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vilsoo · 1 month

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CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SPIDER

⸻ 🕷️‧₊˚ ⋅ spiderman!gojo satoru x black cat!reader obsessed with the hunt more than the prey, you love making satoru chase you. maybe one day you’ll let him catch you…

TAGS. robbery, theft, chase scene, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, flirting, eventual rough smut, slight stalking, use of petnames (cat, kitty, etc), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, switchy!gojo, switchy!reader, WC: 3,670

gojo has never met anyone as reckless as you.

it was always in your nature to be so cunning, playful, and whimsical just to get what you want. but there was much more about you that he’ll forever admire; your intelligence, proficiency, skills, and agility as his partner alongside. you used to work together professionally, taking down criminals and carrying out missions while also having an intimate relationship together.

but aside your flirtatious, provocative side that gojo also had a thing for, you were still a criminal deep down.

he strongly believed that he could have a positive influence on you and not live the rest of your life as a thief. but your criminal instincts always got the best of you; you valued your independence and desires more than anything, enjoying your luxurious life of crime as a relentless and manipulative burglar. when gojo caught you stealing from the criminals you both fought, everything had to end that day from such betrayal. your mistrust and moral ambiguity was too much for him to handle as spiderman.

as the years gone by of working alone and saving the city millions of times now, you still come and go across gojo’s mind. you were nowhere to be found and unable to track no matter how hard he looked. as badly as he misses you alongside with him, he just couldn’t handle the conflicting loyalties, trust issues, and moral differences between you two. but there was no doubt that he still has love for you deep down… he’d often wonder what were to happen if you were to ever cross paths again.

“there’s been suspicious activity going down at the art museums and large bank corporations in tokyo and shibuya. many valuable art pieces have gone missing along with over 70 million yen robbed in just a blink of an eye…”

it was currently 12:07am in tokyo. gojo made his way inside the tokyo national museum while it was closed, checking if every art piece were still intact including the security protocols. he knew he wasn’t really supposed to be sneaking inside here, but he’s dedicated on catching this thief, even if it’ll piss the police off for stealing their job (like he always dowes) and taking care of things in his own way. but that’s how gojo rolls— technically considered as a vigilante, he’ll always be a menace to some people in the city, even the ones in authority. if only he wasn’t so whimsical and cocky about being better than the cops at doing their jobs sometimes…

as gojo was scanning the museum, nothing seemed out of place. even his spidey-sense couldn’t recognize any kind of movement, danger, or threat nearby. the showcase room with tokyo’s national treasures all looked perfectly fine— but it wasn’t until he passed by the katana displays.

a tiny black cat figure was sitting on the silk drape where the 10th-century crescent moon blade was supposed to be. though he was alert that an artifact was already missing, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trick this was. but when a click from the black cat went off, a demure voice recording started playing.

“hey, spider. been thinking about you a lot lately. it’s just boring living alone in this new house… maybe some new decorations wouldn’t hurt. like the crescent moon katana, one the five swords under heaven. i think it’d look lovely on my shelves, don’t you think?”

your voice heightened every nerve of his body as if his inhibitions were tossed out the window. his head darted at every corner of the showcase room, looking for cameras or even a sign of you lurking in the shadows. every thought of his was consumed by flashbacks of you; your scent that drives him crazy, your touch that drives him wild, your flirtatious side that gojo just couldn’t get enough of… all of your memories flooded right back into his head.

“black cat,” gojo marveled, suddenly coming back to his senses after realizing you were alive this whole time. “i should’ve known— 70 million yen in just one night? i didn’t think there’d be anyone that skilled to pull that off better than you can. still been a bad kitty, haven’t you?”

“aw. are you flirting with me already? seems like you missed me,” you teased through the speaker on the black cat toy.

“you ghosted me for months and here i find you again; catching you stealing art or starting your own heist,” he exasperated. “what’s it gonna take for you to actually stop stealing art?”

you couldn’t help but admire gojo through the security cameras; he still looked as good as the last time you left him. “you already know me, spider. my morals aren’t ever aligned with yours. now, you gonna get out of there and catch me or wait until the security system gets triggered?”

suddenly, the alarm went off right after you already made your escape out of the museum. cursing under his suit, gojo had to find a way out and avoid the red flashing lights and cameras. from the window, he can see you swinging with your grappling hook out from the museum and into the city.

