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#as if this job wasn't fucking draining enough
fuck-customers · 2 hours
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I'm so devastated
I LOVED this job when I first started 4 years ago. It was a bit tedious work but the culture of the company more than made up for it
I really felt like they cared. They looked out for us during the pandemic, sending care packages and organizing online social events that were actually fun.
The benefits were amazing, I was even able to get gender-affirming care through them, I came out as non-binary and it was welcomed!
It was truly a wonderful place to work.
And then the founder left. Retired to focus on his side business. And I felt it then, I knew things were going to go badly.
Sure enough, slowly but surely, things started to change.
They forced everyone into a hybrid model, even though before it was a choice to WFH. They did it in the name of culture and making meetings easier, but half my team is across the country. Most days I'm alone and I talk to nobody for all 8 hours.
They split my department in half, outsourcing 80% of the work to another company, who don't know how to handle the issues properly and it shows. Our customer satisfaction dropped SIGNIFICANTLY and I'm spending most of my day fixing mistakes the other company made.
Then they started backing these projects that everyone knew wasn't going to work, and sure enough, they didn't, and they laid off 20 people in the name of "being streamlined and nimble" (their exact words).
My husband (who worked at the same company in a different department) got fired because of an executive throwing a tantrum. It was either him or his whole team and he took the blame so they wouldn't all lose their jobs.
And because they swapped to a merit based raise increase (aka constantly be doing more work year over year) I haven't gotten a raise in 3 years and I barely get enough to cover our bills alone BARELY but my husband's unemployment is about to run out cause the gaming industry SUCKS and finding a job is really hard, and I'm not sure how we're going to get food.
I've been working every overtime and holiday shift they'll approve, but I'm also trying to lose weight so I can qualify for a necessary surgery, and I'm just so fucking exhausted all the damn time.
I hate this place. And it's so much worse because I used to love it. It used to be amazing. I used to think I would be there for a long time, at least until I got my own business up.
They crushed that dream too. Had to drain everything I'd saved up for it.
I hate them so much
Posted by admin Rodney
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always enjoy having a monday and a tuesday off... but i hate going back to work on a wednesday knowing i'm working every day till sunday... and i'm gonna vent in the tags so... i'm sorry.
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moon7jay · 8 months
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Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)
Read pt.2 here
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Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut
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Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.
He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.
He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.
He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.
He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.
"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.
Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.
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You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.
First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.
The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control
"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.
What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.
You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.
You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.
Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.
You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch
"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.
You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.
Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.
"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.
You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.
His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.
"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.
An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.
"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.
Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.
Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.
He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.
Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.
"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.
You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face
"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.
"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.
He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.
He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.
Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.
"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.
He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.
His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire
"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure
"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets
"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him
"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.
"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.
Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?
Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you
"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.
"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.
He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.
"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.
Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.
Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck
"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.
"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.
His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief
"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.
"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.
"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.
Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.
"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.
"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.
"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.
Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.
His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch
"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.
"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.
"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.
Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him
"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets
"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.
"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-
A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room
"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.
Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.
Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed
"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.
Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number
"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker
"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"
"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-
"It's a pussy"
Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.
The night was going to be so so long.
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"You," the hero whispered. "No."
It should have been enough for the villain to stop. To actually pull their hands away and stare into their enemy's eyes for more than just a second. It should have been enough for them to simply go the other way and ignore whatever their nemesis was dealing with.
But they couldn't. They had tried before. They had tried countless times. Over and over and over again with no use.
"Please," the villain whispered back. Their hands were shaking, right above the hero's open wound, right where they stared at the broken bone. "Let me do this."
"No," the hero said between labored breaths. "No. You can't just...you can't just show up here."
"Please..." The villain touched the hero's leg, carefully examining the rest of the bone that wasn't broken and the hero - stupidly so - pulled away, leaving them with a horrible stinging pain and a scream horrid enough to make the villain flinch.
Months ago, the villain would have laughed at that. They would have circled the hero and taunted, they would have played with them first. But the villain's desire for toying was long gone. Along with the satisfaction that would come with it.
"Listen, don't move, okay? You need to - we need to calm down," the villain tried but the hero didn't seem to be listening.
Their face was drained of all its color and the sweat ran down their forehead; the less obvious indications of their horrible physical condition. And then, of course, the thigh, the femur. Broken and bleeding. The villain had broken their own femur before.
It had left their leg nearly immovable for half a year.
"You fucking-" the hero hissed. "How dare you?"
The villain couldn't tell if their enemy was actually crying or if that was just the sweat. However, they understood quickly that the hero was, in fact, not very happy to see them.
Sometimes, the villain would dream of themselves as a hero. They would think about saving their enemy or saving the city. They would think about all those people cheering at them and being happy to see them.
They imagined what it would feel like to hear the hero whisper "thank you" into their ear and to read about their own heroics the next day. Sometimes, they really really wanted to be good and do good but more importantly, they wanted other people to see it. They wanted that affection, they wanted that jubilation.
But no matter what they tried, they screwed up most of the time. They acted to rash or not rash enough. They didn't make the choices a hero made and ultimately, they weren't like that. They could never be.
"You betrayed me," the hero said between sobs. "You left. You left me."
"Listen, please. I thought it was best for us. You were so unhappy with your job and-"
"Not because of you."
"I know, but I thought it would be easier for you if I-"
"It wasn't, okay?! It wasn't easy. It sucked, it fucking sucked," the hero nearly screamed. They stared at their thigh and tried to swallow some of the sobs but it didn't really lead anywhere. The villain knew the hero was tough but this tough? Staring at a wound and finding the energy to complain about their enemy leaving for three months - that kind of tough?
"Okay, I understand," the villain said. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for leaving. I just thought with me gone, you could relax more."
"I got assigned to other villains," the hero responded. They gestured towards their thigh. "Villains who do this."
"I understand, I am sorry." They stared at the hero whose bottom lip started to tremble.
"You left," the hero repeated. Their voice sounded strangely weak and all the villain could do was sit next to them and stare. "You just left. Just like that."
The hero snapped with their fingers. "...just like that."
"It wasn't easy for me either, if that's what you want to hear from me. It was horrible, I- I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. At night I would go outside and sit on a bench for hours, thinking. It wasn't easy. It wasn't..." The villain took in a deep breath. "I clearly made a mistake. I'm sorry. Just let me-"
"Don't do that to me," the hero said. The villain could feel a horrible feeling inside their guts, a horrible turning and toiling that made them almost vomit. The little trust the both of them had built between them had snapped like an overstretched rubber band and the villain could feel the grief behind it.
"Please, listen. You're important. You're more important than any of this and I sincerely, truly didn't want to hurt you." Their voice was shaking as much as their hands. They stared at the wound. Thankfully, whatever had done this to the hero had missed the femoral artery. That didn't change anything about the bone they could see clearly. Nor the amount of blood. "I never meant to hurt you, I...I admire you and, please trust me. Just one last time and after that you decide what happens with us."
The villain didn't expect anything. In fact, they couldn't think of a single action the hero might be able to come up with.
But then, the hero took their hand and squeezed their eyes shut.
"One last time," the hero said. "Get us out of here."
The villain obeyed perfectly.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
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agegap!reader x bruce is all I can think about
Just go through the motions.
Sitcoms are easy on kid's tv. Especially after you do a movie where you play the ghost of a murder victim. It's the last season. So it's surreal.
You suppose it's like the last few weeks of high school. With year books and stuff. You wouldn't know. And you don't think you're going to miss it really. Not most of it. For a lot of the kids it's their first job and they don't know what they'll do next. They have big dreams.
You're in talks for another movie. A rom-com now that you're going to be 18. And you don't know why you don't want to do it. It's just another movie- but something feels off. Your parents were a little vague on the details.
But. All you have to do is go through the motions.
______________________________
Bruce watches you on the soundstage. Watching another take of something he can tell that's emotionally draining for you. It's an argument between you and a character that plays your mother.
You're playing a 19 year old girl. Gritty drama. Poverty. It's Oscar bait. The type of movie he knows you don't like doing but you're doing it as a favor. And he wonders how close it is to what your life might have been if you hadn't "made it". If you hadn't had just the right look at just the right time.
He's not sure how many times you've done it today. But he's transfixed. Every word. Every gesture. He KNOWS there's marks that you're hitting and that you have lines. It's movie magic. But- When your voice cracks and the tears spill. When your hand slams down on the table and breaks a glass unexpectedly- a punctuation that wasn't in the script- prompting the director to yell cut; he can feel the collective exhale.
"I don't have to do that again do I?" you ask wiping your face on your sleeve.
"I don't think you could do it better if you tried," your co-star, a woman Bruce vaguely recalled was named Lynette said, standing up and walking with you off the soundstage.
"Maybe one more-" the director tried.
"Don't fuck with perfection, John," Lynette said, cheerfully. "10 damn takes is enough."
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vcill · 1 year
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✧🩷 Good Girl 🩷✧
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200 follower special <3 I love y'all sm ♡
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Diavolo →
Adjusting to RAD is never easy, with so many exams, having to deal with the demon brothers, baby knows how you feel and knows how stressed and pent you are.
Tell him all about how Mammon and Levi almost burnt down the science lab, and how he would've been able to put it out by how much he's making you squirt.
Angry that Satan got a higher score than you on a test? Take your anger out on him. Squeeze your thighs on his head, suffocate him and make sure he ain't breathing.
Uh oh! What's that tone you used towards the future king? That's not good at all. Don't worry, he'll fuck the sense back into you. A nice apology while fucking you still sounds perfect.
Him fucking and stuffing you so full that you forgot why you even had an attitude to begin with. Apologies being nothing but moan and whimpers while begging him to ruin you. ♡
Him telling you that you did such a good job today, such a good girl for him. Taking him all and not complaining. Draining him dry and making you soaked and full is the best thing a good girl could ever receive .
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Barbatos →
He only ever wants the best for you, so failing a test or being late to class isn't gonna make him mad at you.
Good girls know how to study, keep track of their test, when to fall asleep at a good time and not miss school. So really, you've been really bad. But owning up to your mistakes makes it almost better.
Studying for a math test should be easy as you count how many times you've both came. No, it wasn't 5, it was 8. Looks like you guys have to start over. Nope, him eating you out and fucking you is two different things! You don't add those together.
Unless you wanna be there all night, you better start learning.
Falling asleep and missing class? Mm mm. Go ahead and work yourself on his cock while he sits there an does nothing, you need to build your stamina after all. Surprise fuck when you're asleep? Need to always be aware of your surroundings, no excuse for letting your guard down.
Soon enough, you'll learn. You remember how many orgasms you've had, know how to keep working his cock without getting tired, and to properly prep yourself when it's time to get fucked by his cock at night.
Like a good girl, you learn how to do what you're told and be the perfect little fucktoy for the perfect butler.
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Solomon →
Being his sweet little apprentice, you'll gladly help in anything he might need. For example, he recently learned a new spell and needed a T̶e̶s̶t̶ s̶u̶b̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ volunteer. Of course, you willing took the part, not even asking what the spell is.
Soon enough, you learn. You feel hot, moist, and slightly dizzy. But most of all, you want dick. Sorcerer dick matter of fact. Looks like the spell works on anyone in the room, cause all Solomon wanted was that phat pussy.
Being railed on one of the desk in the room wasn't on your list today, but you're not complaining. Solomon using all his force and knocking the air out of you as he hits the spot you know and love. Watching your body jiggles from his thrust, drool drip for your cunt and mouth.
Oh this spell is really good. So good, maybe he should cast another, if it's okay with you of course. Your moaning is more then enough consent to proceed, as soon as he casted this one, you both felt so sensitive. His hand on your thighs making your pussy drip even more. Your nails scratching his back made him want to burst.
Ok ok, one more. Be a good girl and let him do his thing, alright? You can take some more. The aching in your legs seem to disappear as your mind goes blank, only thing you can think about is Solomon Solomon Solomon. All you want is him to fill you up and keep you feel. Keep milking him, make sure he can never fill back up again.
You both are so overstimulated but don't give a fuck, maybe this time you also cast a spell which makes both of you whine like crazy. Look at you learning to cast spells just like him, such a good girl you are.
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Simeon →
Simeon thinks you're always so good to him. Doing everything as you should, eating your breakfast, brushing your teeth, eating a good meal. What more can he ask?
Good girl deserve the best of course, go ahead and relax as he sucks that tasty pussy of yours. Continue doing your home work while he works his fingers inside of you. Don't worry about the mess your making, he'll clean it right up as long as you keep squirting for him.
