-GUTHOUND-: Il Capitano X Male Reader, SMUT

[6] - Night.

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At Sunset
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The walk continued in silence, but Capitano’s words lingered heavily in your mind. Celestial creatures, the curse, his talk of death... it was all too much to process. You had faced enemies, conquered challenges, but this? It felt different. How were you supposed to make sense of this...  of a man like Capitano, so strong and terrifying, quietly preparing for his own demise?

Finally, you stop in front of an inn, Capitano entering without hesitation. The place was almost empty, only a handful of weary travelers scattered at the bar, sipping their drinks in tired silence. Capitano made no attempt to announce himself beyond a subtle wave to the bartender, who nodded in understanding. There was a quiet air of authority to Capitano, something that even in the mundane act of entering a room, commanded respect.

You follow him upstairs to a big, simple room. It’s cozy, clearly designed with soldiers in mind. Snezhnaya had always revered its Fatui, and even more so its Harbingers, so it wasn’t surprising to see inns like this with private quarters made specifically for them. The walls were bare, but the beds were sturdy, and the room carried the smell of wood smoke and cold air.

"Rest now... we have a long battle ahead of us tomorrow," Capitano finally breaks the silence, turning to face you.

You find yourself staring at him for a moment, the weight of his earlier words still gnawing at your thoughts. The idea of sharing a room with him feels strange, unsettling even. Here was a man you once sought to kill, yet now you were about to sleep in the same space. It’s disarming, especially after learning of his unsettling wish for death. He hadn’t been afraid to mention it, to almost welcome it... and that, more than anything, left you conflicted.

You glance around the room, inspecting the beds; some makeshift, some more permanent, scattered throughout. The space was designed for groups, for soldiers to rest after long missions, not for two individuals with as much tension between them as you and Capitano. Choosing one of the more solid-looking beds, you sit down slowly, still aware of the unease in the air.

Capitano moves to a bed far from yours, showing no sign of hesitation. He removes only his boots and coat before sitting on it, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his posture rigid. There’s a strangeness to it... how casually he sits there, as if the danger surrounding him meant nothing. As if the very idea that someone might harm him, even you, was irrelevant.

It makes you wonder: do important people like Capitano ever really rest? Do they even get the chance? Or is every moment a battle in itself, even when the war is far from the battlefield?

You start undressing, your movements slow, as your thoughts drift. The room is cool, but your skin prickles more from the strangeness of this situation than from the cold. You remove your mask, the air brushing against your exposed face. As you lie back on the bed, now only in your pants, you cast a glance at Capitano.

He hasn’t moved, hasn’t once looked in your direction. His mask hides his expression, making it impossible to tell whether he’s asleep or merely watching, always alert. There’s something unnerving about it... the way he sits there, silent and still, like a sentinel who never rests. You can’t help but wonder if he’s waiting for the morning, or if the night itself is just another battlefield for him.

You close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come easily. His words, his mission, his wish to die — it all churns in your mind, making the darkness behind your eyelids anything but peaceful. And somewhere deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that tomorrow’s battle might not be against an enemy at all.

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???
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Your vision flickers, your sight blurring as you blink, trying to hold on to consciousness. But your body betrays you, dragging you to the ground.
Staring at the ceiling inside Adler, you take heavy breaths, your body trapped in a strange mixture of pain, tiredness and lust.
The pain that your wounds and exhaustion caused you slowly become more evident as your adrenaline tunes down, reminding you of the harsh fact that this battle was yours to lose from the very beginning.

Even through your blurred senses, you can feel Capitano’s approach... his presence heavy and commanding, bringing with it a faint coolness against your fevered skin.
"Your thirst for battle exceeds your strength," his voice cuts through the air, cold and detached. You weakly manage to lift your eyes to his towering form, your body betraying you as exhaustion weighs it down.

Capitano’s own breath is labored, blood still dripping from the wound in his side. "You were enjoying this, weren’t you?" His voice is lower now, edged with something darker.
Suddenly, his boot presses down on the painful bulge in your pants, forcing a strained moan from you. The pressure sends a shockwave of pleasure and pain through you, your body jolting despite its weakness.
"I’ve seen warriors like you before... aroused by the thrill of cruelty..."
His words hang in the air, heavy with disdain and fascination, as your body responds involuntarily to hit boot rubbing against your crotch, heat rising against the pain.

You slowly lift your gaze back to Capitano, trying to gauge his intentions, but your attention is drawn to the unexpected sight of his pronounced bulge.
Your eyes widen in surprise, breath still heavy from the exhaustion of battle. He continues speaking, his voice steady, "...how unfortunate that I am one of them."

Capitano plants his foot back on the ground, then leans down to grab you by the hair, pulling you roughly onto your knees. "Ah-" you gasp as he forces your face level with his bulge, the outline of his large cock clearly visible beneath his pants.

"Guthound. Now act like the worthless slut you are and take responsibility for your actions," Capitano murmurs, his deep voice laced with a dark seduction. His grip on your hair tightens as he pulls your head closer, pressing his confined bulge firmly against your cheek.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you're frozen. The warmth of his crotch seeps into your skin, a stark contrast to the icy tension in the room. Slowly, he begins to move your head, his bulge rubbing against your cheek with deliberate, teasing motions. He lets out a shaky breath, the soft sound pulling at something deep inside you.

You gulp, the heat of your own arousal growing even more intense at the intimate sensation. With a slow, trembling hand, you trail your fingers up his thigh, feeling the firm muscle beneath. As your hand reaches the hem of his pants, your breath quickens. Under his intense, anticipating gaze, you carefully unzip his pants, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his underwear. You can feel the weight of him straining against the fabric.

With a final deep breath, you slide his underwear down, just enough for his cock to spring free, its size and thickness immediately commanding your attention...

(Brutal cliffhanger ik)