“quick! check everything,” a man’s voice echoed down the hall when a rush of dozen security guards scurried into the showcase room.

gojo had to immediately attach onto the ceiling and hide in plain sight, looking for any nearby exits as quick as he could before you could get away this time. when he found a sunroof window that can be pushed open, he made his way out and started swinging towards the direction you were going.

it didn’t even take long for him to find you; he knew exactly what you were doing; making your way through the cityscape and pretending that he wasn’t following right behind you from a distance. you really wanted to get caught. or maybe you were luring him right where you wanted him to be…

“oh, you’re still with me!” you pretend to act shocked as you looked behind your shoulder, hauling yourself onto a crane and staying higher above him. you wanted to keep him at a distance where he can’t reach you, but he can follow you until you reached your hideout.

gojo grunted, remembering the fact that you can swing a little faster than him. “i can go all night if that’s what it takes!” he shouts.

“all night with me? is that a promise, satoru?”

“you naughty girl. still trying to flatter your way out of this?”

“oh, but you love when i do that!”

the two of you kept swinging through the city, through the streets, and even underground where all the train stations were busy. as exhausted as he was, he was still dedicated to reach you. maybe even capture you and pin you down with his webs for running away from him. as you swung through a darkened alleyway, gojo managed to draw closer and was preparing to shoot a web to temporarily stop you. but at the end of the alleyway, you suddenly disappeared. he landed on a window with a loud thud and panted heavily, looking everywhere for you.

“damnit,” he cursed under his breath. “where’d she go?”

as gojo crawled across the building’s windows and was about to haul himself over onto the rooftop, he peaked over and instantly recognized your shoes. you were heading through the doors of the building that appeared to be the balcony of a fancy penthouse, looking behind your shoulder with a smirk on your face before heading inside.

you were a naughty, yet clever girl in gojo’s eyes.

as quiet and sneaky he could be, he landed on the balcony and swung on top of your penthouse’s windows to not be seen. gojo had a sense that you knew he was watching— but then again, this is exactly you wanted. purposely discarding what you stole from today’s heist, you knew there was something else that you desired besides all that money and fancy artifacts you stole. you feigned oblivious about gojo literally stalking you. it made you want to spice things up a bit…

you whirled around to face your body mirror and slowly zipped down your latex black suit. slowly stripping down for him, as if you were throwing a little show— even the neighbors across the building could also enjoy. but you took pleasure and thrill from teasing gojo like this, always from a distance where it’ll tempt him to draw closer to you. he loved how coy you tried to play for him. maybe he wanted to get you back and give you the attention you were wanting. as he crawled on your large windows and made his way on the rooftop, he entered through your open sunroof window and landed in the middle of your living room with a loud thud.

but as he scanned the inside of your penthouse, you were gone. nowhere to be found in the last place he saw you. of course, you were wildly unpredictable to him. always pulling your own tricks and surprising him off guard. it wasn’t until it was too late before his spidey-sense could warn him that you were attacking him from his peripheral vision— before he could pull a move and defend himself from you jump attacking him, you grab his arm and flip him over on his back, straddling him as he grunted in pain.

“woah. breaking and entering now, spider?” you huffed as you hovered your masked face above his. “i don’t think it’s fair that i get in trouble for it but you don’t.”

“trouble?” gojo scoffed. “you’ve caused enough trouble for me tonight, sweetheart. i played your little game and chased you down the whole city. and now i finally caught you just like you wanted me to.”

your lips curl into a smirk as your gloved hand slowly caresses his chest. your suit wasn’t even zipped down all the way, only revealing more of your cleavage that gojo definitely couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“technically you didn’t catch me. i caught you— stalking me through my windows and watching me undress myself? maybe i’m not the only naughty one here…”

“oh, please. what exactly did you gain from stealing and making me chase you all the way to your penthouse? ‘cause i know exactly what you’re doing right now…”

the tone in gojo’s voice falls from stern to sultry, feeling your heartbeat grow rapid in just a fleeting moment. there was this unexplainable affect that gojo had on you when you two were together. he’d evoke such strong sensations that you never knew you were capable of feeling, like tempting you to go straight and become a hero like him to fight alongside with. as a thief and wanted criminal, it’s palpable that good boys like gojo satoru were your type… you may have loved him, but you couldn’t love anything more than the hunt and the luxury.

your faces were just mere inches away from each other; you still memorize his prominent features that you adorned like how you memorized dozens of safe codes. but as gojo fixates his gaze onto you underneath his mask, you have eroded his senses once again, the way your dark mystery drizzles into his skin. he couldn’t fight nor deny how effortlessly you beguile him, wrapping him in some sort of spell. he fumbled several missions in the past just to kiss your pretty face, to sneak away on rooftops and get down to business from how crazy you make him, and developing serious romantic feelings for you that he was willing to make you more than just his girlfriend and partner— if only you had not betrayed him…

“don’t you miss this, satoru?” you cooed to his ear as your hand makes its way to the neckline of his mask. he can feel the way your fingers slipped underneath, gently caressing his neck and wanting to lift it just to reveal lips.

gojo would be lying if he said he didn’t. hot flashbacks of all the times you two made love and fucked each other hard in the past started running through his mind it was impossible to evade. he missed you deeply; he could never fight off the irresistible effect you have on him.