How you take care of him when he's stressed, taking his cock whole while drool drips from your mouth. The little tears in your eyes look so beautiful as he makes you choke on it. Such a good girl taking him all! Want him to fuck you now? I bet you do! ♡
He only wants to do what you want him to do. You want him to move? How hard? Where do you want him to hit it? There? That feels good? I'm sure it does.
But he can't spoil you too much. You only get what you earned. You really think you're so slick adding on to the things you did today. You answered a question correctly in class, so you deserve to be fucked one more time. Better hope he doesn't figure out you lied about a few things. Good girls don't lie, rightttt?
When you finish, he lays beside you, telling you how pretty his baby girl is. Asking you if you can do it again tomorrow and how you better promise that you will. His good girl always keeps her promises!
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moongreenlight · 8 months
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Nanny!Reader x John Price hnnnnngh
Tw/Cw: Cheating, mentions of drug use and abuse.
@ceilidho put the words ‘marriage kink’ and ‘ambiguous gray blob wife’ into my head and it has been eating away at my psyche for DAYS.
The Maddie from Euphoria of it all, honestly.
Getting the job through a Craigslist ad because it pays better than some of the office jobs you’d been perusing and it comes with free housing and a car to use? It’s a no brainer.
The kids are alright. Spoiled, but not entirely obnoxious. They’re school-age, so you really only deal with them for breakfast and a few hours after school. Their mother is absent. Some sort of philanthropist who travels for work and prefers to jet-set instead of sitting home. Their father is lovely. Truly picture perfect.
He only brought you on because he couldn’t step away from work, and he wouldn’t hear of sending his children to some daycare. Too impersonal. He prefers to get to know the person raising his cubs. He’s sweet like that.
John doesn’t expect much of you. Decently tidy house. Well-tended kin. A pot of coffee in the morning before he’s off to work, and a hot supper if he’s home late.
Leaves you to your own devices while the kids are at school. What’s his is yours. At first, you mainly stuck to your quarters and the living room, but after so long, you got a little lax.
Started wandering the house. Awfully fucking big for a philanthropist and a military man with three kids, but you’re not one to speculate. You try out the hot tub. The jacuzzi bath in the primary en-suite bathroom. The home gym in the basement.
Even that gets boring after some time. Too routine. So you get adventurous. Get your paws on the mother's medicine cabinet. Take a cocktail of her nearly expired prescriptions and take a few hours to yourself in the bath.
You must have fallen asleep, because the snap of a door closing makes you jerk your head up off the cold rim of the tub.
"Hello?" You're trying to figure out who exactly would be home. Scrambling to yank the plug out of the drain with one hand and track down your phone with the other. Suddenly very worried you slept through school pickup.
But when your pruny fingers finally swatted at the screen hard enough, you were grateful to see you'd only really dozed off for twenty minutes or so. Still no response even though you were fairly certain you heard the door come from somewhere upstairs with you.
"Someone home?"
The drain was loud. A dead giveaway of your neglecting your job. Gargling as it sucked away the evidence of your lavender-scented bath. What's worse? You'd forgotten a towel. Mind fogged by some desperate housewives-adjacent combination of stimulants and muscle relaxers.
You nudged the bathroom door open with a dripping wet toe, poked your head out to see what was going on. Seeing nobody, you decided that maybe you were just hearing things. Just the house settling.
So you inched forward, cringing at the trail of wet footprints you were leaving on the carpet of John's bedroom floor. You made a mental note to tidy those somehow before you went to get the kids. It wasn't until you were out on the walk over the living room that you heard someone clearing their throat in the kitchen.
It made you whirl your head around, scrambling to cover your modesty as best you could. Maybe it was a contractor? John had a bad habit of not reminding you that his buddies were coming over to do some project or another.
"That how you dress when you've got the place to yourself?"
You wouldn't be so lucky.
"J-John?"
A chuff from just beyond the wall downstairs. Strategically positioning himself where he could see, but wouldn't be seen.
"I-I didn't know you'd be home. God- I'm so sorry."
You weren't sure if it was better to run to your room or stay where you were. This was uncharted waters, after all.
A tsk, like he was sucking his teeth to keep the smile from creeping into his voice.
"In my room?"
Your mouth is painfully dry. You can't even manage to swallow.
"I'm so sorry, John. So sorry."
"Why don't you dry off and then we'll chat?"
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st-el-la-luna · 8 months
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It's Not Enough: Captain John Price x Reader
(sorry for vanishing I am mentally unwell)
An injury leaves the Task Force's Captain unable to do all that he usually does. You're more than happy to help.
NSFW 18+
➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns, described as "pretty" once), Price is readers boss, pillow fucking, desperate almost subby Price
unedited, written on mobile in Spanish class
part two
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It wasn't fair to say that the mission went south. It's not like the Task Force failed it or anything. You guys secured the intel you needed and cleared the base no problem.
Except there was a problem. Your intel on the enemy operation had been spotty and it turns out the enemy was more prepared than you all had been lead to thought.
Sitting silently in the back of the truck you all quietly lick your wounds. Soap had been stabbed, "'tis just a scratch," he had announced before taking out three men with an improved explosive. (Ghost hit him for that one) (the Shakespeare reference. Not the bomb). Gaz and Ghost both were shot, the former in the knee and the latter, grazed on the neck by a bullet that very well could have killed him. You got a little too close to a grenade and now your ears are ringing and you're covered cuts and scrapes from the shrapnel, bits of metal still embedded in your skin.
Price got it the worst though. One of the enemy soldiers managed to sneak up on him. This hulking, unit of a man who made Ghost, Ghost, look like a gangly teen.
You always wondered how Ghost, being as big as he is, could move so quietly so quickly. This enemy soldier made you think that maybe you were just loud and slow.
Not a single person realized that the soldier was there until it was too late. He tackled Price, knocking the gun from his hands then threw him, literally threw him, like a doll, over the catwalk ledge.
Price was lucky though, in a sense, because he crashed to the ground close enough to you and Gaz that you could provide him cover.
He was unlucky, or maybe just stupid, because he tried to catch his fall. His fall from three stories up.
With his hands.
Never have you heard bones snap so loud.
You glance across the truck at him. He's breathing slowly and deliberately, self-soothing. His hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching occasionally, but otherwise motionless.
"Hey, look on the bright side, Captain," you say with a crooked grin, blinking away the blood dripping from a gash above your eye. "At least you won't have to do any paperwork for a while."
"Won't be able to jack off either," Soap adds with a crow of laughter. "Poor lil John's gonnae be black and blue... Won't even be able to feel the pain in yer hands over the straining of your–"
"That'll do!" Ghost snaps, ever the one to keep Soap in line.
It's quiet for the rest of the way back to base. It's quiet as you all head to medical for treatment. You're all drained, happy with a job well done, but exhausted from, well, everything.
Tired and sore, you decide to forgo dinner in order to catch some extra sleep. You're walking through the halls when you pass by Price's office.
The door is cracked open, which is unusual, and a rhythmic sound tumbles out into the hallway. A blend between panting and grunting.
He groans out a frustrated, "Fucking... Ah... Fucking hell!"
"Captain?" You ask hesitantly, knocking on the door. You hear shuffling inside, the rustling of cloth, soft jingle of metal. "I, uh... Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," he grits out, breathless and frustrated. "I'm just..." More rustling. "Fuck!"
"Can I come in?" You ask, already opening the door.
He doesn't say no. In fact, he doesn't say anything. Until you've got the door open and are left staring at the scene before you.
"I didn't want anyone seeing me like this..." He grumbles.
He's standing behind his desk, both hands and forearms in casts. He's struggling with a zip up hoodie, tangled in the fabric as he tries to put it on.
You fight back the urge to laugh and succeed. You fight back the urge to smile and fail. "Want some help with that, Captain?"
"Please."
This continues for the duration of his injury, him coming to you for help with tasks he can't do himself. For as long as he's in those casts, you're at his beck and call.
It's not uncommon for you to be called away from some mundane task to help the Captain with something equally mundane. But hey, at least you get to spend time with your Captain.
Your handsome, rugged, often flushed as of late, Captain.
You're captain whose casts you've wrapped before he can shower. Whose shirts you've helped put on. Whose hair you've brushed. Beard you've combed. Whose-
You keep having to tell yourself that this doesn't mean anything. The only reason he comes to you and no one else is because, well, he doesn't want anyone else seeing him like this.
So what if he blushes when you help secure his belt around his hips? Or when your fingers graze his neck as you button his collar. So what if once or twice while youve helped him dress your hand has brushed his cock (and oh, it's big), and it's jumped to attention. It's a natural reaction, really. Price never even mentions it. He's probably embarrassed. Ashamed. Nothing more to it.
But what if...?
No. You tell yourself sternly. Bad. That's your boss.
But...
He has been calling on you more. Has been standing closer. Leaning in when you speak. Burying his nose into your hair before you leave his room and inhaling through his nose, then shutting the door on you, leaving you a little dazed and more than a little confused in the hall.
Still. It doesn't mean anything. You've just never spent this much time with him. Maybe this is normal.
You're in the armory with Soap and Gaz when your phone goes off in your pocket. Price is calling.
"Captain?" You ask, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continue to clean your rifle. "Everything okay?"
"I know I told you I wouldn't need anything until later, but I... I need your help," he says, his voice gruff and rumbling. "Now."
Soap mimes a blow job and Gaz snickers, shouldering him playfully.
"Could have called anyone, Captain," Soap calls out loud enough for Price to hear through the phone. "What is it you need help with that only our pretty little Corporal can do? Hmm?"
"Shut up, Soap," Price grumbles.
"Captain says to shut up, Johnny," you relay to Soap. He laughs.
"I need your help," Price repeats, his breath stuttering slightly.
"Alright," you say, setting the rifle down. "What with?"
"I'm..." his words are cut off by a groan and the sound of shuffling, followed by something clattering to the floor. "Fuck... I'm trying to..." He pauses, breathing heavy. "Tryna trim my beard and I.. Just get over here quick."
"Aye, sir. I'll be in your office soon."
"Not my office. My quarters."
You pause, holding the phone properly now. "I... Your quarters, Captain?"
Soap snickers, and thrusts his hips into the air a couple times. You flip him off.
"Yes," he says. "It's where I keep my products."
"Right, of course," you shake your head. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Good," he says, letting out a breathy sound through his nose. "I can't deal with this any longer..."
"Your beard has gotten scruffy," you muse.
"I... Just... Hurry." He hangs up.
"Getting out of work early again, huh?" Gaz asks with a grin. "Or should I say getting off work early?"
"Not you too," you whine, flipping the pair of them off as you leave the room.
You don't catch what Soap says, his words muffled by his accent and the closing door. Judging by the raucous laughter that breaks out when he's done, you figure that might be for the best.
You get to Price's room and knock, waiting a beat before turning the knob. "Hey, Captain, just a heads up, I've never actually trimmed a beard before but I–"
You stare at the scene before you with wide eyes, blood rushes to your cheeks as your jaw drops.
"Close the door," Price grunts, staring up at you from his place on the bed. On his knees, forearms braced against the mattress, his face red, jaw slack as he lets out rhythmic pants and groans.
You don't dwell on it. Instead, your attention is drawn to the clumsy, desperate movement of his hips as he ruts desperately against his pillow. His pillow which is covered in... Is that one of your workout shirts?
"I... Captain?!" You squeak in surprise, taking a slight step back.
"Soap was right," he grumbles, humping and grinding and moaning into the pillow. Into your shirt. Your shirt. This is happening. This is real. Price inhales deeply through his nose, his tongue lolling out. "Haven't... Haven't been able to... It's... I... It hurts, i... I thought this would... it worked before but i... It's not... not enough, I.. Help... Please."
Slowly, hesitantly, you shut and lock the door behind you. "Oh, so you've done this before?" You quirk a brow as you approach his bed. "Fucked into your pillow like a desperate whore thinking it was me?"
He whines, actually whines, and his hips falter for a second before speeding up. With each forward stroke of his hips you can catch a glimpse of his cock. Thick and red and painfully hard, dripping so much precum it looks like he's already cum before you got here. "Don't... Don't tease me, Corporal... Don't forget who's in charge here."
"Seems to me, Captain, that I'm the one in charge here," you hum, slowly kneeling on the bed. He looks up at you through his sweaty fringe, his breaths hot and wet when they fan against your skin. "I mean, you're the one who needs help, after all... You're the one whose job could be on the line... I doubt the higher ups would be thrilled to find you like this, all backed up and desperate for one of your soldiers?"
His eyelids flutter, he bites his lips muffling a growl that crescendos into a moan when you cradle his face. "Stop, I... I just... It hurts..."
"I'm sure it does," you hum sympathetically, running a hand through his hair. "Been too long, hasn't it?"
