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tsukimefuku · 5 months

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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem.

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento.

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

"This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself?

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death.

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through.

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways.

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words.

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely.

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?"

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure.

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be.

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!"

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression.

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up.

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was.

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly.

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.”

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart.

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots.

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami.

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words, “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss.

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice.

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution.

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost.

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss.

You could kiss him like this forever.

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you.

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be —, Nanami spoke again.

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved.

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it.

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.”

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

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thisaccountisagainstmywill · 6 months

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BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

#bg3 #bg3 shitpost #shitpost headcanons #astarion #gale #bg3 gale #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #wyll #bg3 wyll #halsin #minthara #minsc #minsc and boo #boo #bg3 boo #jaheira

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soapybutt17 · 6 months

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Too Sweet For Me

Summary: It was the annual Military Ball, the fifth one since you and John have been married in secret. With his new promotion as Captain, meant a whole ball park of responsibilities he was still getting used to—but nothing gets to him more than the mere sight of you, his beautiful darling in the dress he always loves. It was also something to prepare for with the new changes that came to this year’s ball. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,190 Chapter Warnings: None. Author's Note: this was also supposed to be for @glitterypirateduck's O'Captain challenge but my appendix had other plans for me this past few days. Lol.

Inspired by this song (obviously)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

“Darling.” You couldn’t help but smile at your husband’s pained groan.

With a red backless dress, you know you would turn heads with your outfit and even more certain that your husband would be killing a few men if you weren’t too careful about him.

“Behave.” You pulled away from him as soon as you felt his hands hold onto the small of your exposed back. You turned to face him, seeing him so handsome in his ceremonial uniform, an upgrade since his new promotion.

“I don’t think I can see myself behaving with you looking so ravishing.” He muttered approaching you again and pulling you into another kiss, allowing him this one time since you have yet to put your make up on. “Will this be a problem for tonight?” He playfully warned.

“If you keep your hands to yourself it won’t.” You playfully pointed out pecking him on the lips one last time before turning your attention back to your vanity mirror to put on your makeup. “I’m surprised that you actually plan on coming to this year’s event. I’d expect you to just stay home after the last mission.” You pointed out.

Behind the bravado and the handsome uniform your husband had on, was a broken but healing man that just got back from a mission. A few scrapes and bruises you all know too well were hidden perfectly well, but the black eyes was something that would take more than an ice pack and makeup to actually cover.

“Better to be there to see what those muppets have planned.” He grumbled.

You had accidentally let it slip that there was going to be an auction for this year’s event and you had volunteered to be part of the auction. A simple date that you were certain meant absolutely nothing but it was for a great cause and you couldn’t really fault them with.

Your husband was still apprehensive about the fact, especially knowing that no one was made aware of your relationship to each other. Everyone was given the fact that you were both good friends that had been on countless missions together. It was nothing but friendship between the two of you if you were ever spotted in town together even when the both of you knew it was something more.

“It’s just one date, even Kate is joining along.” You tried your best to reassure him but it wasn’t happening whatsoever with the deep frown resting on his lips.

“Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He muttered under his breath, finally resigning by your decision, which you were thankful for. No need for you to try to convince him with anything.

“You owe me for this. I need some kind of motivation for tonight not to blow someone’s head.” He muttered.

And you spoke too soon.

“How about a day or two in that ritzy cabin you’ve been pestering me about for weeks now.” You offered.

One thing you truly hated was being too out of touch with society if you could avoid it. You have to do it for work, you weren’t so keen on doing it in your personal time if you didn’t have to. But your husband just was a recluse when he wants to be and this was one of those many instance that he will have his way.

“Deal and the ring stays on so they know you’re mine.” He muttered.

You smiled, lifting your hand up for him to see the sparkle of your engagement and wedding ring still nestled on your finger. Even without him saying it, you wouldn’t even dream of removing it.

The newly promoted Captain John Price should have been at the top of the world because of his new title, but it was far from the reality of it as he watched his beloved wife continue to mingle amongst both officials and fellow soldiers. It still shook him to the core how someone like you could command yet bring comfort to anyone that was privileged to be in your presence.