“you brought me all the way here for a reason. might as well make the most of it, right?”

suddenly, gojo pushes your body off his and hovered above you now, snatching his mask off and tossing it away in urgency as he kisses you. he can feel the way your lips stretch into a smile as you kiss back, immediately wrapping your legs around him and running your fingers through his snow-white hair. your body falls weak from his knee pressing between your legs, remembering your ultimate weakness.

gojo’s mouth made its way from your lips to the side of your neck, holding back from kissing your collarbone to get one good look at you one more time. his ultimate weakness was your luscious, expensive scent— whatever perfume you had was like a strong pheromone to him, sending his mind into a haze. but he still managed to remain in control, no matter how dominant you tried to act towards him.

“if you’re gonna strip for me, why didn’t you finish, hm? you wanted me rip your suit off for you or what?”

“do it, spider. i dare you,” you taunt, subtly biting your lip.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head in response to not giving you what you want. “nah… i don’t think i should ruin it. do what you did earlier and strip for me while i watch you.”

even if you wanted to act all defiant and bratty towards him and not give him what he wants, there was a part of you that wanted to throw a little show for him. gojo sat down on your sofa with his arms propped on the back cushions, slightly manspreading. you always knew how truly perverted he was underneath that “hero” facade he has for the public, which is why you fell for him.

as you stood in front of him with a smirk, you slowly pulled down the zipper to your suit. gojo watched in silent amusement watching the sleeves fall from your shoulders, slowly revealing your tits and your laced thong, all the way until your black leather suit pools around your ankles.

“‘atta girl,” he says, shifting himself on the sofa from how uncomfortable his boner was under his spider suit. “not so hard following directions, am i right?”

“following directions is not the only thing hard for me right now…” your gaze lands on his crotch, prompting you to get on your knees and crawl right between his open legs, making him nervous. “poor spider. looks like there’s something else that needs to be taken care of.”

now you were back in control of gojo, who had to hide his face flushing red from your hands caressing his inner thighs. you looked so fucking sexy to him, even when you’re teasing him on your knees right in your penthouse living room with the police probably on the search for both of you right now. he lets you pull down the lower seam of his suit as he slips off the top part and discards everything on your floor, finally taking in his heavenly body and strong physique that you admired for the longest. it felt like old times, with both of you half-naked and craving deep intimacy one last time.

“i really did miss you, cat,” gojo murmured, peering deep into your eyes.

you get up off your knees and straddled him, feeling his soft hands glide down your bare back and caressing your waist. “i missed you too, satoru.”

he lets out a sigh when he feels the wet spot on your panties subtly rub on his aching cock poking through his briefs. “if i make you come multiple times tonight… will you promise to be a good girl and stop stealing?”

“is that another way of telling me you want to fuck my brains out right now?” you teased, subtly grinding your hips on him. “fine, i’ll oblige. you did promise to go all night with me.”

and as the night went on, gojo really fulfilled his promise of fucking you multiple rounds, multiple positions, and multiple orgasms. hell, you lost count that it was probably way more than him. it astounded you that he was lasting this long with you compared to when you two were together; always this sweet, shy, and submissive boy for you that couldn’t last two rounds because of how you were always in control. sure, after he was bitten by the radioactive spider that gives him his strength and super powers, he was still sensitive and more prone to orgasms because of his heightened senses. but now that time has passed and you haven’t seen each other in a long time, it seems that his stamina has increased dramatically.

your orgasms were way more intensified that you lost all coherence from how mindblowing gojo kept fucking into you much further and faster, wrapping his large hand around your throat from behind and slightly choking you. never have you been so turned on you couldn’t see straight.

“you can take it all, cockslut,” he huffed in your ear. “just can’t stop coming all over my cock, eh? you miss when i turn you into my dumb little whore?”

you tried to reply, but your words slurred and your thoughts were mush. all you could do was moan pathetically as lust speared through you from his words. your head grew so hazy with intensity that the world around you started spinning. you looked like you were in a daze, your face all glossy and sweaty from him fucking your throat so roughly and coming all over your face earlier.

gojo chuckles, harshly slapping your ass and pulling your hips back and forth on his cock. you could hear his animalistic groans and growls filling your ears from how fucking good you felt clenching around him. “i need to hear you say yes. c’mon, kitty. be an obedient slut for me.”

“y— yes, satoru,” you whined, almost squirming in his grasp when he started playing with your clit from behind. “i like— i like being your dumb… little whore…”

gojo can feel his orgasm building inside you as well that he had the urge to pin your head down on the cushions while roughly slapping his hips onto your ass. he loved the way your ass was rippling with every harsh thrust and every harsh slap.