He keens and leans into your touch, drool dribbles from his lips. "I... Weeks, may, ah, maybe a month... Or longer... I-I need it... Please."
"Well, that just won't do," you tut, shaking your head in mock sympathy. You tighten your grip on his hair and he bows, arching his back like it's his job. "Just look at you, Captain..."
He whines and you shush him gently, hand sliding from his hair to cup his jaw and chin, forcing him to look up at you. "Don't worry, Captain... I plan to do a lot more than just stare..."
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wordy-little-witch · 3 months
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Ya know what occurs to me?
Karai Bari is in the New World.
Crocodile and Mihawk only showed up after the establishment of the delivery service.
Buggy was in Paradise. Marineford would have been in Paradise, I think, or at least Buggy's crew still was.
He doesn't have conquerors to cross the calm belt.
So... to get to the New World and set up shop, he'd have to have gone through Fishman Island, wouldn't he? So he'd had to have gotten the ship coated.
He'd likely have had to face Rayleigh or at least he'd have anticipated it - maybe Shanks even mentions Rayleigh hanging around there, maybe even mentioning him having NEVER missed Shanks passing through....
So when Buggy goes when Buggy expects to be found and claims to be dreading it and is but is also so hopeful so scared so broken so hesitant he's got a few different courses figured for how this will go down.
Only.... Rayleigh isn't there. Shakky is. She just directs them to another coater. Buggy fights himself, wants to ask, doesn't want to beg, and-
Shakky answers the question he couldn'tdislodge from his throat. "Sorry, baby blue, Ray's just working on something real important. You know how it is."
He does. He does know how it is. Important, huh? That's fine. It's probably a job. It's probably not that big of a deal that dad master Rayleigh is preoccupied. Buggy shouldn't have expected the man to drop everything and come running why did he think that, Rayleigh never did it before, not even Shanks' assurance he'd leave a message for Rayleigh would change much, and fuck he can't afford to cry so-
So Buggy gets the ship coated. It's not as pricy as he'd worried. He navigates them down, can even bring himself to smile at the wide eyed wonder from the rest. It's nice. He's fine here - these are his people. He's okay, really, and he'll be able to let this go or shove it into that nameless box in his head and heart soon enough. He just has to ride the wave, you know-?
Only no. Not really. Because a newspaper lands in his hands. And his brain is racing.
Because Rayleigh wasn't at Sabaody at all. He was with Strawhat. He was training Strawhat. He showed up, after the war, so close to the conflict, to train the kid. Rayleigh is fast, but not that fast. He'd have to have left around a week before Buggy even arrived. Shanks had assured him Rayleigh was there when he dropped by ((two weeks ago)). He knew because his brother had wrapped him in his arm and tears were shed, voices were raised and hearts were broken, wounds torn open to drain the festering rot and the healing hurt, it hurt then, it hurts now, it will hurt and hurt and hurt, because Buggy had pushed the Big Top to her near limits just to reach the archipelago that his former guardian ex-father previous family that Rayleigh called home. Shanks had called him, said he'd dropped the message and Rayleigh had chuckled and nodded and Buggy wanted to see his dad because there were still so many scars that had to be seen and acknowledged and Buggy himself wasn't even fully recovered physically but emotionally he had to do it, had to take the step and try because vulnerability brought the best and worst of him out, because he lost a brother and gained him back and he wanted for his father, at least one of them.
But Strawhat was on that front page. And Rayleigh was behind him, smiling, warm, proud, happy, and - Buggy aches. He's angry. He's livid. A week or so, by his estimate, for Rayleigh to find him and get there to the war ground. A week or so because Rayleigh was old but he was still painfully fast. In a week or so, the older man hunted down a boy he'd possibly met once or twice in passing. A week or so and The Dark King showed up to bring another strawhat wearing monster of epic proportions under his wing, had made impressive time in finding the kid, making the plan, getting to the navy hq, getting out, and that's accounting for the article writing, printing, and distribution.
A week or so to find a bright little sunshine boy he barely knew when one he raised rotted in a cell for months on end.
Busy with something real important, he recalled Shakky saying.
His chest burned for a moment, hot and wild and unyielding - and just as suddenly, the fire was gone. He was tired. He was so fucking tired. His injuries throbbed, his head hurt, his scars itched. He sighed, set the paper aside and curled impossibly small into his chaise lounge with a teary chuckle as he gripped his hair and tried to silence the keen building in his chest. He cursed himself for it, bitter and angry.
After all, he should be used to being outshined, out classed and out loved by energetic boys with bright smiles in little wicker crowns.
Story of his life
He is unaware of the many eyes on him, of the people Plotting and Arranging things on their own time. Their captain is the best - uncommon, unexpected, temperamental though he is, he is everything everyone needs him to be because it's the only thing he knows how to do. They see the seams in his mask and performance, and they ache to pay back the pain left on their captain, their boss, their leader and friend. Buggy pirates stick together, freaks and weirdos united - and nobody is allowed to hurt their captain without some serious followup.
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faith369 · 9 months
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I just love your dbf!sugardaddy!Price fics it’s living in my head rent free rn🤭🤭
Any I was wondering if you can make one where the reader is having a showers and price accidentally walks in.
It can be smut or fluff, your choice really
Take your time and have a fun time writing❤️
A/N: glad that you like my stuff, was in the mood for some fluff with this one
Normally, showering helped you wash off any remains of stressful days, but not today for some reason. Maybe it was because Price wasn't here, you knew that his job protected people, but you selfishly hated the fact that it made him have to leave you for longer periods of time. You were tired - too tired to grab the shower gel he bought you. You were awake enough however to stand unmoving under the water. Being all tangled up in your feelings and thoughts, you didn't hear Price opening the front door downstairs, nor did you hear him stepping up the stairs to open the bathroom door. You turned at the familiar sound of the bathroom door creaking, worried for a second that someone had broken in. "Price,“ a high-pitched squeak, left you in surprise and somewhat embarrassment he had seen you naked before, yet you still felt self-conscious at times for no reason this man adores every inch of you. "Fuck didn't mean to interrupt you, love.“ But instead of leaving, he just quietly stripped himself of his clothes and stepped in the shower. He holds in when he sees the drained look on your face “You okay love?“ You contemplated lying to him, he just came home,and was probably exhausted, you didnt want bother him with your silly problems but you knew he‘d notice “Just a bit tired and stressed.“ His eyes softened almost immediately at your words, he knew you were immediatly it wasn't just a bit. “Turn around,“ you did as he said, and suddenly felt his rough hands on your body spreading the strawberry gel over it with soothing movements that eased your muscles, the stress you had washing down the drain alongside the water. When everything was washed off your body, he turned off the shower. "John, what about y-“ "shhh wanna make you feel good.” As he grabbed a towel, you felt the tiredness settle even deeper in your body, sinking into the depths of your brain. John, deciding you'd probably hit your head if he let you walk into the bedrooms, lifted you up from the floor bridal style to lay you asleep. His presence lulled you to into dreams, giving him the chance to admire you before he himself finally found rest alongside you.
-Requests are open <333
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puripurin · 13 days
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Yan! Llama Hybrid x SheepHybrid! Reader
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— Recently, on the farm, a bunch of coyotes and wolves started to snag some sheep hybrids into the woods when they would get too close to the fences. It has gotten so bad that they would do it in broad daylight.
The owners decided that they would introduce a new addition to the herd to combat the coyotes. A male Llama named Lumi. All of the sheep were skeptical at first because they all thought that it was a little odd that the new sheep would have such a long neck and a lot bigger in size, but soon enough, they couldn't help but warm up to him.
Lumi, on the other hand, was still in his awkward phase. He'd recently entered into adulthood and was feeling sad and lonely without his parents there to guide him, but it wasn't until he saw your gorgeous curls and your small little tail that wagged in excitement. Just in that moment, he'd decided to be your life-long mate and started the process of courting you.
You did not give a shit about Lumi. You only cared about the coyotes that ate the rest of the flock. You wanted to start making sacrifices to grow your cult of small critters such as squirrels and rabbits.
This was because you heard from a passing by sheep hybrid that was being transported to another farm about how you could obtain everything you wanted if people devoted their lives to you.
However, you didn't expect Lumi to be so dedicated to you that he'd easily deciphered your messages to your devout followers and your weekly gatherings.
As you walked out of the dead of night, with the intention of killing a coyote that night. But it was oddly still, as if it was waiting for something. The trees didn't ruffle against each other, and the cool wind was nowhere to be seen
You stiffened up and silently walked back. If one of the other sheeps found out about this whole cult thing you had going on, you'd be ousted and killed by the coyotes instead.
But, you were immediately thrown down and turned over. Your eyes widened in panic and started to attack the person who held you down silently, only to realize that blood was dripping on your face.
"My love, I've killed one of those tainted and unpure coyotes for your sacrifice. I would hate to see your delicate hands get stained with something unworthy of your desire... but why... Why do you yearn and look at someone else with interest other than me? ... Only I shall be your eyes and ears, my love..."
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Random and barely edit post after months of not posting. I was watch yt shorts and i came across a video abt guard llamas w sheeps. Its been on my mind for 3 weeks and i started this 2 weeks ago. I only decided now to finish it.
You can see the point where i went fuck it because i had no idea what to do with the reader's background so i was like "Ooh maybe they want to smash the coyotes... what's close to smashing coyotes... Cult." Cult leader YN it is.
Anyways below is for the rest of people who want to know what happened after that incident.
I feel better about my dog's death, but we weren't able to get him back due to the poor weather and the fact he was last seen in a drain. So there wasn't a proper burial, but I'm happy that we didn't end up with 2 losses. We had them since they were puppies, and its upsetting that the younger one died, but i understand why they had to kill him.
He's a dangerous breed of dog even though he's docile most of them time. He was a cane corso, and my older dog is a rottweiler and pitbull mix. So not the most safest dogs to be around, but what are you gonna do when your country is busy locking up a man for money laundering bcs they shit at their jobs.
Right, if I'm not lazy enough, I'll go back and redo every one of my ocs bcs im on the verge of deleting them all from embarrassment. Then that will hopefully be a small week long event for my tumblr as im not used to those things. But this might take months.
Also, no won't do kinktober, im lazy, and smut isn't my forte. Anyways bye-bye, see yall when my coffin feels too stuffy~
(soz if this is shit as well bcs i didn't do a whole lotta explaining abt Lumi's behavior)
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kittenfangirl20 · 25 days
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Experiment x Scientist Au
Adam sighed rubbing his tired eyes, being a scientist wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Since his divorce with Eve he just threw himself into his job and his employers were more than happy to pile on the workload.
They even offered him a room in his lab so he wouldn't have to commute to work and could just get right to it once he made his morning coffee.
Currently he was doing up some paperwork from the massive pile on his desk, he needed to make a dent in it of Michael would have his fucking head.
Speaking of Michael, his boss came in and handed him a folder.
Michael: We need a weapon.
Easy enough.
Adam: Okay.
Michael: A living weapon. A demon like us that can be the ultimate weapon.
Adam: That will take a lot of time.
Michael narrowed his eyes: You have no longer than six months. And make it a male with no second gender, no need for the need to mate to hinder him.
Adam nodded, they only wanted a living weapon to be deadly and obedient.
Adam: Yes sir.
Michael: Well what are you waiting for Dr. Kadmon? Get to it.
With that he left Adam to plan out what this weapon would look like and what powers he would have.
*Adam worked through the months studying the DNA samples he was given, they would be formed from both Demon DNA and Angel DNA, as the being was formed in the tube Adam noted that he was beautiful, blonde hair, white skin, and red circles on his cheeks, horns came from his head and he had six red and white wings*
Adam: You shall be named Lucifer Morningstar.
*inside the tube Lucifer was listening to the scientist that was called Dr Kadmon, when they were alone Adam would talk to him and he would learn much of his life, his heightened senses told him that Dr Kadmon had the parts of a man and a woman, even though he fathered children, he hadn’t become a mother yet, he trembled in excitement at the thought of taking Adam as his mate and having Adam carry his children, but another part was telling him that he wasn’t built to mate even though he wanted to, it only took five months for Lucifer to be created, in spite of his short height, Lucifer was the most powerful demon ever, just then the fluids from the tube were drained and the tube was lowered down*
Adam: Wake up Lucifer.
*Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, they were red and yellow, he looked at a man dressed as a scientist with lamb like features with gold eyes and short brown hair, his body was covered short velvety fur and he had black wings and wings were rare for demons, he also had large black and gold horns, he lunged at Adam ready to attack*
Adam: Lucifer, it’s me, Adam.
*Lucifer grabbed Adam’s face and smelled the scent of Dr Kadmon*
Lucifer: Adam……… Kadmon?