But that was just what made him love you so much. How someone like you, a Lieutenant to his own position as a Sergeant would never once use your position to demean him or treat him as anything less than you were. Some may say your call sign as Rookie to be an insult, a way to make you less than what you truly were, but you proved time and time again that it was a reassurance to anyone lower than you that you will stand on equal footing as them if the need arises especially on missions.

“Rookie’s already stealing the spotlight.”

John turned his attention to one unfortunate woman he had the misfortune of meeting in his life that turned his whole world upside down. Kate Laswell was an intelligent woman—far too much for her own good at times but she was the best of the best in her line of work. She was one of the main reasons why he was placed in a mission that ended with him finally climbing the ranks.

“As she should.” John agreed, subtle in his comments as to avoid anyone, especially Laswell from thinking anything was going on between the two of you.

“I still can’t believe she refused the promotion.” She continued taking a swig at the whiskey she was cradling, only bringing a craving for one in John himself.

“I’ve heard. I don’t think she’d be a good fit with the paperworks from the looks of it.” He added.

Of course he knew the very reason why you had refused the promotion on your own end. You were in all accounts a better fit than him to become a Captain, a rank that had been a well-deserved position for everything you’ve done but every single time the topic would be brought up you had threatened retirement or AWOL if anyone pushes. You never truly saw yourself as someone that would be working behind the desk, you couldn’t help and navigate dealing with officials, you admit you were never built for such capabilities.

“I believe she is. You should have seen her chew on Shepherd during the last mission. She’s got guts and a heart that not something you see in the field often.”

He nodded, that was what made you special. He watched you now begin a lengthy conversation with the well-known and very much feared soldier Ghost. How you had been the only one to hold a conversation and not trembled at the sight of the monster of a killing machine.

“Why am I not even surprise with her.” He chuckled turning his attention away from you and turning towards Laswell. “So, are we just gonna spend the entire night talking about Rookie?”

“That’s not much of an issue for you Captain.” Laswell smirked knowingly.

“Will I ever live that down?” He questioned, jokingly.

He was once again reminded of the time in his drugged state where he was delirious enough to propose to you after a mission gone wrong. To many it was just him too drugged from painkillers but for you it was an intentional proposal that you accepted once you were alone.

“You’re never gonna escape the allegations, John. I will never allow it.” Laswell smirked finally excusing herself when the MC has begun.

He made his way to this designated table, his eyes always following you. He watched as you made your way backstage to prepare for the auction later on tonight. It brought the never ending dread in the pit of his stomach as the staff began distributing the auction paddle around, accepting his own without an ounce of hesitation.

It will be a long night that much he has come to realize.

“One Thousand!”

You had faced so much trials and tribulation during your career in the military. The vile and often times immoral acts that was placed against you during interrogations and kidnapping, but nothing in your life could have given you more shame than to be standing in front of the stage as numerous bids have been placed upon your name.

Your eyes had been following along to the numerous of individuals that were bidding, some were colleagues your husband had been all too certain had hots for you, others were top officials that you were more than certain were pigs for involving themselves in the date auction knowing they were married, then there were the guests that had been leering at you all night long.

Maybe your husband was right, the auction was a big mistake.

Your eyes scanned the entire room until they met the familiar eyes of your husband. The reassurance had settled on his eyes as much as the annoyance but he was waiting for you to give him the signal.

Somehow with a simple nod it was all he needed to do to raise the paddle and his booming voice had silence everyone.

“Ten thousand.” His voice had everyone turning.

It was one of the highest bids for the night and it just had to be from the man himself. The rest of the night had been a blur, after the auction and countless of formalities and empty conversations, you had found yourself in the arms of your husband as he helped you back onto the car.

“You alright?” He inquired cupping your cheeks the moment he had helped you with your seatbelt.

“Will get better.” You assured him grounding yourself back to reality as he patted your cheeks and driving the two of you back to your shared apartment.

The car ride was silent, the event with the auction still playing in your head. It could go so wrong in many ways if your husband did not intervene. It was supposed to be for a good cause, but it did not feel like it when you stood in front of the stage. You felt more like meat being prepared to be slaughtered.