“fuck, cat. i’m gonna come inside your cunt if you keep throbbing on me like that,” he grunted. “will you promise to stop stealing from now on? i’ll give you one more orgasm if you promise for me…”

your back was arched all the way as your moans were muffled by your cushions. you couldn’t stop drooling either that it left a few marks. “i— i promise…! please, please come with me, satoru. come inside me again, i need it…”

the way you kept begging and became so feral had gojo immediately lose himself, shooting hot, sticky white strings of cum into your womb. your cunt couldn’t stop flexing and tightening all over his cock as if you were trying to push him out from such an intense orgasm. sweat was trickling down the both of your skins, bodies flashing hotter than ever as you both collapsed on your cool sofa. gojo laid down on top of you, feeling the rapid beating of his heart and hearing him catching his breath. he looked so adorable that you ran your fingers through his hair, wanting nothing but to indulge in this sweet, intimate moment of cuddling just like old times.

“do you really mean it?” he suddenly murmurs.

“…mean what?”

“you promise you won’t ever steal again?” gojo hovered above you, his expression so profound as he peered deeply into your eyes, like there really was a chance of hope and redemption for you. that was all he ever really wanted; for you to be his partner alongside again, to make you a hero again and utilize your talents for helping people other than yourself.

but then again, you were unpredictable to the spider. there was nothing you loved more than the chase.

“hm. and what if i break that promise?” you smirked. “what are you gonna do if i steal again?”

“then… i’ll just have to tie you up next time and teach you a lesson,” he mirrored your smirk. “but i bet you’d love that, so… maybe i’d have to turn you in, then.”

“i’m kidding satoru. i don’t ever break promises,” you confide, softly caressing his face. “i promise to be by your side and not steal. we can be together just like old times… but only one condition.”

“…which is?”

“spend the nights with me here, satoru,” you whispered fondly. “i don’t wanna be alone every night again.”

gojo planted sweet kisses on your forehead, on both sides of your face, and on your lips, slowly turning into a passionate make-out session. “if that’s what it takes for you to never steal again… i’ll stay with you. promise.”

it was a shame, though. how gullible that spiderman, gojo satoru, could be sometimes. because that following morning when gojo was still sound asleep on your bed, you had to take your leave before the police arrived right at your location where all the missing stuff were hiding. you left a kiss mark on the side of his face with black lipstick and another black cat toy right beside him. as quiet and sneaky you could be, you escaped through your sunroof with a smirk on your face, not looking back on gojo who was soon to be framed for stealing.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #spiderman!gojo satoru #black cat!reader #spiderman fic #black cat spiderman

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st4rrth0ughts · 5 months

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There's not enough sub!Sampo out there thank you for writing it <3 I just want to put him in a mating press and breed him. Maybe be his sugar daddy and make him wear slutty outfits. He's a whore (affectionatly)

a/n :aghsshsk anon you read my mind holy shit (+ tw, sampo being a little shit) [edit, sorry for the long ass wait, anon, i lost motivation T-T

Sampo being fucked silly by sugar daddy reader. 💎💚

Its a match made in heaven, whether the unspoken feelings between you two went unsaid or not. You wanted company, and had too much money for yourself to spend alone. Sampo was more than willing to be the one for you to dote on. Its pretty nice, coffee dates, spoling your purple haired sweetheart, you could say that the cunning man knew the effect he had on you. But sometimes, he steps out of line, flirting with other people, even he needs some punishment.

You knew Sampo was probably doing this just to get on your nerves. Its no secret that he's always turned on by you manhandling him in the bedroom like he was a toy. Perhaps the last straw for you was when he sent you photos while you were at work, with your pretty sugar baby in a outfit that made your cock bulge embarrassingly large in your pants. He was making a lewd face at the camera, a vibrator shoved into his pussy with the caption, wish it was you inside me, sweetheart <33. When you get home, he's protesting as you drag and lock him in the bedroom, but the glint in his eyes tell you that he knew damn well this would happen.

Fuck him in that outfit he was wearing earlier, tears pricking his eyes as you stuff the vibrator into his cunt, turning it at max speed while he whimpers and begs you to have mercy on him, saying he'll be your good boy. Well, too late for that, you think as he throws his head back, squirting hard around the toy, as you gently coo and let it continue to overstimulate him, fingers finding their way to trace over his nub, making him arch against the bed like a cat in heat. His eyes are wide open as he throws his head back, his arms restrained by the handcuffs bounding him to the bed post.