Adam: Yes, that is my name, let me take you to who you will be working for now.
*Lucifer tilted his head, hearing this*
Lucifer: My master?
Adam: Yes, your master, his name is Michael.
*Adam held out his hand, Lucifer took it and jumped off the platform, he was dressed in a skin tight black body suit that showed off his lean yet muscular figure, Lucifer refused to let go of Adam’s hand as he was led through the facility, many of the other demons cowered in fear at the sight of Lucifer hoping they wouldn’t catch his attention because he could attack and kill them, Lucifer was led into the office of Michael who was sitting at the desk*
Adam: Here is the new weapon.
Michael: Why is he so short?
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
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misseviehyde · 10 months
Text
SHE GLOVES IT
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Lauren found the latex gloves in her dead step-mom's 'bitch box' - that secret box of slutty sex toys that her cruel, spoiled, step-mom had kept in her bedroom.
They were long black opera gloves - shiny and black, each one long enough to reach to her upper arms. There was something 'compelling' about them and she found herself stroking them and shivering at how good they felt.
Of course; she was supposed to be clearing Monica's things out of the house not playing with gloves. Her sisters Sarah and Rose were busy helping too but her Dad was too upset to assist.
Lauren wasn't upset though. She wasn't glad that Monica had died in a car accident, but she wasn't sad either. That cruel and heartless bitch had gotten what she deserved.
Curious - Lauren took her hand and slid it inside a glove. Pushing it inside she shivered at the delicious feel of the latex engulging her hand. The glove was skin tight and as she pushed her hand into the fingers and worked them in, she enjoyed the sensation of the rubber material against her skin.
The glove extended down her arm. She noted the fingers were slightly tapered, then remembered Monica had always sported long sexy nails. These must be a custom job.
Stroking her face feverishly with her latex hand, Lauren groaned. Why did it feel so fucking good?
Picking up the other glove she eagerly pulled it onto her other arm. After a few minutes adjustment - she was now latex clad and she loved how wicked and hot the gloves made her look.
What was wrong with her? This wasn't how she usually behaved!
Suddenly she heard a voice behind her and turned to see her older sister Rose. She was in her early thirties, bossing it over the two much younger women. Rose always thought she knew best and wasn't shy of telling her sisters about their inadequacies.
"Lauren. What the hell do you think you are doing? Take off those ridiculous gloves. Were those... Monica's?"
Striding across the room with an imperious expression - Rose towered over her shorter sister and folded her arms under her bigger breasts. "I thought today of all days we might be able to rely on you to be helpful. Take those off at once."
Lauren felt an unusual sensation of defiance swell inside her. Wearing the gloves was making her feel different. She felt far more confident than usual. But more than that... there was a strange... hunger. The gloves on her arms seemed to tingle and as she looked at her older sister Lauren felt the hunger grow.
So bossy... so busty... so confident.
Before she knew what she was doing Lauren was reaching out and gripping Rose's head in her latex hands. "Kneel," she commanded.
To her amazement Rose obeyed and her hands now on either side of her sisters head - Lauren began to feed.
She didn't know how she did it - but the gloves power was now instinctive. She could feel the traits and attributes she hungered for in her sister and all she needed was skin contact to drain them.
"Yesssssss yesssssss give it all to me you bitch."
"N...nooooo," gasped Rose. "Lau.. Lauren what are you doing to me?" But Lauren wasn't listening anymore.
Lauren moaned like a slut as she drained her sister and sated her hunger. She breathed in and groaned feeling a delicious energy sucking up through the gloves and filling her up. She sucked and she sucked, draining the attributes she hungered for.
Confidence filled Lauren. A bossy powerful confidence that only comes with age and maturity. Lauren began to grow taller, her sisters height diminishing as Lauren's latex fingers twisted into her hair and her eyes rolled up into her head.
Being drained felt wonderful too. At first Rose had panicked, but now as her sister slurped out her personality and physical attributes a wonderful calm filled her.
Lauren's mouth was open, her head thrown back. Her nipples were hard and her pussy dripping as she felt bones crack and pop. She was getting older and sexier as she drained Rose's age and confidence. She now looked like a woman in her thirties or early forties with an assured cock to her hip and a self possessed confidence that shone through.
"Ohhh yes. I feel so fucking strong and powerful. Now... give me those fucking tits," hissed Lauren with demonic glee as her hands tightened around her sisters head.
Moaning in orgasmic bliss, Lauren drained her sisters tits. They deflated even as her own magnificent rack expanded outwards, causing her clothing to rip and tear.
Her sisters age, confidence and tits drained - Lauren felt the hunger recede and she let go of her now flat chested younger looking sister.
Rose was now a boyish looking girl and also a nervous anxious wreck. She bit her hair and looked up at her sister in worship. Being drained seemed to leave the other person completely in thrall. Lauren liked it.
"My body needs a new outfit," growled Lauren inspecting her ripped clothing in annoyance. "Something to make me look like a Goddess." Striding to the Bitch-Box she smirked as she pulled out a latex corset and boots to match her new gloves.
Unconcerned, she stripped naked and then squeezed into the outift. Admiring herself in the mirror she clopped effortlessly over to Rose and stroked her face. "Now I look like a true Goddess."
In fact now she looked just like an evil dominatrix. In fact she looked rather like Monica used to look.
She was considering draining Rose again when suddenly Sarah, the other sister, walked in and her mouth dropped open as she saw her transformed sisters.
Sarah was the brightest of the sisters. She was super smart, with an Oxford degree. She had also inherited their mothers silky raven hair. Both Lauren and Rose had mousy brown hair and Lauren had always been jealous of her sisters hair.
She felt the hunger begin to rise.
Sarah backed away as her sister approached with a clop of heels.
"I don't know what the fuck is happening here, but keep away."
Lauren just smiled a hungry look in her eyes. "Rose... hold her."
Backing away had put Lauren near Rose. Suddenly the other woman leapt up and pinned Sarah's arms behind her back. Before she could break free, latex hands were on either side of her head and she heard a voice she could no longer resist tell her to kneel.
"Fuckkkk yes. I want your brains. I want to be so fucking smart no one can stop me. Give me ALL of your knowledge."
Lauren was practically cumming as Sarah began to drool. Sarah's eyes rolled back into her head as her evil sister drained her smarts. Drooling and giggling her IQ reverted to that of a dumb bimbo as Lauren smiled a wicked grin of victory.
"My mind is expanding... mmmmh oh yes, I feel so much smarter and capable now. "
"Like you're like sooooo clever," giggled Sarah now a happy idiot as her sister removed her hands from her second thralls head. She gazed adoringly up.
Long black raven hair now fell around the Goddesses perfect face. She finally had all the attributes she wanted from her sisters.
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"Come then girls," smiled Lauren after finishing admiring herself. "There's nothing else left at this house for me to take. Let's head out into the world and find more people for me to drain."
Walking off with a clop of heels, her obedient thralls in toe - Goddess Lauren set off.
She was the bitch now and she loved it.
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starrbright · 3 months
Text
𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐒 || 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄
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Creatures of nightmares that crawl from nothing to land he's dealt with for so long, he himself bounded to those, unthinkable abilities he wields; he never questioned reality. But there's an impenetrable sense of high he's in as he fixes in your softness, it doesn't feel real. It's peaceful, he thinks that is what dreaming is.
Kishibe finds his demise not to be of devils, fiends, wars—not even of death.
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images used: X | X
April 2023 - April and June 2024. about fucking time. to the ones that encouraged me to start writing for csm, i'm truly so sorry for the long delay. when i started this piece for him, i was focused and suddenly i wasn't and a lot kept happening and i didn't want to touch this until i was on it entirely, i wanted this to be perfect, so i shelved it. and i hope the waiting does the justice. the lack of works for this anime with us fat readers is what started this all and you encouraged me, so thank you for that🙇🏽‍♀️🙏🏼. writing the end of this was so difficult, i'm so sorry again this kept delaying.
if you've read the manga or watched the show, you may have noticed or not—and that i've only realized i didn't address reader's contract with devils in the previous works in this series and in this one, the case is still the same 😁 because, honestly, i just forgot about it. apologies for that
nearing 8k words. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color. Reader is in 50's. with two children. a ten and four years old. divorced. ex-devil hunter. kishibe hums a lot here because he does that a lot. he barely talks as well, that's how i headcanon him, i just can't see him saying too many things that wouldn't be from someone like him🙁 slight slowburn. a tiniest tinge of crack. one thing about me in my works is i will always inject my pride in my characters! masturbation. light sparring. spit play? pussy eating. fucking.
I'll be disappearing for a while for another work, this drained me. enjoy!!! as always, thoughts are more than welcome!! thank you💌
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On routine, that's how Kishibe's life was, all the same everyday. Even in the unusual situations with his job, all the same as well; natural. He's not sick of it, no. He's just....bored. Sure, he gets laid most of the time, but that, too, was routine. Funny thing to say for an old man like him, who has nothing going on in his life, on purpose, chooses to be.
Though just to say the least, he's quite getting sick of the boredom. But he doesn't do anything about it, there was nothing to come across his mind. So instead, his fate did it for him.
Delivering him something new, and that something was someone.
Someone moving into the building where he lives, in the top floor he's in, no less. In a building where it looks so lonely because it was a bit far away from the city and only a few buildings were surrounded by the place. It's literally lonely, one could say, because there are only three tenants in it and he's already included among them--and said three tenants don't know each other, let alone have crossed paths before. He preferred it that way.
For probably enough time that one could bear until they went mad, it was like that.
Until it was broken off by you.
And what's new is that you're there standing in the elevator with enough bags that one could carry sitting on the floor.
You know each other. He knows you. Only a few years younger late when you got in the division from him. Never worked with you but still knew of each other. One of the reasons is because you're known in the division, respected rather. A few of the primes, same like him. But that is until you switched to working in the office rather out in the field, still you were esteemed. That was all he knew. He never paid much attention to trivial things anyway; not unless it was something he should be concerned about.
"Kishibe?" You voiced, eyebrows furrowed.
"L/N." He replied, voice ever nonchalant.
As you stepped out of the elevator, he took a few of your bags from the floor as you did and you didn't say anything to it. No such thing as shyness or awkwardness between two grown people like you, let alone that you know of each other.
"So you're the one living here?" You asked, both of you walking in the long hallway.
"And you're moving."
"Guess we weren't both told then."
"That's the rule anyway."
Confidentiality was the top rule of the apartment, no introductions, not even background checks or anything. Closed off and expensive. That piques his interest, just a little though.
Though what you both find odd—even a little amusing is how you didn't even get to see each other when the two of you figure that of the day you checked out the place. And only now. What coincidence, you supposed.
Of you seeing how he was the only one living on the floor, you spoke your thoughts. "...And I suppose you being the only one here on this floor is ruined by me." You chuckled a little.
"Doesn't seem so bad." He answered just as easily and simply. Any other time back then, he wouldn't have liked this, it would have made his eyes sharp and lips fell even lower....but today, he's not gonna complain.
You nod, a small curve of your lips turning up. "...That's good to know," you say and not a second later, you arrived at your door. "....Well, thank you."
Kishibe laid the bags inside on the floor just as you opened the door, "Hmm," he just voiced before going his way.
This didn't deter you or anything, seeming to know that he's always been that.....rather reserved, you could say....anyone will, actually.
And as you went on to fix your things up, you thought of the man. That you were surprised to see him, much more that he lives here. You weren't bothered by it...just surprised—rather curious to what comes next.
This was him after all, the prime of the primes. The so reserved man, so as you now find new (the place he lives at could say a lot already) but suppose that's normal for his age, close to your age rather and especially in the kind of work you both have, let alone his.
"Shouldn't this be interesting?" You say to yourself just as you folded the last bag to its place.
Something new is what you came here for anyway,
As night has come, you made dinner not only for yourself but as well.....well, Kishibe. You'll be living closely for such a time and it's always right to give something for your neighbour. Though at the back of your mind, you can't help but think, does he even cook? eat for himself properly? It encouraged you more to give him something. Be it as a nature of a mother, and who was once a wife, you believe.
So late of the night when the time has come that the devil hunters usually go home from work, specifically in his rank—a few minutes after that said time, you went out from your apartment to head over his. Walking down the hallway, holding the small and still heated ceramic pot. As you reached the door, you knocked, successfully.
Seconds later, the door opened to show the man, looking a bit tired more than usual, just out from his coat but still in his attire, white shirt messily opened and hair ragged.
He has always been quite handsome, hasn't he?
"I'm sorry if I disturbed but I made you something as a gift of me moving in, I suppose." You spoke, putting up the pot slightly and he eyes it down.