Eventually you two had arrived back. Your husband opened the car for you and led you back to you to your apartment. The silence was consuming you more than you expected it to.

“Want to sober up or not?” Your husband inquired.

You turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Sober up would be great right now.” You sighed following him to the kitchen, hopping onto the barstool by the kitchen island. Toeing off your heels in the process, an unintentional moan escaped your lips from the relief on your feet.

“I haven’t done anything yet and you’re already moaning, My Love?” He teased placing a mug of coffee in front of you, from the smell alone you were all too certain was too bitter for your taste.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll be the one to make you moan all night.” You quipped right back, cupping the mug and relief of the warmth washing away the events of the night.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked turning towards your mini bar and pour himself a hefty pour of whiskey.

“Surprised you didn’t threatened anyone at the party.” You pointed out.

“I could do lots of things, but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle for either of us.”

You nodded, watching him unbutton his uniform and sit beside you. Your head immediately finding their way onto his shoulder.

“I’ll pay you back what you paid for the auction.” You promised him.

“You would do no such thing.” He ordered. “You’re worth every pretty penny I’ve paid for tonight.”

You blushed at his words. Even in the years of being with the man, he still has his way of turning you into the girl that had always had a crush on the handsome gruff all only had eyes for you.

Your eyes turned towards your hand, the sparkle of your rings was always present and never once did you remove them even at the party. You wanted to keep your relationship private but never a secret and there are days that you wished to let the world know. But now with his new promotion and you having to lead yet another mission with the help of him now, you doubt it would be a good thing to do.

“You’re too sweet to me sometimes, even after how shitty the night turned out.”

“Nothing shitty about tonight. I get to see you all dressed up and all eyes on you knowing you’re gonna come home to me tonight and do whatever their empty little heads could formulate.”

You rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks and move him slightly too pull him into a kiss that you had desperately wanted to give him all night long. The taste of whiskey brought a sudden thrill through your core.

“Plan on showing it to me, Captain?” You purred and the way his eyes blew out, it was all notification you needed to know as you were unceremoniously lifted into his arms.

Whoever thought your husband had a Captain Kink?

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miniwheat77 · 8 months

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Tipsy. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW Smut, unprotected p in v sex, public sex, Price is being rough ;), alcohol, this is really short. Been sitting in my drafts for some time (sorry if I missed any.)

“I’m thinking we all go out. As a celebration.” Soap smiles.

“Oh please, you’re just looking for a reason to get your hands on some tequila.” John mumbles.

“Whaaaat? I would never.” He pretends to look offended. He shakes his head. “Alright fine. For just an hour though, nothing crazy.” John mumbles. Once they’ve arrived back at base they gather everyone up and they’re walking down the streets to get to the small club. It was nice being here, nobody knew who they were when they were dressed normally. It was peaceful. An hour later, you’re nowhere to be found.

“Is she still out on the dance floor?” Captain Price looks at his watch. “Yeah probably. You’ll have to drag her away Captain.” He rolls his eyes. “Christ in heaven, I didn’t sign up for this.” He grumbles, standing up from his spot at the bar.

They know exactly how you get when you drink, so sending their Captain out to get you is going to be funny. Your Captain hadn’t seen it yet. He was always so uptight, never wanted to go out. They knew you can be pretty persuasive, maybe it’d help him lighten up.

He’s shoving through the crowd to get to you and when he runs into you, you’ve got a grin on your face, grasping his hand and pulling him into you. He laughs awkwardly, you’re very pushy. “Uh.. it’s time to head back now.” He mumbles, you’re dancing in front of him. “Nooo. Come on. We just got here.” You grasp his hand, spinning around.

His eyes widen as you back your hips into him, moving with the beat of the song.

The rest of the task force is witnessing it, Soap is trying not to laugh. “He’s gonna kill us for sending him out there.”

“Oh absolutely, but it’s good for the old man.”

They can see how rigid he’s gone when you back your hips up into him. They can’t help but laugh.

“Y-Y/N. Stop.” He spins you around, you pull him into you. “Oh come on Captain. Live a little.” You smile. He swallows hard at how forward you’re being. You’re drunk. He’s drunk too, had a little more bourbon than he should’ve. He can feel himself getting hard in his jeans, something he hadn’t felt in ages. He growls when you back up into him again. “Y/N..” he grits his teeth, face near your neck.

