He noticed a small drop of your saliva on his finger from when he fed you. He rubbed it against his lips as he watched you chewing in ecstasy. He wanted to taste you and swallow you whole like you consumed your food. He wanted to crush you into submissiveness and hear you tell him how much you needed him, how much you loved him.

A small, dark chuckle erupted from Bertholdt as he observed his new little pet. He kept the kitchen knife in hand. It gave him confidence. He couldn't be nervous when he had you under threat. You had to obey his every command.

The last swallow felt so good as it danced down your throat. But you were still so hungry. You stomach was begging for more. You looked at the other slice of bread on your plate. You hesitantly moved your arm out to reach for it.

Bertholdt slapped your hand away, hard. His eyes narrowed in anger. "Only I feed you, (y/n). No one else. Not even yourself." He picked up the tantalizing food and waved it under your nose. You could smell the sharp cheese, the soft butter and fluffy bread. You wanted it more than you could say.

It was so close under your nose. Your mouth snapped for the bread before you could control it. Bertholdt pulled it back away from you fast and he smacked his hand harshly across your face. That was sure to leave a mark. You could feel blood pumping to the sight of impact already, probably forming a bruise.

"That's not how we play the game, (y/n)!" He snapped. The rope may have been harmless on the ground, but you were still tied. Bertholdt's livid expression calmed. He leaned closer to you. You could smell his sweat and the scent of burning firewood. "You're going to let me kiss you. And you're going to enjoy it. Then you get more food."

Your eyes widened in panic. The thought of his evil lips on yours horrified you. No. You swore you'd never kiss anyone who you didn't love. Kisses were between lovers, mothers and children, best friends... not him. Not monsters. You couldn't let him touch you romantically.

You were frozen. He took advantage of your shock and violently pressed his lips against yours. He moved one hand to clutch at your hair, disabling you from moving. His tongue swept across your bottom lip. God no, you were not going to let that bastard kiss you deeper. But he was demanding. Bertholdt used the knife in his hand to poke the sensitive skin on your waist. You squealed in shock from the sudden pain. The second your mouth opened, he shoved himself in. It was as though he had been hungering for your taste for longer than a lifetime. He was rough and angry. You couldn't get an image out of your mind, the image of a savage beast consuming you. He was eating you whole, deteriorating your worth and strength by the second. It was as though his tongue was violently searching your mouth for a weakness, another rope to tie you up, perhaps another knife to threaten you with.

No. You were a solider, god damnit, not a doll to be used.

You bit down hard on Bertholdt's eager tongue. You could feel your molars breaking the skin. You could taste the metal tang of blood filling your mouth.

Bertholdt pulled out quickly, a trail of saliva coming with him, joining your mouths together by a thread. "YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU WILL REGRET THAT, I SWEAR TO GOD!" He was screaming, his hand still in your hair. He pulled you up out of your chair by you (h/c) locks so you were face-to-face with him. He was so focused on verbally punching you, he hardly noticed your hand reaching out to swiftly collect the bread piece and shove it in your pocket.

Bertholdt threw you to the ground and kicked you until you were kneeling, looking up to him and pleading for him to stop. You noticed a line of bloody saliva trailing down his chin. You knew he'd be feeling that bite for days. "Do you know what I do to naughty pets, (y/n?!)" He barked at you. "Come on, I'll show you!"

Bertholdt began dragging you out of the kitchen by your hair. You scampered on your hands and knees after him, trying to relieve your pulled scalp. He was dragging you towards your bedroom. The worse scenario flashed in your mind. You were scared to death of him taking your virginity right here and right now. He was in such a rage, he'd probably get out his knife and kill you half way through.

You were semi-relieve when he pulled you past the bed. He threw you in the bathroom and closed the door. The impact of landing on the ground had winded you, and by the time you had recovered, you realized that Bertholdt had dragged the heavy dresser against the bathroom door, blocking any escape.

You heard his angry footsteps sulk away. You didn't know when he'd be back.


***

"Annie, what did you tell him?" Reiner asked quietly once he caught up to the small blonde, running to their meeting place at the fountain just outside of town.

"What we agreed on. Bertholdt didn't tell us anything. We had no idea." Her voice was bitter.

Reiner sighed. "But... do you think he did? Run away from it all, from us, I mean."

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Reiner. I bet he's in that fucking cabin in the woods. You know how he is. This whole situation makes him feel guilty as all hell. He's probably trying to live out that whole "normal life" fantasy away from us again. It wouldn't be the first time." Annie scrunched up her nose. "But what the hell does (l/n) have to do with it?"

"She has a good ass, Annie. Who could blame him for wanting to get some action."

Annie responded by swiftly kicking Reiner in the balls. "This is no fucking time for jokes. If she finds out... If he tells her... we'll all be fucked. We'll have to kill her, you do realize."

Reiner recovered pretty fast from having his vital regions abused.  "Maybe she's already dead. Maybe Bertholdt knocked her out, threw her on a horse, fucked her in the cabin and then killed her once he had his fun. She could be fertilizing his tomato garden now." Reiner snickered, still joking. It was his only way of coping, really. He actually enjoyed (y/n)'s presence. The thought of her dead sent sharp pain through his chest. But he had to cover it up for Annie's sake.

"I hope so. But I highly doubt it." Annie murmured.

"What?" Reiner felt some hope return.

"I'm just remembering. A couple months ago you told me Bertholdt was writing love letters, acting like a pussy and saying weird stuff. I reckon he loves (y/n)."

Reiner gulped. "So you think he's pulled (y/n) into his sick little game?"

"It seems likely." Annie sighed wistfully. "It's too bad. She wasn't half as stupid as the other humans."

Reiner couldn't help but look to his left. He saw the forest. He knew that he could be at Bertholdt's cabin in 3 hours if he had a fast enough horse. Maybe... maybe he could save you.