He only said nothing but took the casserole from your hands and just hummed, walking back in, leaving the door open for you to just stand there, contemplating to leave as you figured the man was much more....him than he was.
Then you heard him speak, his usual voice that was gruffly. "Beer?" Coming from the kitchen.
You almost chuckled in surprise, thinking for a second he'd just leave without saying anything and now he offers you beer. Daring to take that as an invitation, you went in and closed the door. "I'm fine, thank you." You answer as you follow where he was. You see him took out a glass pitcher from the fridge and was holding a glass in his other hand, pouring the water in it as he put it on the table just beside the bottled and unopened beer.
Kishibe was a bit surprised, if he admits so. He actually thought you would have gone along just like everyone does.....just as he does normally. But here you are now, just at his door earlier, offering him a gift you made for him. So yes, he was surprised.
Opening the glass bottled beer, he took a light sip from it before opening the casserole that stood out on the table...well it was empty anyway. It was pasta, something he haven't had in a while, and something he'd devour in a while as he was damn hungry and haven't had dinner yet.
.....He was liking this new thing already.
The savoury scent immediately flourishes in the air, putting off the smell of musk and alcohol of the place. Kishibe didn't mind, though he just went to the wide terrace that lets the wind come in strongly, you follow shortly and he leans on the railings, a cigarette already in his mouth.
You placed yourself a bit far across from where he was leaning your waist back on the railings, the sound of night faint in the background. "How long have you been living here?" You asked.
The man let out the smoke before answering, still looking ahead, "Don't exactly count it,"
You nod, looking at him for a second as you lightly chuckled, uttering a small, "Of course."
Kishibe then gave you a side glance, looking at the view again. "Why'd you choose this?"
"I wanted to be away from the city but not so far that it'll be inconvenient for me and my children, and there this place was."
This made his eyebrows furrow but he wasn't looking at you, though you saw that. "They're separated from me as I'm divorced from my ex-husband....let him gain custody of them." You spoke but just stopped there, not wanting to say too much.
He looks at you this time, not tearing it away. "Is that why you switched to the office?"
Trivial things....trivial things he doesn't get involved with, nor even asked questions about.....but maybe this one won't change a thing and normal he thought it was to be curious at the very moment.
"Yes," That's what you only answer, he doesn't ask more and just looked away from you. Only smoke lingers in the air, no sense of any discomfort but you're both just there.
Until you spoke again, "I'll be off now, good night." You bid as you crossed your arms over your robes and stood up straight before walking. You only hear him hum as you did.
It was the beginning of a new thing to become a routine.....one that he wouldn't be sick of.
As it was the same for you. Just after finally settling down, your new abode made, you began to get more comfortable in the place. That meant with your neighbour. Well, maybe not so much but just enough to give him what you cook when you have time to make such meals at night. Just enough to let yourself in his place as every time you brought him something. Always in the terrace, the man will always smoke and drink his beer or just from his flask, and you'd just be there, not talking of anything but work, at least after a few nights then you both began speaking of said work, all the ordeals you go through...but still words were only kept short and few.....and just only that.
.
.
.
Stacked papers in your hands piled up on your arms as you're in the elevator, just walking out of it when it reaches your floor. Just as you're halfway in the hallway, Kishibe walks out of his place and he stops when he sees you, looks at his watch then back to you, not even fazed with the countless papers you have.
This makes you chuckle, slowing down. "Yes, my office was quite busy this afternoon because of the new recruits and what happened in the city." You spoke, Kishibe barely tuts his head, knowing how paperworks after hunting, its casualties and much more that comes with it—can be a bitch.
Figuring that with how late it is and the fact the man has been getting his dinner from what you've been giving him lately—you asked simply. "Are you getting dinner?"
That and maybe getting laid, he's had a damn day after that shit happened in the city. But maybe not tonight after all.
Kishibe took some of the papers and folders from you and began to walk towards your door. "What are you making?"
Your lips curved slightly, "Harako Meshi, been a while since I've had it and my friend gave me sake, so I figured."
Kishibe doesn't think there's been a second for him to think that he hasn't liked it every time you bothered him ever since you showed up. Yeah, he can't see that he'll be getting sick of this thing soon.
There he smokes on your balcony just as he laid the papers and folders on the table in the living room. And you're already in the kitchen just after you changed into a more comfortable clothes....a clear view of you as you work.
Your space was much more different from his ( Untouched and just left how it was. Dull. ) you damn turned the place upside down, one wouldn't think this one room was inside a soulless building. It reeks of home.
Home. He's unfamiliar with that since he was young and until now, let alone of the very word.
Kishibe sought to think how someone like you could still be in this kind of life. And he thought he's thinking enough, so he turned to the view and took a long drag.
You weren't oblivious to his stare, it doesn't bother you. Clear was how you hear his unspoken thoughts, it doesn't bother you as well. Anyone would think the same.
As you continue to work in the kitchen, you thought....how long it must have been for him since he's been in a home.....to feed well. A part of you smiles in daring to hope to give him a taste of it...no matter how...cruel it was if one were to see it in the other way. Give the satiated man he knows he doesn't...wouldn't...couldn't have.
Your conscience lies in just doing something nice for him.
You begin to prepare the table and Kishibe walks in, unhesitantly bringing some of the things you made on the table and the sake, of course. Now there you both are sitting across from each other and started to eat.
"I've heard that you'll be training the two recruits." You spoke.
Kishibe nods as he continues to eat-he really was damn glad he didn't go out. "Two fiends, nothing I can't handle."
"I'm sure." You spoke mindlessly....then you speak again. "She's planning something, isn't she?"
"She's always planning something."
That much was unfortunately and thankfully known. "Teach the boy well."
"I'll give him hell."
"You better."
You two didn't even miss a beat.
Kishibe's lips almost quirked as he drank. It was...quite...good to know that there lies an agreement between the dangerous notion. Nothing but truth in your voice as you speak every time....expectedly rare in the life of you both live.
"You stayed even if the cause of your separation is because of it." He spoke, no tone of anything but just his own voice.
Again, you were quite surprised as he said that, clearly not expecting him to take any interest, let alone even a bit of curiosity from him. But you didn't show it, nor were you offended by what he asked.
"Because this way, I can still protect them without risking my life so much before and not worry them anymore."
Of course.
"You and Quanxi were a loss to both the divisions." He'll give you that much.
And you were proud for that one. "We're all lucky that they let me switch without anything in return and that you remained to shoulder all the shit."
He couldn't agree more.
Now you both are done eating, with you fixing up the table and Kishibe on your balcony once again smoking—before you join him, nothing but the distant sounds of the city.
"Hayakawa?" You asked.
"Close."
"Have you warned Himeno?"
"He's set straight to it. Screws all lose."
You took a sharp breath from your nose as you looked up at the sky. "Kind boy," you spoke mindlessly.
Kishibe just hums as he let out his smoke. Silence came in and it was welcomed..a few more while, his cigarette ran dry....and there he bids. "Good night," and you just stood there still ahead to the view and him not sparing a glance as he spoke.
Normal night, you supposed.
Work was work. Walking in the corridors in the division, headed to your office...Kishibe was there walking in your opposite direction. As you both continue to walk, no glances were made but kept straight. A few times in that and left in the back of your minds.
And...now...he walks in the elevator of the apartment just as you did earlier seconds ago.
"You making something?" he asks as the elevator closes. It seems he likes your cooking more than you thought.
You hum, nodding. "Vegetable curry."
Kishibe raises his brow, "At night?"
You chuckle a little, "It seems so."
He just hums.
As you now cook in your kitchen, the door is left opened for the man who is still yet to come.
Then, what an odd mixture of the night was; aroma of the dish, cigarette and alcohol. It was welcomed nonetheless.
.
.
.
For some fucking reason...Kishibe hasn't had sex for a while...well...ever since you moved in, that is. And he's a simple man but dumb...he knows the reason why; you. Some fucking reason, huh.
Blind. The notion coming as unexpected...maybe...but is it really unexpected...really?
After all, what is to be expected when two grown people share the same floor together, what is to be expected when each night they share dinner together...what is to be expected when those two persons have some needs and those needs untouched?
Yeah, you. You've been...having thoughts about the man, you weren't bothered by it...if anything, again, you deemed it normal...and you aren't denying it as well. The man is fucking appealing. You know you can't blame yourself for it and you don't. But of course, that doesn't mean you'd act upon it. You are in need, needy, sure...maybe even aching but you have your....yes—your pride.
Oh, you're well aware that there lingers something in the air, it's palpable but still subtle...however hidden, it's there and you feel it. You both do.
But what does Kishibe do? Nothing. Went with his day and night like his mind hasn't thought of running his cock through a certain fucking someone. He's not exactly sure of what's keeping him from doing the exact thing.
But what's not keeping himself from doing is letting his hand go down on him, his free hand loosening his tie as he sits back on his couch lazily. Hardened length straining so tight against his boxers and black slacks.
"Hmghm..." He groans. That sinful sound...that rumbles through his chest so good even with his lips just closed. Kishibe took his already lit cigarette from the ashtray on his table, taking a long drag as he continues to palm himself. His fingers firmly pressing on his clothed cock.
He let out the smoke from his mouth. Pent up heat in him almost leaving along with the smoke, staring to nothing at the ceiling, his eyes clearly seeing your tempting figure. Engraved you were in his mind, he can thank himself for always letting his eyes linger on you, taking you all in when he stands on your balcony as you cook in your kitchen. Not turning his gaze away anymore ever since his...needs gotten the best of him and satisfied his eyes.
With one hand, he unhooked his belt and took seconds to free his aching cock, standing proud and leaking already. Kishibe closed his eyes, his head still laid back on the couch, exhaling deeply once his fingers wrapped on his base...allowing whatever was enabling him to feel it as your own fingers, it slides down so slowly, the closed palm confining his cock so warm and good, what he has been depriving of.
Your hands....your hands that moves fluidly when you handle your cooking, his mind flashing him visions that your hands are on his cock whenever he's there in your balcony.
Kishibe takes another long drag as he continues to suffocate his cock, still so slow, up and down, a strained groan this time as he slowly let out the smoke, eyes still closed. Feeling your hand go a bit fast now. Sweat and pre coating his length and your plush skin, it makes his chest start to rise and fall now. Droplets of sweat gathering on his skin and it drips down from his neck to his chest and down to his abdomen.
A rhythm being found. Still not that fast but enough...so enough to build fire in him as you circle your closed palm on him up and down, all while you run your thumb on his tip every time.
.....The fuck you do to him...penting him up just by watching you cook there...a humanly ritual...a domestic act...one he was barely familiar of and he's getting all hot about it. The cigarette he takes is blameless for it, but what he's familiar of humanly ritual...is need.
And what he needs is release.
Kishibe's throat strains as he hums….an animalistic growl as the ministrations on his cock continues. The pace still the same but filling in his peak slowly, and he likes it that way. Just as how the alcohol he drinks burn slowly in him. He savours it each and every time, just like right now, Kishibe feels you take your sweet time fisting him hard and steady. His tip continuously leaking, leaking more each time the pads of your fingers would go over his tip and press on it.
He held his cigarette with two fingers as that same hand reached out to get his glass on the table. Taking a drink of his whiskey as your hand never stops on him. Fucking hell...that flaring smoke of his cigarette, the alcohol, the burning waves from his straining cock, it engulfs him, enough...more than enough to send any being into euphoria. Deep and long groans rumbles from him as he feels it all, his throat and all the way down, burns. Clenching him.
However he was drowning in fire already, however enough it was...he wants more...he wants more than your hand. So what he does is grab the crown of your head and make you take his cock into your mouth, fingers gripping your hair to guide you in. Lips sliding against his thick and long length, tongue flat above him, the walls of your mouth and the end of your throat. "Fuck." Kishibe growls, the glass got put down on the table too hard that it might have cracked, his cigarette almost falling from his fingers.
Gurgled sounds vibrates through him and he hears it, he hears you. His grip on your hair strong as ever so as to keep the pace going, fast and hard, he assaults your mouth, his drips spilling to your tongue, down to your throat. His peak long gone from burning tantalizingly slow and turned to wildfire, overflowing, his hips now twitching, rising to make the pressure he gets in your mouth stay. Kishibe feels your breath going away as he doesn't let you breathe but just continues to hold your hair so tight, still making you take him. He can't lose his end...so whatever what was left in him is now gone as he moves his hips to fuck your mouth better. Slowly he does while he makes yours only faster and harder if it's still possible.
"Mhmgr fuck..." His growling sounds never stops as it continues, his hips slapping to you, abusing your mouth with his cock again and again. It didn't take much longer for him to see his release; all of him strongly clenched as his cock stilled in you, reaching the end of your throat, he feels it go down while his cum flows in you. The cigarette on his fingers now being crushed in his hand as he closed his fist so tight, the burning pain on his skin was nothing as he stays in his high, cock flinching in you while his lower body continues to slowly move against you to feel it all.