“So. How many push ups do you think he’s going to make us do?” Gaz asks.

“Good question. I bet we’re up early for extra drills.” Soap laughs. Taking another drink of his Tequila.

You let out a gasp, tilting your head back to rest on his chest, feeling him hardening against your ass. “Captain..” you smile. Grinding back into him. “You’re in a lot of trouble for this.” He breathes, rocking his hips into yours. By now, the crowd around you has you buried between them and nobody is focused on the way you’re rocking into him. He grasps a handful of your hair, tilting your head back. His breath is hot against your ear. “Bathroom. Now.” He growls. You bite your lip, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. You can feel yourself sobering up, nervous as you make your way for the bathroom.

“She’s gonna keep him out there a while, I say we check out this pool table.” Soap nods. They all agree, standing up and making their way over to it.

You push open the door seeing your Captain standing in front of the sink. Luckily it was a small one person bathroom. He makes his way over to you, locking the door and pushing you up against it. “You’re a bad fucking girl, making a fool of me like that.” He growls. You look up at him, eyes wide and you appear intimidated until a smile creeps onto your lips. “I can make it up to you Captain.” You breath. “Oh you will baby.” He growls. He spins you around, pushing your face into the wall and forcing you to arch your back. Pushing your dress up over your hips. He pulls your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers over your bare pussy.

“Fucking soaked.. such a fucking slut.” He breathes. He unzips his cargo pants, tugging them down far enough to expose his aching cock. His tip is blushing red and leaking precum from being teased for so long. He spits in his hand rubbing it over the entrance of your pussy, feeling you mewl into him. He rubs his cock back and fourth over you until you’re whining.

When you don’t expect it, he’s thrusting into you. A gasp leaves your lips and your hands are resting against the wall, wishing you could hang onto something as he starts his aching hard thrusts into your pussy. Gripping your hair hard and pulling you back to kiss him, resting his hand on your throat as he fucks into you. “Such a bad fucking girl. You like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes- yes Captain!” You moan. “Mhm. I bet you do.”

“W-wanted you so bad.” You cry. Choking on sobs and cries as they leave your throat. “Yeah. I guess you got what you wanted hm.” He smiles. He wraps his hands around your waist, fucking into you and holding you tight. He hisses as you clench down on him, only now realizing just how long it’s been, how good you feel on him. “Fuck- gotta be quick before we get caught.” He breathes.

He pulls you back into him more, moving his fingers down between your legs and rubbing fast circles into your clit, you know you won’t last long. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum!” You whine, tilting your head back as he tugs on your hair once more. “Cum on my cock baby, yeah that’s it.” He growls. He’s right on the edge of his own orgasm, ready to let you have every bit of it. You pull away from him, and he growls. “What are you-“ you turn around to face him. “Wanna see you.” You breathe. He laughs, shaking his head. He grasps your thighs, lifting you up and pinning you to the wall behind you, a gasp leaving your lips at him manhandling you. His cock is slick with your orgasm still, making it easy for him to slide back into you. Hearing you moan. He pins your legs up, pressing his forehead to yours and thrusting into you, fast and hard. He’s reaching deeper places than before, growling as you start to claw at him.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him tight as he cries out. “M’gonna cum.” He gasps. “Gonna fuckin cum baby- fuck.” He grits his teeth, hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes, crying out as he finishes. He holds you tight to him, panting as he comes down from his high.

He pants hard into your shoulder. “Fuck.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “For what?” You breath, pulling away. “I was rough.” He breathes. “I haven’t.. done anything like this in a long time, I couldn’t control myself.” He breathes. You say nothing, deciding to kiss him instead. When he lets you down off of him, he slides out of you with a groan. “Fuck..” he sighs. “We should get back out there, they’re probably wondering where we are.” He laughs awkwardly. “Probably.” You smile, sliding your dress back down.

The both of you emerge from the bathroom, thankful that nobody is waiting outside.

When the both of you approach the pool table, you’re getting glances. “Finally got her off the dance floor ah?”