Reaching down and burying your face into his cunt, your tongue plunging into his cushy walls, making him squeal and pull agaisnt his restraints so hard its bruising his wrists. Despite all that, he's still being a good boy and keeping his legs open for you to ravish him, and your all too happy to oblige. Stuffing another finger into his pussy as you find spots so deep in him the thief is seeing stars as he bucks his hips into the air. He lets out a pretty wail when you shove your length into him at one go, his stomach bulging from the sheer size of you, which is something he'll never get used to.

Fondle his tits as your cock pounds into him from behind as he arches his back harshly, he’ll claw at the sheets, your back, your arms, but it’s futile as your hands maintain their grip on his waist, your mouth and soft lips roaming over his neck. His cunt is dripping while his head lolls back, dazed eyes looking back at you. lifting him up from the bed as your hands hold him, his legs dangling over the ground limply as your cock hits all the right spots deep in him, his cum leaking around you and forming a small pool on the carpet, his hands trying to claw at your arms as he whines out for you to stop, only to cry softly when you actually do show signs of slowing down, stuffing two fingers down his throat to muffle him as he’s left midair being fucked silly by you.

Getting him into a mating press while he panics slightly at how deep you push into him, your cock fits so much nicer like this, and he shrieks when you start to fuck his cervix. His hands held above him in a firm grasp as he tries to struggle away from you, begging for a break as your length splits him open again, loud wails and sobs filling the room as his knees are folded to his chest, aeons, he can feel you fucking his cervix so harshly that the bed is creaking from your movements. he comes undone with a sharp moan, his body laying limp against the pillow, but oh dear, your not done with him. Your sure he can handle just a few more rounds for his daddy, cant he?

#✦honkai star rail!#✪fics!#✪anon!#dom male reader #dom reader #sub honkai star rail #sub hsr #dom gn reader #sub character #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #sub sampo #sampo smut #sampo x reader #sampo koski #hsr sampo #raah so sorry it took so long anon

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notjustjavierpena · 10 months

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The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down.

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them.

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets.

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness.

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello.

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too.

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.”

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles.

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could.

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips.

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask.

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable.

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter.

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.”

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in.

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.”

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text.

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now.

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues.

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims.

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.”

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal.

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you.

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right.

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life.

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.”

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved.

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed.

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before.

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again.

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.”

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly.

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you.

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy.

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place.

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come.

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body.

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil.

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you.

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees.

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms.

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his.

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back.

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out.

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs.

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.”

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step.

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again.

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it.

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

Join my taglist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #tlou hbo #my writing #dilf!joel

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ask-captain-gepard · 7 months

Text

INFORMATION

"My name is Gepard Landau, I'm a captain of the Silvermane Guards. If you discover anything suspicious in the city, you can always report it to me."

Rules.

-Nothing NSFW. Mod is a minor. Blood, guts and gore is allowed if you ask.

-Hate and Discrimination is not allowed in the slightest.

-Want to ship something? Ask beforehand. (I will say that I don't do OCs, personal preference, sorry.) This doesn't mean I don't want OC asks, and is just limiting them to being platonic.

-mod lives in EST but has a shit sleep schedule. Be patient with response times. Harrassing mod for responses will result in your asks being ignored.

-YOU CAN JOIN THREADS WITHOUT ASKING. PLEASE DO IT. I LOVE TALKING N MEETING NEW PEOPLE AIDHDJ

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Tags

- Sis and Lynxy. (Stuff referring to Lynx and Serval.)

- Lady Bronya (obvious.)

-That Cunning Thief (sampo koski in general.)

-That cunting thief. (specifically @silly-sampo . im tired of putting both tags akbdidiek)

- Under my Protection. (Belobog, duh.)

- Silvermane Guards (The guards, also duh.)

- Trailblazers. (The Nameless.)

- Who? (Other factions.)

- Gepard Answers (Asks.)

- Falling through Hoyoverse (genshin impact crossovers.)

- moddie (mod. duh. ooc stuff.)

-‐----------------

Headcanons that will be used.

‐--‐--------------

- His Gauntlet is a Prosthetic

- He will lay on top of you depending on who you are. The cat genes are there. (Gepard, Leopard.)

- When he's nervous, he'll touch his amputation scar, or the connection of his prosthetic to his nub.

- In most situations he'll look to Bronya for guidance when she's there, trusting her judgement before his own.

- He savors every meal like it's his last, because it's true. [He is well aware he can die at any time.]

- He's what I call a 'baby gay'. He's only just realized he's gay, and he doesn't know/understand much about being gay.

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my hsr accounts

this one

@ask-serval-landau

@blades-and-spiderlillies

@wildfires-butterfly

@guide-firefly

More may be added later

@dr-golden-ratio

@best-space-pup

@stellarons-vessel (caelus)

masterpost made by one of my pals is right here

(This should've gone up when I made the account in October. Sorry.)