"Mgrhm…” It's what echoed in his walls continuously, his chest slowly comes down from its rising and falling, shirt soaked with sweat, hair falling with droplets of it as well.
"Kishibe."
He hears you call out to him from your kitchen. Dead eyes, he looks to you. "I think you wasted your cigarette." You nod to his cigarette on his hand...and as he now noticed, realized—it was crushed by his strongly closed fist, burning his skin once more. Kishibe opened his hand, showing his long before scarred flesh now freshly tainted...bits of its remains falling...because he was thinking of having your hand on his cock and fucking your mouth last night when he was only doing it by himself.
His thoughts long left to ashes the moment he stood in your balcony once again this night.
He needs to end this. He will have you soon.
Anticipation fills you. You know one way or another something will happen, you don't know when but you know it's hanging on by a thread...it has your heart racing...and your cunt beating.
The air of the night was fucking thick as you eat together.
And it's getting thicker with each passing second as the morning comes. It had to be fucking Saturday, where it's both your day off. But thankfully...as fucked up as it's sounds, you'd be luckily distracted as your two children will come over in the afternoon. And hopefully, he won't be in his place or anything to not cross paths with him today. The last thing you want right now is to see him at the moment...some part of you knows that if you do—it would be not too different from your thoughts.
But even that, of course...us creatures are nothing to the will of time; just another words to say it ended how one would normally expect. Bumping into each other...well, not exactly that, maybe worse than it. With him walking into your place with your two children walking in front of him.
The moment you heard a heavy footsteps along with a light and rapid ones, your eyebrows furrowed as you took a few steps aside to see who it was and you almost dropped the tray of freshly baked cookies from your hands as your eyes met his.
It took you not even a second to figure out the reason what's happening right now; you let your children just play around and inevitably went out of your place to go and play around on the floor. Either they knocked on his door or ran into him—either way, you knew your children likes to be friendly...and that says a lot, given how only a few children would approach a man like Kishibe.
You should have known better.
Though what could you have done to avoid it from happening, anyways. Finding your composure inside of you. "Tell me they just ran into you and didn't knock on your door." You spoke, laughing lightly as you went back to work.
"They knocked," Kishibe answers simply, as always.
"Yes, of course." You nod as a little laugh escapes you once more. Setting the cookies on the cooling rack. The sounds of your children in the background as Kishibe now stood in your kitchen, leaning the back of his waist on the counter, his eyes on you.
You were glowing...he hasn't noticed that before. He's sure he hasn't heard you laugh that much as well, probably normally because of your children...something is gotta be wrong with him...no, that's just his...desires that's making him notice.
You could strangle yourself right now, maybe even do something worse, because what the fuck is his problem staring at you while you're trying your best to not even so much show an ounce of waver in your composure and you know he knows what he's doing. What the fuck is he even gonna do here?
...Yeah, your mind was all over the place and that has rarely happened before, almost never. Yet you can't find the urge...the guts to ask him why he's staying right now this time.
Instead, you fucking ask him if he wants coffee, he just nods as he took one of your cookies.
Maybe...he stayed for your cookies
You almost bash your head on the counter as the thought occurred.
The kettle made its noise and you made your coffees. "You gonna have them over for dinner?" He asked.
"Mmnn, yes," you answer. But you hesitate to ask if he'll join.
"What are you making?" he asks once more. Your lips quirked as your mouth is now close to your cup. Well, you didn't have to worry about that after all.
"Pasta. It's their favourite." You spoke. And Kishibe remembers the night you gave him that dish. He still has the taste at the end of his tongue when he lets you in his door, he cannot wait to taste it again.
Which he does as the night falls, with your children across from both of you as your besides each other this time. The laughter of you and your children...it's nice. Pasta and among other things he can barely remember the names of, nonetheless he eats so well. Lots of it tastes unfamiliar and yet it's so welcoming...he wants more of it.
Kishibe's mind is stirring, the smoke is fogging his mind, so as he believes....or something must be in your food—he's really losing it.
And through his silence with only little of his words, through his eyes with your subtle glances besides him; you see through him. It almost worries you...you really gave him a taste of it. Where it goes from here next, you don't know but possibilities, of course, runs in your mind...more possibilities.
And it fueled even more when you caught a glimpse of his eyes when you got embraced and kissed by your ex-husband as he arrived to pick up your children...and Kishibe met your gaze as your former lover did.
The mere act alone...nothing needed to be said more.
The night hangs quiet when your children goes with their father, with Kishibe still there with you. If it was possible, the beating of your heart could echo loudly in your place as you fix up the table, with him following you to do the same, it's the first time he helped you with it....it's enough to say what it could possibly mean.
The glasses in your hand clang against one another as your said hand trembles a little to lay it down in the sink, while he walks close to you to put the plates in it as well. You're both so close to each other. He towers over you, he's just that damn tall. Kishibe only stands there as you did, his eyes looming above and behind you, his breathing turning deep that it was now heard in the deafening silence.
He can have you right there and then. Be relieved of his insanity.
Yet instead he speaks, "How long has it been since you sparred?"
Your mouth has already exhaled a light laugh before you could stop yourself. "It has...been quite some time."
In his mind, what he's to do could compensate for what he doesn't yet—"Why? You gonna run my memory?"
Before you know it, you're trapped by the counter and him, the edge of a knife on your throat, your hand on his wrist firmly—your eyes dead on him in sheer stun, laced with thin provocation. Seeing his gaze doesn't change at all; it was more maddening. "You doubted me." You at last utter in a calculating disbelief, your fingers tightening around his grip.
Kishibe lives by your nerves resonating through him, they're loud and strong because of him. It feeds him. "I wondered." He spoke, still having the blade directly on you.
You don't feel anything from him but now that the proximity grants you to fully look him in the eyes, you can finally see he's burning.
The evidence is more worrying than the weapon dying for your throat.
"That's wounding." You breathe.
"Everything is."
You only scoff at his reply, before your other free hand swiftly went to get another knife of his from one of his pocket and aimed it for the side of his head—only for him to stop it by his hand that once trapped you, his hold just effortlessly firm, barely a strength to keep you from driving the blade in his brain.
Even when you never worked together, your reputation has never doubted you and that he can see now right in front of him.
"Proof enough?" You ask.
Not enough of you.
He only huffed a short hum. Just like that, he retracts the knife against you and that you held against him. "Good night."
Not now. Not yet. The burning in him, he wants to feel it more before anything.
The exchange has you falling to your knees as your hands weakly hold on the sink. A warning for what's to come more.
What deprivation can do to a being.
Yes, indeed what it can do to a being; it has Kishibe filling his glass with whiskey, trying to wash away whatever he's thinking, whatever he's feeling. But no matter how many downs he takes, it doesn't go away, it won't, it can't. Especially not when the sight of you and your ex-husband...lovingly held each other, even when it was short, it was undeniable there was.....love between you both still. He doesn't know the bits of your remaining relationship with your ex-husband, but he sees well enough that there isn't something between you both....and yet, when he saw that sight, it bothered him, something went off.
Another man clinging to you like that, it comes crashing down. It's getting ridiculous. He's gonna turn into ashes if he continues to let this burn.
Icarus' wings could only bear so much of the sun after all.
.
.
.
The day is going too fucking slow and it's driving you crazy. You're at work and you haven't even had a glimpse of him in the apartment nor at work. Just what is happening to you, acting like a damn puppy who can't seem to keep it in. It has you tired as you come home. Heels heavy as you walk through the corridors, eyes lingering to his door as you pass by.
You were left nowhere but to wait. So wait you did. Your door left open—you begin to prep for dinner after taking a long time under the water, composure building up again all while. But of course, your mind was still somewhere else, your insides never stopping of its fluttering as you mindlessly go.
By doing that, it was only a mere expectation of yours for it to now actually happen.
Though a complete lack on your part, really, that even with years of being a hunter and still having whatever you've learned and throughout all the years even when you switched from being one—you missed that someone has walked in your place.
Now you find yourself suddenly dropping the knife you were washing, the water left running as you felt a strong presence loom behind you. You stood there unmoving, breath caught in your throat the moment you felt it. Felt him.
The seconds turned slow but your heart was the opposite being filled with...thrill. "Kishibe." A breathless murmur echoes faintly but he hears it greatly and there comes his rope snapping. Your voice that's been plaguing him, it finally mutes everything.
Kishibe laid his hand on your right arm and the other around your waist as he pulled you tightly close against him, immediately meshing his fingers on your belly. Your breath being taken away from you again. He won't say he can't believe what's happening because he expected the boundness when he grew close to you.
His hand on your arm has been rising up, rough palm on your skin, his grasp heavy; feeling the softness of the fat on your arm to your shoulder, kneading you there with his mouth heated on the side of your forehead. "Been too long." In a low breath he says as he continues to tightly caress on your shoulder, before going down to slip under your dress then slipping his fingers in your bra, his thumb and index finger now playing with your nipple, the rest of his palm fondling your breast.
Creatures of nightmares that crawl from nothing to land he's dealt with for so long, he himself bounded to those, unthinkable abilities he wields; he never questioned reality. But there's an impenetrable sense of high he's in as he fixes in your softness, it doesn't feel real. It's peaceful, he thinks that is what dreaming is.
"I think it's just about time." You merely replied, finding your hand relying firmly on his nape, as the other reaches for the faucet to stop the running water while he goes on. Your waked mind still there before you let yourself go in a haze later.
Kishibe ghosts his face down on the side of yours, his nose breathing you in so much before he opens his eyes and looks at your lips—then to your gaze.
He feels foolish again but he feels it more so the more he thinks about it, so he just simply kisses you now.
It has been too long.
It's humorous; a simple kiss making you want to fall on your knees.
The remnants of cigarette and whiskey you're now familiar with, you can taste with mouths being held together, and he begins with mildly sucking you. His hand that was groping on your belly trails up to your neck, pushing his mouth to yours even more as he drags it open—only to suck your lips once again out of hunger that he spills freely, swallowing roughly each kiss he takes after the other, soaking his dry mouth with you—only then he uses his tongue against yours, tangling on one another, roaming it inside you, swimming his tongue in whatever saliva that gathers in your mouth. Dragging you in.
A simple kiss.
So much for it when you pull away before you could no longer breathe—your chest heaves, lips parted with air heavily leaving in and out of you. He's no different; gaze darkened as blown, you could almost hear the growl that threatens to echo from him, his grip creasing on your neck to your nape and he turns you around to face him. He pushes you just slightly to put the back of your waist against the edge of the sink, leaning his body down so he's levelled to you.
The hand of yours on his neck slides to lay it on the side of his face, it's the first time you're looking at each other this long, for more than five seconds directly, let alone this close, gazes straight through your souls. Kishibe always looks at the person he talks to straight at them without falter, and you've seen that having him done it to you only a few times, before you both always turn your eyes away as the days kept going. Now you see all of him as he allows himself.
A voracious kiss.
When has a man been so…..desperate?
When have you ever been so wanting? Shameless; rapid, messy, strong, wet.
Drowning in need you seek. Your sex has long gone weeping in your panties. Kishibe’s throbbing cock only soothed by the tightness of his clothes below, even as he was starting to drip of his own arousal, he just left it before he took you up to lay your back on the counter after suffocating your lungs in that kiss, simply pushing off the things that's there and shattered on the floor but never parting his mouth away from you, from your face, your neck, to your chest and belly while his hands took off your undergarments below as he goes down more.
It's incomprehensible. Your fate that brought you upon him, that has led to a path of the Kishibe barely on his knees to finally have a taste of your pussy. The feeling of his mouth and tongue latched on your cunt the first second was already the last thread of your hold on your existence. That hold became your fingers wading through his hair, thighs already trembling in his tight grasp, sounds of pleasure etched to your erratic breathing.
Kishibe is not at all rough when he began—subdued; each kiss he gives, each suck he takes is heavy. He doesn't want to rush. He has suffered to simply hurry and not feel every thrum he could get. His wide and long tongue flat on your whole mound, drinking your slick with each drag he licks, his stubble grazing against the hair and flesh of your cunt.
There's no words from you both, it doesn't exist. Only flesh and unruly power that conjured from your desires. Only the sounds of a hungry man one with his devils as he feeds.
It begins to rise more, the fire your body collects, his ceaseless hunger. Your grip on his hair deepening. The grind of your hips for your cunt to ride his face. The unstoppable tremble of your limbs as you move against him, thighs barely clutching to his head despite his hurtful grip to keep your sex tact to him. The repeating shock and clenching of your pussy with each spit he threw. His mouth nor breath not once waver until he gave your end, only for him to take it out of you again and again. All numb, nerves just wildly spiking everywhere within you—pussy left raw and still weeping, throat dry and eyes in tears.