“Yeah, she’s uh.. quite the party animal.” He laughs. Hearing you laugh. “Nah I think she just sobered up enough to be done.” He lies. “Right, we’re just about done with this game.” Soap laughs, turning back to the table. They don’t see the way your Captain squeezes your ass as he passes by, a quiet gasp leaving your lips.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #alejandro mw2 #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #price x you #price x reader

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yiling-laozu-is-loml · 22 days

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You know what's sad about Wei Wuxian's death? Its not that a bunch of people disliked him and said 'die bitch!'. No. The thing with Wei Wuxian was that he had to die. There was no other way.

Wei Wuxian was kind, selfless, paid his debts and favours as deserved, cared about people, used his skills and cultivation for good of as many as he could, didn't shy away from danger or back down in the face of injustice. He was, in short, the very definition of what a cultivator should be. And that's why he had to die.

If he lived, corruption would have decreased and ended over time. If he lived, civillians and younger cultivators would've realized their rights and how they shouldn't take bullshit from clans. If he lived, next generations would've realized that rules and traditions were just constraints set to keep them under strict control and from realizing they didn't need all those useless elders after all. The system would've changed, no one would've tolerated all this extortion, corruption, nepotism, power imbalance, crimes that were swept under the rug due to the committers being influential. Absolutely no one.

And all that would've been caused by the existence and actions of one man. Wei Wuxian.

So how do we deal with that? We nip the evil in the bud. First use his horrible treatment at the hands of Jiangs as a base to show that yes, he's bad, his martial family treated him that way and they know him best. Then cutting off his allies by skewing their perception about him and his intentions. Then by sowing fear into hearts of allies and civillians. And then leading a siege to cleanse the world of 'evil' so that their bullshit won't be discovered or put a stop to even centuries later. So that his end would serve as a warning to anyone who wishes to rise against evil and corruption, as an unspoken threat to anyone who cared for people and their duties for real.

And it worked. It worked spectacularly. Anyone defying the rules was punished, anyone saying anything similar to Wei Wuxian's? Anyone trying to do real good or anyone following in his path was deemed evil. Their torture and murder were never even acknowledged, yet the rumours were spread to discourage others from trying. Even people who didn't follow his footsteps and chose to be righteous of their own accord didn't live to see the results of their goodness (Nie Mingjue, Xiao Xingchen, Song Zichen etc) and if they did, no one found out and they were forgotten quickly (Mianmian).

It worked so well that every harm that befell on anyone, whether it was from the gods or from someone playing god and taking advantage, was attributed to the Yiling Laozu's evil ways. He was dead, yet everything that went wrong was his fault. Your marriage didnt work out? Wei Wuxian was behind this, I am sure. There was a flood that destroyed years worth of your hard work? Sounds like the Yiling Laozu. You had a cough because you ate something cold in the winter? Pretty sure the evil Wei Wuxian is behind it, he has various very evil tricks up his sleeve. That Monster!

He was all-powerful, a man who didn't bend to the whims of gods or wills of mortals. Someone who could defy everyone if he woke up in the mood to.

The propaganda and brainwashing worked so well that people never stopped to ask themselves the question: If Yiling Laozu was truly so powerful, how did he get defeated by a bunch of corpses? How did the Ghost General, his most powerful weapon, get killed by a few dozen cultivators?

And thinking of that is depressing as fuck because he died solely so the rich could get richer, the evil and corrupt could advance in their evil ways (Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang) and everyone could stay on their carefully curated bubble of bliss with none the wiser about their deception, manipulation and bullshit about bloodlines and traditions (Jiang Cheng, The Lans, Jin Guangshan, etc).

#mdzs #modaozushi #mo dao zu shi #founder of diabolism #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #wei ying #mdzs meta #mdzs analysis #Wei Wuxian didnt die cuz he did something #he died because influential bitches decided he should #it was never his fault #never something to do with his deeds or cultivation #it was a ploy all the corrupt participated in #and with people none the wiser

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 1 year

Note

HELLOO COULD I request earth 42 miles morales saving reader from someone who tried to kidnap them and what he does after? Hope ur havin a gud day

Here

Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader

Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Langauge, mentions of death, a tiny bit of nudity, and mentions of violence

Requested: yes

A/N: OKAY ONE REQUEST DOWN MANY MORE TO GO. I wrote most of this sleep deprived on a plane so it might not flow the best but I tried. Still wanna try out headcannons so I might use that format for another request. I'm almost at 200 followers tysm I might do a prompt list and blurb night type thing.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“I’m gonna kill him.” Miles declared a little too calmly for Y/N’s liking. He looked for his shoes so he could get out of there.