#sis and lynxy #under my protection #moddie #who?#trailblazers #silvermane guards #gepard answers #lady bronya #that cunning thief #falling through hoyoverse #that cunting thief #Gepard finally figures out he's gay. The post

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

Note

Monster!141 with a fox!reader that thinks she's so smart and strong before meeting 141 of course!! All she wanted was to hunt in new land but now she's been captured by some monsters:(((

Awwww! She is such a smart cookie, she knows how to use all of her assets - from her pretty appearance to her enhanced athletics and ability to squeeze into the tightest spots so she could steal precious supplies from some group of dumb, burly hybrids who think they can pick on someone smaller...fox hybrids are in better position than the most - they are not used as a breeding stock, at least, being predators that are known for their cunning strategies and ability to steal everything both from each other and other hybrids. This is exactly what doomed you in the end. You see, when you're dealing with dumb, burly male monster hybrids and constantly steal their supplies - mostly food, but also clothes and some weapons to sell - they get to track your scent better and better each time, especially when you deal with other canine hybrids...and Soap would be the one to catch you first. It's either him or Ghost - and trust me, you don't want the undead guy to be the one to catch you. At least Soap would be so excited that he finally catches pretty little thief, that you could kinda convince him to go easy on you - that you could pretend to be sorry for stealing from them, and he'd just fuck you, a fat knot in your pussy and you squirm and try to convince him not to breed you. He would drag you to the base after this, of course - or share you with his lieutenant immediately, forcing the shadow tendrils to squeeze your warm body, playing with it no matter how much you resist. You hate them both so much, especially since Ghost is so insisting on calling you a dumb girl who is getting her holes pounded because a stupid fox thought she could deal with the real hybrids... Price would drag you over his knee and make you yelp and cry as he spanks you for each item you stole from them. No matter how much you scratch and yell, no matter how you try to scramble off him, he would not let you go - poor, pathetic, dumb girl, you really thought they will let you to in peace? He will have Kyle stroke your clit and pinch your tits in the middle of spanking session, making this dumb fox hybrid so confused and teary from them...you will yell at him, of course, you have a wile mouth that you use to curse them - but in the end of the day, you're the one who is getting her butt spanked and her holes used by four hybrids who you thought to be too stupid to notice your antics anyway. Well...who is laughing now, right?

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if-loves · 28 days

Text

etude tableau op. 39 no. 6 (little red riding hood)

// Yandere Boothill

sum: The wolf wins.

wc: 2696

warnings: written before boothill release, boothill character story spoilers, fem! reader

a/n: i love cowboys

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

You’re good at hiding.

As a child, your favorite game to play was always hide-and-seek with your siblings, with you as a hider. You prided yourself on always being the last to be found, if they ever found you at all, but you were never the seeker; you never found the role as appealing, nor were you really any good at it.

You were a child when you decided that you always wanted to play hide-and-seek. Whenever you watched those cartoon shows of those silly characters running away from each other on the dingy television in your small house, you liked to imagine yourself in the shoes of the runner. The type stunts you’d pull off, the unique places where you’d hide, the strange disguises you’d put on to escape capture - that was your dream.

All children want to live their dreams, but not all of them get to. Many give up and leave, or worse, forget their dreams, leaving them to the past, while others cling on to them but are forced to part. There are few who are lucky enough to live their dreams, but the effort required is no small amount. No, you risked your life to be able to do what you loved most.

You started off as a thief, stealing candies from the local store. You liked those candies, but your family was far too poor to afford them regularly, making theft your only option. A child like you had no place at work.

The thefts grew bigger over the years, from small candies to necessities and finally to precious jewelry. You didn’t like that there were people out there who could afford everything they wanted and more, when there were people like your parents who had to work day and night to be able to even afford a home. This resentment grew, until it eventually morphed into a desire to be the greatest thief the universe had ever heard of. If you couldn’t and didn’t want to work, then you’d just steal!

One day you left, but not before leaving your parents and siblings the money you earned from exchanging precious goods. Staying in this world was not what you wanted, and you were going to get yourself free by any means necessary, even if that meant leaving everything you’ve ever known behind.

Before you left however, you picked out a red coat, bright as blood. You remember a story from your childhood, one your mother told you and your siblings when she finally wasn’t working. It was called Little Red Riding Hood, and it stuck with you. You enjoyed the cunning wolf, and you even found it particularly funny that he dressed up as her granny. It was unfathomable to you. Surely anyone would notice if their grandmother had become a big hairy wolf with sharp teeth, wouldn’t they?

Little Red Riding Hood's naivety was almost adorable. She was a child, so the blame was on the mother for the most part - who would allow their child, probably no more than ten years old, into the woods of all places, alone?