However his boundless hunger, his mouth is at least given a little bit of your pussy for now for it to be enough and move next. So Kishibe then stood up, your tearful eyes following. It remains unreal to you. His lips so red, half of his face soaked. He swipes his thumb on his cheek, jaw and to his chin, catching what drips from his mouth of the myriad of your cum and swallowed it like the rest. Before that same hand ran over his dishevelled wet hair, and simply took off his tie in one go. Eyes kept on one another the whole moment.
You no longer own your breath….the sounds you've been making…the fog clears more, blinking the tears away, the coldness of the metal in spite of all the heat, your dress clinging on your skin, drenched with sweat; there's a little of shame that seeps back in you.
But you don't turn away from his gaze. Kishibe holds it. You follow him. It took you that long to make a decision. Desirably, you accept it.
Amusing as it is for Kishibe seeing you unfold, he doesn't know how much longer he could stand to not just fuck you senseless. The sound of his belt snapping as he took it off from his pants wakes you up. “Done being in your head?”
Coherent words exist again. You tirelessly breathe out a little laugh, “Barely.” You keep cursing in your head and they're louder now as he frees himself.
He couldn't help the tut on the edge of his lips when he saw the fleeting look of stun from you once he now held his cock. “Just about time, huh?” he plainly taunts as he spits on his palm before he strokes himself.
It's been so long. And he's damn big.
“Fuck you.” You scoffed.
Kishibe swears there was laughter that swirled inside him but didn't reach his mouth. Only the strain in your breath as his left hand gave your still drooling cunt attention again, your body involuntarily tensing before easing again while he slid two of his thick fingers in and barely loosened you up for just mere seconds.
The bits of pain remains treads you on edge, expecting it to double soon. His blood prevails to course so explosively.
You both expected it, nonetheless still by the skin of teeth when Kishibe grazed his cock in. Your walls a soaked and snug furnace, barely halfway—"Fucking,” he trailed off in a mutter, the fingers of his left hand digging on your thigh, the other lightly choking your throat. Each trudge he makes fill the fullness of your cunt takes. It's plain insanity.
“Just about time, huh?” You get back, barely.
Kishibe's laugh is at last freed. It really is madness. It was just an air of laugh, teeth shown; it was priceless. One that you beheld before he just plunges in with no more room left for hesitation. “You fucking—” you growled after he slammed into you, your sudden glare sharply closing as your body took in that shocking goodness against the pain.
“This is nothing yet.”
It is.
It was.
But once again when he began, it's slow and kept. The sting that drags melts more to tight fondling sensations from every thrust he pushes deep in your pussy. You didn't think you would have had a cock fuck you to be this staggering, render you brainless—or more so believe it that's it now happening after having……fantasized of it. Kishibe's cock feeds your pussy so well. You keep him in too well. Soon then again, his abilities are not held back and it's just quite pitiful how you're holding back to not just already break and cum for the nth time. It doesn't matter to him, not really—he wants nothing more than to wring you empty for him.
That's just what he does. He let it go by unsaid as he kept fucking you, making you break no sooner. Your mind barely comprehends he's kissing you as your cum spills and he's still ramming again and again, not making you ride your high, letting his drool make a mess on your mouth again.
You don't stop him however, nor you could in your state. And when he reaches his first end, how is it still possible you break more? Kishibe's left hand holding a death grip on the edge of the counter above your head once he stilled deep inside you, his pulsing cock floods your pussy of his cum. Much of it. He'll be moulding you to a greedy creature in no time, meeting his own ruin. Eyes mirroring too clearly upon one another. You're far gone than you'd have thought you'd be with him, and you don't want to ever go back.
Kishibe has long made that decision before he invaded your home tonight.
The high strongly lingers, still burrowing himself in you before he slowly moves and relives that beating high again. Thick drools of hotness webs in your walls that keeps you full even as he pulls out entirely and seeps out from your folds.
Heats still raging and barely satiated after having much of it.
Your kitchen is a mess and reeking of sex. He takes you standing and bent over the counter after, easily holding you up as he railed you like so, drenching your cunt again with his cum. Keeping his prowess in his wield, when he just carried you to your living room after and had you on his lap as he sat on a couch. Your clothes finally ripped off of you and had you bare as you rode him while he watched and felt the glory. Remnants of your sex left on the couch when he took yourselves to your bedroom, taking you again with your face buried in the sheets, back arched for him as he fucked you from behind. And when you both break again, he doesn't stop, instead loomed himself over your back and still delved his cock in and out endlessly while cum flows out messily, your loud moans strained from his hand squeezing your throat and head deep on the bed. Even as the dawn rises, Kishibe remains.
No end in sight.
58 notes · View notes
dairy-farmer · 4 months
Note
Jaytim where Jason gets cucked by.... *gasp* Willis Todd!?
Instead of dying he simply served a long sentence and was released shortly after his son's marriage. Of course he wants to reconnect!
One of my favourite headcanons is that Jason has a mommy kink, so it would fit well if Tim shared some traits and mannerisms with Catherine.
Anyways idk if Tim would ever willingly cheat with Willis, or if this is some dubious/non-consensual scenario, but it might end with patricide, a retraumatized Jason and Tim giving birth to at least one of Jason's siblings. Not neccessarily in that order.
yes yes yseby yes ye sye s YESRESS YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i LOVE this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
where willis was never killed he just got sentenced to serve a long sentence. when he gets out its been years, a lot of his old stomping grounds have been bulldozed, crime has been severely cracked down upon due to batman's presence. a lot of the simple "honest" work that willis used to be able to use to get by has been all but made oblique. plus he's behind. since getting locked behind bars the world has essentially left him behind. his wife who used to put money on his books had stopped, not because she'd met another man but because she'd gone and died.
when willis gets out he has nothing, no one. but the rule of his probation was that he needed a permanent address where the officer could roll by and check on him at any minute.
all of willis' old contacts, mainly women who he'd messed around with, had either changed their numbers, disappeared, or moved on from him.
willis' options are limited. he'd been born nothing into nothing but he'd still made use of what he had to crawl himself up. decent looks and enough charisma to power a steamboat had been his saving grace. it was what had landed him a nice loyal woman that always put up bail money and raised his bastard.
but willis wasn't so young anymore. that dark hair had faded to streaks of gray, his features had weathered due to age. he was still good looking but not young enough to get stupid little girls to offer him anything he wanted in exchange for a little attention.
but willis was lucky. the gotham prison system had under gone revisions in recent years and a database had been established to help recently released felons reconnect with family and friends to keep them off the streets and therefore away from re-offending.
it's how willis manages to find out his son was alive and not dead in a gutter or rotting in some prison upstate.
what a pleasant surprise!
the little shit had never deigned to visit willis and the address the secretary gives him is in one of the nicer parts of crime alley.
willis can't say he didn't resent the kid a bit. getting a baby dumped on him by a girl he fucked once or twice was a pain in the ass. moreso that when he brought the baby home to catherine she'd cried.
hurt and betrayed that willis had cheated on her.
willis would admit that beneath the hard exterior, part of him had felt a churn of something in his gut at making his cathy cry. she was different from the other women, from the girls he fucked and dumped. it was why he'd kept her around, married her.
she was genuine. sweet. she looked at willis with a look of concern his own mother had never given him. she worried about him, patched him up when he'd return bruised and cut up. she was the only one who ever believed willis would make something of himself, citing willis' head for numbers which had landed him pretty decent jobs as a number runner and accountant that had given them a comfortable life.
until the baby arrived. then all of a sudden willis' meager pay was going towards diapers and milk and all the million things babies needed.
willis would admit the kid had single-handedly ruined him and cathy by draining their finances. cathy had tried to assure him it was alright, that they'd figure things out. she'd even tried going down to the welfare office to get help paying for the kid.
but she'd been rejected. both their criminal records made it so they were on their own.
it meant willis had been made to start taking riskier jobs from shadier employers. cathy had to call up old contacts and start working as a courier again just so they could make ends meet.
so willis hated the kid.
oh he pretended he didn't. for cathy's sake. she'd grown attached and willis had lost the opportunity to suggest they dump the kid at the firehouse or an orphanage.
willis admitted he'd smacked the kid around a bit. mostly when he'd cry that cathy wasn't around.
when willis had gotten the rotten end of stick and landed himself nearly 20 years in prison on a trumped up charge it hadn't felt real.
he'd felt like he was in some sort of waking nightmare as his bumbling public defender fucked up his case.
20 years was a long time to spend behind bars. some of the guys willis got locked up with turned to religion, others tied their identities to the prison gangs and sank deeper into the tar pit of crime.
willis did what he could to maintain his sanity.
until the day of his release when he's handed back the clothes he was arrested in along with his belongings. a wallet with a wrinkled 5 dollar bill, a receipt from the bus, his old house key, and a notebook of addresses that'd landed him in lockup.
willis feels lost when the prison bus dumps him on some random street corner in gotham, a pamphlet of resources in hand, alongside about 12 other inmates.
unlike most of them, willis was literate enough to actually read what was printed and made his way to the listed office. the office which directed him to the home of his estranged son that he hadn't seen since the day he got thrown over the hood of a police car for entering the wrong damn building run by the wrong damn people.
willis may be old. he may have spent the last 20 years of his life in prison. his wife may be dead, his old apartment bulldozed to make room for some gentrified apartment building, and he may have nothing but the clothes on his back- but willis still had his mouth. and that opened a world of possibilities.
jason was taller, broader. he looked disturbingly like willis' father which meant he probably looked a lot like willis.
his hands were thick and calloused, scarred over from hard work as he stood in the doorway in a wife beater and low hanging sweatpants.
willis knew what it felt like to have no lost love for a father. so he just says what it would've taken him to open his door to his father if he'd somehow come back from the dead.
jason's home is cluttered, stacks of books and knickknacks littering shelves and low tables. it's full. but full in a way that willis can tell the home is well loved and occupied. there are paintings and posters on the wall along with pictures. little details are scattered throughout the home that tell willis his son does not live alone. and he's right when he spots the curious figure lingering at the entrance to the kitchen.
willis nearly feels his breath hitch at the sight of the other person. from a certain distance, from an angle...they almost looked like cathy. short dark hair, small figure, soft sloped hips, pretty pink lips, big wet doe-like eyes, long curled lashes...
looks like his son had gotten himself a nice little woman to keep him company in this cozy little house of his.
a clench of something warm and wanting swirled in willis' gut but he pushed it down. no. he could think more on that once he was comfortable and secured a bed.
jason was reluctant. he was recently married, had started some new job at a city planning office, and had just started settling down with his little wife that introduced himself as 'tim'.
saying the right words to squirm his way in comes natural to willis, no amount of time locked up could change that, and jason's little wife also helps.
just like cathy. having faith in a stranger's words, believing that people were better than they actually were.
jason doesn't give in too easily though. willis wouldn't have either.
but willis gets the spare bedroom in the apartment and jason warns him its temporary, just until he gets on his feet and so the parole officer doesn't get on his ass about it.
willis would admit it was nice to have the privacy of a room. a bed that wasn't more of a gym mat than mattress and running hot water whenever he wanted. jason rarely left the home those first few weeks, eyes always locked on willis when he'd come out of the room. more than once he'd dump a newspaper on willis' lap and tell him to start searching the classifieds, that plenty of people were willing to hire ex-cons.
apparently jason's little wife knew better than anyone since he worked for a charity helping underprivileged youths. it must have given him some divine need to help because he often helped willis fill out job applications after willis pretended to struggle reading the words printed on the newsprint.
the night after willis' perceived illiteracy some part of jason seemed to have lightened up. he and jason are washing up the dishes when jason quietly inquired.
"can you really not read?"
of course willis could. he wasn't some kind of fucking moron.
but it seemed to earn sympathy points from people. after all there was nothing more uncomfortable seeing a grown man struggle to read. it makes people not view someone as much of a threat.
its probably part of the reason why jason starts lightening up a little. starts making short trips out of the apartment to do errands while willis remained on his best behavior.
willis was good at maintaining the facade. he'd done it for 20 years in prison, pretending to be a browbeaten, meek, mouse of a man that stuttered so hard he nearly passed out when confronted.
it had been a different kind of humiliation to endure that for 20 long years. being used as entertainment by bigger fish who'd chortle and laugh as willis had to pretend to nearly piss in pants in fear just at being spoken to.
but he'd done it. so he could survive.
being demeaned and degraded day in and day out did something to a man''s brain.
it changed him biologically. made it so the minute he got something he wanted he did anything he could to keep it.
willis was still living under his son's roof, was still at the mercy of his benevolence. was still stuck in a little room without any real freedom.
his son might believe they were reconciling to an extent but jason was still a man in his own home and that meant he couldn't help but try to make willis prostrate.
willis listens to his son fuck his little wife from the next room with a throbbing cock in hand.