Her heart had finally slowed enough to process what had just happened, the adrenaline wearing off.

Y/N worked the graveyard shift at a gas station a couple of blocks from her apartment complex. She had to save up for school and it rarely got busy that late. It wasn’t a bad deal.

She emptied out the register, but before taking out the trash, she texted Miles to see how far he was.

He always walked her home from work, however today she felt especially tired and Miles wasn’t answering his phone and it was barely a 10-minute walk to her apartment.

What she hadn’t expected was for someone to try and grab her on the way home, Miles had shown up at the exact right time to scare him off.

“Miles,” She called softly, using her voice to beg him to look at her. After a moment's hesitation, he finally looked over at her curled up at the edge of her bed.

He was so angry he was shaking. He snapped at Y/N on the way to her apartment he wasn’t mad at her but he needed someone to be mad at.

“Can you please come sit down?” She patted the spot on the bed beside her. He continued to pace around her room as if he were looking for something.

“Miles,” she begged again.

“I have to do something,”

“Just sit down,” The shakiness in her voice seemed to get him to listen. She grabbed the hand closest to her and held it tightly in her own, before leaning into his side.

She inhaled deeply, relaxing into his warmth and earthy scent.

“Don’t go, won’t change anything,”

“What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there?”

“But you were,” She reminded him.

“You could’ve been killed or worse.” He said. “And you want me to just do nothing?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” She countered. “Need you to stay with me,”

“I’m so sorry I was late,” He kissed her hand. Miles rarely apologized even when he absolutely should so she knew he meant it.

“Not your fault baby,” She mumbled into his shoulder to which he huffed incredulously. “I mean it.”

Instead of corroborating his innocence, he shed light on his thoughts.

“I keep thinking about you dying and it’s all because I didn’t get to you fast enough.” He sighed. “I can’t lose you too.”

Ever since his father's passing Miles had some pretty big shoes to fill. Head of the house, the son of a late police captain, but never just a kid.

Sucking in a breath Y/N immediately shifted her body to grab Miles’ face. She pressed his ear over her heart letting him listen to the continuous thump.

“I’m alive,” She whispered for only him to hear. “I’m right here.”

He twisted himself to hide his face in her chest and wrap his arms tightly around her waist, she ran her hands over the hair at the back of his head humming a song. Miles spoke up never moving his face “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,”

With a smile never stilling her hand movements she responded. “You don’t have to be a big macho man all the time you know?”

He finally released her with a small dismissive yeah. She pushed herself off the edge of her bed with a groan, bending backward to stretch her back. Miles leaned back on his elbows to watch her.

She made her way over to her dresser before he sat up and then spoke up. “Where you going?”

“I wanna take a shower,” She answered grabbing a plain cotton shirt and some underwear. “I feel dirty,”

He seemed content with her answer and leaned back on his elbows again. “Will you come with me?”

He raised his eyebrow suggestively before she laughed and threw the shirt at him.

“Not like that,” She clarified “You’ll just sit there. I don’t wanna be alone.”

He nodded grabbing the shirt off his chest before following her to the bathroom.

The stuffy humid air surrounded Miles as he sat patiently on her toilet seat.

“You still here?” You called over the running water.

“Yeah babe, still here.”

“Can you talk to me?”

“What’you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” She shrugged despite the fact he couldn’t see her behind the shower curtain. “Just tell me about your day,”

He told her about how in AP BIO they did fetal pig dissections and he got to cut into the brain. By the end of his spiel, she was listening to the creaky twisting of the knob to turn the water off. After asking for the towel she was making him turn around so she could get dressed shushing him before he could make an offhand comment.