The ending of the story was a tad bit sad, but at the same time you admired how the wolf was smart about getting its meal. Thus, you wished to be cunning and sly like the wolf, but appear innocent like Red Riding Hood. It would also serve as a reminder of your home, and like the embrace of your family.

You had managed to sneak on to one of many ships heading for another world, sat in the peasant-class, blending in with the rest. When you arrived at the new world, your escapades started, and now you were happily on the list of the IPC’s most wanted criminals. Their incompetence in being seekers amused you greatly, for you always managed to slip right between their fingers as if you were air.

One day, you met a mysterious man on a planet you’d long forgotten the name of.

“You don’t look like yer from around ‘ere.” He says, a strong accent to his voice. His hair, a mix of black and white, caught your eyes, as well as the sharp teeth in his mouth. You wondered how much you could sell those for.

“Perhaps not.” You smile, pulling back your hood. “I am just a visitor.”

“‘s that so?” He holds out a hand for you to shake. “Then how do ya do, my lady?”

“Quite alright, thank you.” You shake his hand gently. “Could I have the honor of knowing your name, my good sir?”

“The name’s [???], nice to meet ya.” He tips his hat and sends you a wink.

“My name is (Y/n), good sir.” You put a hand on your heart and bow.

You get along well, for the time that you’re there. You’re more interested in what they have in store for you. Some diamond or gold, perhaps some rare ore? Or perhaps just a trinket you like, that you’d keep for yourself as a souvenir of this place. Something is bound to catch your eye, and maybe this man could lead you to where it is. After all, there’s no better guide than a local.

He shows you around sincerely, helping you ride his horse. The sunset is beautiful, and the sight of the people looking out for each other warms your heart. You have no intention of staying of course - like a hurricane, you may linger in one place for a little while, but you must always be moving. Getting caught by the IPC would be no fun, who knows what they’d do to you.

You’re almost sad to leave him behind. The last few days were spent with him touring you around the land he grew up in, introducing you to his adopted daughter, showing you secret places that you would’ve never found yourself. You like him, you really do; but you’re not a fool.

It’s late at night when you leave. You know he’s asleep by the soft snores you can hear from the room over, and his daughter is of course sound asleep at this time of the night. You wave them a silent goodbye, and as a souvenir for yourself, you take one of his bullets. Surely he wouldn’t notice such a tiny thing, not when he probably has hundreds of them.