20 years was a long time to go without pussy. cathy was long gone but there had been no one who compared to her hot little cunt that had stretched so good around him.
willis pumped his cock listening to breathy moans and high pitched whines of jason rocking into his whore, imagining the stretch of little timmy's cunt over his cock, thinking of fucking him so hard that tender pussy would be bruised and red from the force of it all.
willis can feel his self control start to slip.
going in and taking his son's woman was highly risky and could land him out on the streets again.
but willis didn't know how many more nights he could take before his hand wasn't enough.
then willis reconnects with old acquaintances. ones who haven't changed at all.
no suspicion is drawn about him going out for a beer with old "friends". not that willis would ever consider any of the trash he surrounded himself with as anything more than 'associate'.
but they do have their uses. like one of the men who mainly dealt near the colleges and financial areas.
its not hard to score a few pills from him.
willis crushes them to a fine powder in his room using two heavy books until he had a baggy small enough to fit up his sleeve. from there it was a matter of waiting.
waiting for the next time jason would go out for a few hours.
the gods must be smiling down on willis because he catches a break.
a problem at one of the sites jason works at has had a problem and he'll be gone until the next morning fixing it.
willis doesn't act immediately even though every part of him wants to. he waits until it's lunch and prepares a glass of fruit juice for tim as usual, bringing it to him with every bit of forced casualness as he can.
tim is working and takes occasional sips of the juice and bites of a sandwich while willis hovers nearby, waiting.
eventually the pills kick in.
tim starts shifting. his head starts lolling side to side as tim massages the back of his neck. hands start scratching at the edges of his clothes and wiping away sudden sweat.
when tim stands up with a low call of 'bathroom' but then stumbles- that's when willis swoops in.
bootleg pollen was stupidly easy to obtain. it was untraceable in a tox screen, had a half life of 45 minutes, could be ingested orally, snorted, or absorbed through the skin, was borderline impossible to overdose on, increased body temperature, and made sex so much hotter.
willis had only heard whispers of it, mostly from men who were serving sentences for having used it and how they said it was fully worth it with wistful looks.
willis couldn't help but agree with them as he sank with ease into a dipping little pussy with a relieved gasp that ripped out of him. willis had to just sit there for a little, eyes closed and just feeling the vice of a hot cunt all around his cock. jason's woman let out a soft whine and little murmurs under him, his limbs lax and heavy as his head tilted one way and the other. his brows were furrowed and eyes closed as he softly squirmed, soft bottom inching away until willis reached down and pulled him closer, forcing more of his cock in until he was fully bottomed out. willis felt his pelvis be pressed flush to soft little baby cunt and how nice of jason's woman to keep himself so beautifully waxed.
willis started slow, grinding and grunting against the neck of jason's woman, trying to hold him back from going too fast for fear of cumming too quickly. but that thought left just as soon as it came and willis started furiously fucking the hole under him, insides desperate for release. willis had all day to take his time but for the moment he was going to make up for 20 years worth of fucking.
jason's woman was quite the champ. usually after a few rounds willis was getting pushed away by exhausted broads who'd whine about being too tired to keep going.
not cathy though. never his cathy, no she always let willis go for as long as he wanted until he was satiated. she'd wrap her arms around him and hold him to her while willis fucked her cunt full of load after load. even if she wouldn't be able to move in the morning, even if her cunt would be bruised to the heavens- she'd just press a kiss to willis's forehead and thank him.
god he fucking missed her. 20 years and he hadn't even known they'd buried her in some nameless fucking plot under a number instead of her name.
jason's woman looked so much like her. those pretty eyes, that soft hair, those full cheeks.
god his cathy hadn't aged a day.
willis snapped his hips into a whining cathy a little faster, letting her tilt her head back while he panted over her, nowhere near as young as he used to be.
willis pressed their faces together just like he used to when they'd spend all of saturday and sunday just fucking in their shoebox apartment. willis felt his breath grown heavier as he pumped his cock into cathy, her cunt letting out a wet thick noise everytime he tugged out.
"gnnn, cathy baby i missed you-" and he had, god willis had. he'd never had a good thing in his life but cathy oh fuck his cathy was the only worthwhile thing he'd ever had.
he's borderline lightheaded as his hips stutter, chest tightening and jaw clenching as he tightens his bruising grip on the hips of the hole under him until he's spilling and flooding hot cum into the welcoming womb below him.
willis isn't sure how long he lies there, fucking and cumming and filling a womb with his cum. it must be hours, maybe the whole the day. everytime jason's woman starts struggling a little harder, willis reaches under the couch for the baggy and dumps some over his face, pinching his nose so he has no choice but to swallow and then he's wet and loose all over again.
willis is so focused on it and lost in the sensations he doesn't hear the key in the front door turning. doesn't hear the boots and the steps. doesn't hear how they freeze, how they pause and then start moving rapidly in his direction faster and faster.
willis didn't know jason kept guns. he just assumed his son was too much of a pussy about them. but he was wrong. if he'd checked the closet beside the door or underneath the table by the kitchen he would've found the legally registered, fully loaded fire arm.
willis only sees it when he's ripped back and off tim, the glint of the metal the last thing he sees before jason empties the clip into his head.
willis is not present for the fallout, to see the way he has permanently re-traumatized his son.
his son who had believed his piece of shit father's words about reconciling, the piece of shit father he invited to his home, the piece of shit father he left with his wife, the piece of shit father he arrived home to find raping his wife.
jason is not alright. he's only ever been disappointed by father's his whole life- he should've known better. the moment his father refused to get revenge on his murder should've been the only sign he needed to know better. but jason was just determined to shoot himself in the foot everytime.
and now tim was paying the price for jason's stupidity as well.
jason is meticulous in cleaning the apartment. tim was already unconcious by the time jason arrived, pollen was scattered all beside his head.
so jason rests him on the couch and covers him with a sheet, careful to wipe between his legs to catch...emissions.
tim will awake from the pollen and remember nothing from it and maybe that will be a mercy. the only one to remember what happened will be jason whole cleaned his father's splattered brains off the wall. jason gathers what's left of the corpse and takes it out to an abandoned bridge overseeing one of the rivers in gotham that drains to the ocean.
he weighs each of his father's limbs down with a cinder block and pushes him off the railing. when his parole officer passes by jason will tell him he hadn't even known his father got out of prison.
jason cleans tim carefully, tenderly. he only has to hold himself over the toilet to dry heave once after he'd finished scraping his father's cum out of his wife.
in the morning tim wakes up in pain and delirious with a fever from the pollen.
jason tells him what happened and holds him while he cries but its hard to be traumatized over something you can't remember. its more the paranoia and the thoughts of wondering what happened that drive the depression.
weeks later the parole officer arrives looking for jason's father and it takes everything jason has to remain calm.
another few weeks and jason and tim decide they can't continue to live in their little apartment and they move. another few weeks and tim's period doesn't come and dread fills them both as they realize that it's unlikely that willis was able to get real pollen that it was likely bootleg pollen, the ones that had the effect of forcing people into ovulation.
they think about getting rid of it, they think about ignoring how they've been trying for a baby but have had no luck because jason was essentially a cadaver powered by kiddie pool magic.
they think of not going through with it.
but in the end they can't bring themselves to. they've wanted a baby so badly for so long. they can't do it.
its hard to come to terms with. they tell no one about willis, its easy because they'd told none of the family he'd been staying with them.
they assume jason is the father and he is. jason has been slowly training his mind to disregard the technicalities of genetics, to ignore how if bruce or anyone ever ran a scan on his and tim's baby they'd find he's closer to jason's half brother than son.
they ignore it. they celebrate tim's pregnancy and prepare with all the joy they were holding in for their baby.
and they're happy.
it takes awhile but they are.
their baby is born pink and screaming with a thick head of hair and the most gorgeous little eyes. she has the same little dimple as jason does when she smiles and dick coos over it when he comes to visit them.
"oh she looks so much like her daddy!"
the words only cause the slightest of aches but it fades when jason hears his daughter giggle.
they were good. they were happy.
at the very least willis had been good for one thing in his miserable life.
tim heard him say that and gave him a small, soft look before leaning up to kiss him.
two things, tim would whisper before bending down to give their baby another kiss.
jason pretended like the words didn't choke him up and rested his head on tim's, holding him close while they listened to their sleeping baby take soft, slow breaths.
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sinner-sunflower · 7 months
Text
A HH Lucifer-centric AU 12/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22
Fun fact:
I was supposed to include Heaven in this. The og plot was like Heaven was already friendly with them- like Luci's siblings, and they were supposed to be in the meeting back in chapter 4 and 5.
The argument would have been that Heaven is bound to help because Roo won't stop at Hell and it will eventually reach Heaven, making it their problem too.
But obviously I had a change of plans and I think this plot would be better.
A plot fit for a possible sequel, one might say.
Apologies for the shortness of the chapter but thank you still for the constant support! Your likes, reblogs, and comments are the things that give me inspiration to do this every day!
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The good news is the problem has not reached any of the upper rings in his absence. The bad news? Sloth is almost devoured.
Overgrown roots have enveloped the main city's buildings, he can't even see the Goetia territory anymore. The blood-red flowers are still spewing black miasma and he can feel it slightly burn his skin.
Lucifer thinks that this is what real Hell looks like.
This means that everyone is just exerting enough power to keep it at bay but not enough to fully stop it. Lucifer was right in his decision to look for Goodie. Speaking of Goodie- the embodiment of good barely reacts. If she's being burned by the mist, she's doing a pretty good job of not showing it.
Goodie: Oh my. What trouble you are causing, Roo.
A fucking understatement but Lucifer won't argue. This is trouble, but a million times worse.
Lucifer: Let's go.
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At one corner of Sloth, the Sins and the other higher powers of Hell have just finished another round of the sealing ritual. They've been going at it a month straight, there is no end in sight, and they are exhausted. Even Alastor is mostly drained as he is leaning a lot on his cane.
Beelzebub: Fuck! I knew this wasn't going to be easy but what the fuck?!
Someone scoffs.
Vox: Maybe if our dear king is here this would be over. Like, where the fuck is he huh??
Leviathan: Don't forget who you are speaking to, filthy sinner!
Vox: Oh boohoo. If we're all gonna die anyway, why should I be afraid of you? Should've known that absentee of a ruler left us all to rot after damning us here in the first place-
Vox suddenly finds a giant hand wrapped around his throat. It took him a few seconds of reconfiguration before he clearly saw who the fuck-
Vox: Fuckin- gah! Alastor!
Alastor has transformed into a taller, lankier, and more sinister of himself. Eyes turned into radio dials, face, and body adorned with glowing green stitches like a puppet whose master has on a string.
Alastor: Shouldn't frivolous televisions come with a silent setting?
Vox: Fuck! Off!
Alastor: Hahaha! What is the matter, Vox? You seem to have developed the illusion that you are the strongest person in the room. Shall I remind you of what came about your moth friend?
Velvette: You better let him go, old man!
Velvette yelled to back up Vox. She flinches as Alastor turns his head in her direction with a sickening snap of his neck.
Not wanting to back off, she was about to argue more when Carmila stepped in.
Carmila: Velvette! Cease this at once. Do you and the Vees have no self-preservation??
Velvette: Well- I- Vox's right and you lot know it! Great Lucifer called us all here, basically threatened us to help him fix a mess he caused, then fucks off to God knows where leaving us to practically kill ourselves for a mess, again, HE CAUSED!
The Sins and Goetia's have now transformed into their more monstrous forms at hearing the disrespect the lowly sinner said about their King.
Velvette and Vox are saved from near-permanent death by a commanding voice.
Lucifer: Kneel.
Everyone's bodies acted on their own. Their knees bled from the sudden contact on the ground.
None of them could move- try as they might. Their air became heavier, plus with the miasma, a lot of them were gasping for air. Nothing is coming in. They can't breathe. They can't-
They look up to see the King of Hell and an unknown woman. Unknown to most but the Sins very much recognize her as indicated by the widening of their eyes.
Satan: Goodie!
The woman giggles and waves cheerfully as if there wasn't a looming threat in the air.
Goodie: My, my. What big mouths you have~
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What to look forward to in Part 13:
Some talks and reprimanding.
Another round of ritual.
The situation becomes worse.
Lucifer and Goodie's solution.
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