He followed her back to her room pulling her comforter back so she could slip in. The second she hit the cool sheets her eyes fluttered shut, sleep dragging her down. He tucked her in, and before he moved to grab her bonnet she gripped his arm keeping him still.

“Don’t go home”

“I won’t, I’m just gonna grab your bonnet, swear,”

“Mhm,” She agreed, releasing his arm and curling in on herself.

He slipped into the bed next to her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest. She let out a hum of discomfort before turning to face him, her eyes still shut.

Miles stayed still watching her until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. Shuffling onto his side to reach into his pocket he pulled his phone out pausing when she stirred at the noise.

Opening the messages app he swiped on his uncle's contact texting him

Some white guy in Bushwick green civic and skull neck tattoo. Call me when you find him.

Shutting his phone off with a click he readjusted himself.

Y/N could say whatever she wanted he was going to kill that man.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #prowler!miles #prowler!miles x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales angst #miles morales smut #hannah responds ღ #hannah speaks ღ #miles morales x reader

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kiss-me-cill-me · 9 months

Text

Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you.

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting.

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you.

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked.

He just smiled.

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level.

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about.

“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder.

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest.

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar.

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well, you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him.

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?”

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?”

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg.

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure.

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual.

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered.

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper.

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked.

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed.

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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vexahlla · 3 months

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yet another cartoonishly evil thing i can explain I CAN SHUT UP!!!

first of all, this show is an exaggeration of itself at this point. we should just acknowledge that before anything else. but i do have actual things to say about this lol

let's be clear here, this is an absolute batshit decision from the writers. the song is pure camp. but the rest of it has some actual grounding.

penguin wants power, respect, and adoration. all things lacking from all the times he's been underestimated. he saw an opportunity to take gotham (fortune favors the bold!) and he took it. he grabbed power. he can force respect. he can be the sole provider of ammunition in his now ruined city.

now adoration on the other hand... he cannot grab or force that.

he's not talking about love here. he's talking about adoration. he may NEED love, but he's acting on his WANT.

ed's right here (i mean he shouldn't have said it about HIMSELF on the penguin-suffers-but-ultimately-gets-whatever-he-wants show) and it's a DIRECT result of his mother spoiling him.

oswald craves love but doesn't know how to give it. this was at the core of his and edward's initial conflict, this is something ed saw in him. he puts himself first. he grew last season in terms of martin, in terms of edward, but they are the exceptions to the rule. he valued his own revenge over his friendship with butch.

and so he starts season 5 with no friends, by his own hands. and it's different from all the way back in season one. he only had himself before. now he has less than nothing. he only wanted power then. now it's all he has. and it's corrupting. "i was not a good friend, to you or to anyone, it's why i'm alone." he's spiraling and everyone in gotham is collateral.

...speaking of adoration, let's talk about ed.

the reason oswald "fell for" ed was because he saw someone who would give himself entirely to him. ed is always desperate for the approval of authority figures. it's why he prioritizes finding "an enemy or a teacher" when he's trying to claim his identity. it's why he attaches himself to both oswald and lee.

if ed hadn't caught onto the cruelty and betrayal of trust with isabella, penguin would've used him the same way.

ed craves love but doesn't know how to recieve it. this was also present in their initial conflict. the reason ed shot os is because he couldn't face the truth of being in love with him. of being just like the man who took his girlfriend's life (how many partner's love interests has he himself tried to kill again?) the most repressed man in gotham city 💚

#i hope u guys understand i would NEVER defend a character's evil and i hate softening traits for fandom #we just need to talk about this DECISION FROM THE WRITERS #i like to have death of the author and look at a work as a whole and have my own interpretations #<- this is why i hated gotham as a show while it was airing i saw too much from the writers lmao #I NEED TO FIX THIS WHILE IT'S HAPPENING #idk im sick of this post i just wanna watch the ep now #oswald cobblepot #riddlebird #nygmobblepot #edward nygma #gotham fox #gotham tv

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devildomsoup · 1 year

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Silly little headcanons #1

Lucifer

Definitely has a favourite pen and everyone dreads the day he will have to change it.

He once shrunk Cerberus and carried him around in a handbag because he had to go to the vet.

Joint pains (no, I will not elaborate)

Has a picture in his wallet of his brothers and MC. Luke is also there for some reason.

Mammon

Will turn off the lights and walk out of his room. Walks back a few moments later to check if he remembered to turn the lights off.

Boops his younger brothers on the nose when he says goodnight.

Considered dying his hair piss yellow at some point.

He swears that Luke is just an annoying little chihuahua that he doesn't care about. But the pictures of him accompanying Luke to the cinema suggest otherwise.

Leviathan

He forgets to throw out socks with holes in them. So sometimes he will just walk around with socks that are barely holding on.

Has a controller that only MC is allowed to use. He will not even use it himself.

Can touch his nose with his tongue

Accidentally called his brothers "Ruri" on multiple occasions.

Satan

Has an album on his phone with pictures of him and Lucifer. Will deny it if you ask him.

Once cursed the entirety of Lucifer's record collection. The curse in question made it so the only song on any of the records was Baby Shark.

When he wants MC's attention he will go "pspspsps."

Satan has put on his blue jacket normally a grand total of 6 times.

Asmodeus

Will wear heels with just about anything. Yes, that includes sweatpants.

A lesser demon once found out about MC's deepest insecurity and started using it to insult them. Asmodeus found out and sent the demon flying through a wall.

He either sneezes like a cat or like an old man. There is no in-between.

He reminds everyone in HoL to drink water and will make sure they do so one way or another.

Beelzebub

Not allowed to be alone in RAD's art supply room. He will eat the paint if left unattended.

He only had 4 shirts until Asmodeus forced him to get more.

Takes Luke with him around RAD when Simeon can't. Also scared of any demon that looks at Luke the wrong way.

He has carried every single one of his brothers to bed more than once. Lucifer is no exception.

Belphegor

Follows the cat rule. If it fits I sits.

Don't tell anyone but his favourite blanket is the jackets of his older brothers.

Will sometimes force people to take a nap with him. Does someone look tired boom it's nap time.

Pops his back really loudly whenever he wakes up

Simeon

Will show anyone and I mean anyone pictures of Luke like a proud father.

Got scammed once and now he's afraid of opening links.

He once accompanied Beel to a workout and ended up destroying a punching bag.

Do not under any circumstances let him be alone in the candle section of a store. Purgatory Hall already has a closet full of them.

Raphael

Tried to kill a fly with one of his spears.

When asked if he wanted anything special for his birthday he requested a cake made by Solomon.

Enjoys watching butterflies flutter around. He will stand absolutely still if one lands on him and stay like that until the butterfly leaves again.

Wins every staring contest.

Luke

Has gotten lost in stores, parks and RAD so many times that he now has a bracelet with the contact info of Simeon and Barbatos. Even though he has his own D.D.D.

Mimics Simeon and Raphael to appear like a mature angel.

He will never admit it but he makes drawings for the brothers.

Luke and MC have a secret handshake.

Solomon

Immune to the pain of stepping on a lego.

Once accidentally turned himself into a rat and nearly got murdered by Barbatos.

Enjoys watching romcoms with MC.

Can and will randomly appear in MC's room tell them a horrible joke and then vanish into thin air.

Thirteen

She has the most random things in her pocket. Watch her pull out a porcelain frog from one of her pockets.

She had a buzz cut at some point.

Will drag you out of bed in the middle of the night so you can test her new inventions.

Loves playing with people's hair. It doesn't matter what texture or length it is. Just let her play with it.

Diavolo

Has a rubber duck collection.

Was introduced to vocaloid and now he won't stop singing World is Mine.

Gives the best hugs. 10/10 would hug again.

Buys Barbatos flowers every week to show his appreciation.

Barbatos

Knows how to tap dance.

Let's MC call him Barbie.

He receives small trinkets from the Little Ds.

Will cradle MC like a little baby when he is stressed or just missed them.

Mephistopheles

He enjoys soup.

He says he hates hugs. But in reality, he might even shed a few tears if you hug him.

A master of building card houses.

Once took care of a bat until it was healthy enough to live on its own.

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lainsshop · 8 months

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I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel

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thesilmarillionblog · 4 months

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition.

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy.

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