You’re off to the next world by the time the sun rises once more.

~~~

It’s been many years since you met that cowboy, and it’s all water under the bridge. You’re not one to linger in the past, not when the present and the future stand in front of you, awaiting your next move.

The IPC are still hot on your tail, eager to put your misdeeds to rest, while you’re just as eager to keep playing with them. You only lament their incompetence as seekers. Hide-and-seek is no fun if the seeker doesn’t try.

You, however, have noticed someone else participating in this game between you and the IPC. They are no lackey of the IPC, because then they would obviously be using their signature gear and weapons and subordinates, but whoever they are, they are a lone wolf. They’re a far better seeker than those intergalactic disappointments, and you know you’ve almost been caught at least once. You can’t say you’re scared though, because you live for this thrill.

It’s in Penacony when you catch sight of your seeker. He dons a hat, heeled boots, a mechanical body and black and white hair. He is a familiar sight, but you couldn’t say who. There are countless people who exist in this universe, you’d never be able to remember all of them. As you plan your escape from Penacony, a cold hand catches your wrist.

“How do ya do, my lady?” You’ve heard those words before, once upon a time. A long, long time ago.

“Quite well, my good sir.” You reply the same, just as you always have. You know this man, yet you cannot remember his name. And his appearance… he has changed. He has changed greatly.

“Fancy seeing you ‘round these parts.” He smirks, and you see the jagged teeth that decorate his mouth.

“Would you do me the honor of your name?” You smile, subtly trying to twist your wrist out of his grip. His grip tightens.

“Poor ol’ me. There’s nothing more heartbreaking than when a man’s little lady doesn’t even remember him.” He chuckles, and forcefully pulls you close. “Darlin’, do ya swear ya don’t remember a man like me?”

“You’ll have to forgive me, for I am no follower of the Remembrance. Many memories of my encounters with others have been taken by the cruel hands of forgetfulness, and I am merely the victim who can do nothing but watch it happen.” You dip your head in mock regret.

“That bullet on yer belt says otherwise.” The mention of the bullet has you momentarily surprised. You never imagined he’d remember such an insignificant thing that you took on a whim, not when it looked like any other bullet in his arsenal.

“This was a gift from a friend.” You explain, your smile strained.

“Unless that friend is me, yer nothin’ but a cold-hearted liar, sweetheart.” His free hand reaches to the back of your neck, and with no warning, latches onto it like a parasite. “Could ya believe that? My darlin’ Red Riding Hood’s a liar!”

“Sir, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. Is it possible that you’ve mistaken me for someone else? It would be great if you could let my hand go, and we could both be on our merry ways.” You try to plead with him, but from the look in his eyes, he’s not buying even a second of it.

“Nah, I’d never forget yer red hood. After all, yer Little Red Riding Hood, aren't cha?” He grins wolfishly, leaning down to your face. He eyes your lips, and for the first time in years, you feel an inkling of fear.

“Red coats like these aren’t uncommon, it’s a popular fashion trend nowadays.” You lie through your teeth, your free hand clutching the fabric of the coat. You try to lean away from him, but his grip on your neck doesn’t allow more than what he decides.

“That so?” He finally, finally, pulls away from you, and you feel relief like you’ve never felt before.

“Of course! I have no reason to lie to you, not when you’re obviously the stronger one between the two of us!” It’s not a lie. He has a mechanical body for the love of Aeons, he could obliterate you in seconds if he so wanted. You’re only alive because he hasn’t decided that you’d be worth the bullet.

“That’s something you're honest about!” He barks out a laugh, and you wince at the sound. There was something… inhuman, almost robot, about it. He laughs for a few moments too long, and you want nothing more than to leave, to hide again. Anywhere else was better than being with this man.

“Sir, I have a ship to catch. If you would excuse me…”

“Nah, not on my watch.” He is unrelenting in his insistence. You don’t even get the chance to attempt to leave before he’s dragging you off into a more secluded area of the hotel, where he’s sure there’s no prying eyes nor ears that would lay witness to his actions.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal-”

“Good thing it ain’t then, eh?” He cuts you off in an instant. You furrow your eyebrows. You didn’t take someone like him to be well-versed in inter-astral law.

“How do you know it’s not-”

“‘Cause laws,” he starts, finally stopping when he deemed the area acceptable. He turned to face you, leaning down once more until you could feel every breath of his, and there was a glint of something in his remarkably human eyes. “Don’t apply to criminals like you, darlin’.”

“You’re falsely accusing me-”

“Nah, I know you like the back of my hand.” He grins once more, extending his hand as if this were your first meeting. “Nice ta meet’cha, Little Red Riding Hood. The name’s Boothill, yer number one fan, and yer beloved seeker.”

It was rare that you lost your composure, that you let yourself stand there dumbfounded and vulnerable. You’ve imagined meeting your mysterious seeker, the taunting words you’d exchanged. If they are to be as humorous as you are, then you’d have a fun banter; but if they’re as cold as the IPC, then it would just be you. Never in a million years did you imagine that it would turn out like this, him with the upper-hand, and you, the helpless prey.

“Nothin’ to say? C’mon now cutie, I didn’t waste my time chasin’ ya ‘round for ya to clam up on me.” He, or rather Boothill as you’ve come to know, finally frees your wrist from his grip only to move up to your chin, forcing you to stare at him. “That bullet on yer belt belongs to me. Ya know that don’t’cha, ya thief?”

It seems that all your wit has left your lips, and you’re now overtaken by silence. What could you say? He knows you. He remembers you. If you open your mouth, you’d only be digging your grave further.

“Don’t wanna speak? Fine. Then I guess that means yer mine now.” He shrugs and takes your wrist once more, the cool metal of his hand sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, he laughs again, and you think it’s a horrible, screeching, sound. “Ha! Guess the wolf really does win!”

“B..Boothill,” you start, slowly, and his laughter ceases in an instant. His eyes lock on yours, as if daring you to speak further. “Please think this over. I know the IPC has a bounty out for me, but it’s not that big, not as much as what I’ve sold things for. I-if money is what you seek, then I’d be happy to split with you.”

“Ha? The IPC?” His face visibly sours at the mention of the corporation, and you fear that you’ve pissed him off. “Nah, I don’t want nothin’ to do with those cuties. They could die for all I care. ‘sides, I don’t need no money. A Galaxy Ranger can live without that. What I’m after is you, sweetcheeks.”

His face leans impossibly close, and you instinctively try to move away. He only leans in closer, until your lips are touching, and his sharp teeth bite down on the bottom of your lip.

“I’ll make sure yer never gonna forget me, doll. I’ll carve every inch of myself into yer heart, and that bullet will serve as yer reminder of what ya got yerself into.” Boothill smirks, and you can’t help but shrink under his eyes. There’s a wolf staring at you, ready for its next meal.

He closes the distance without giving you a second to react, and latches onto your mouth with his own. You struggle desperately against him, but you’re no match for a hunter, so you opt to keep your mouth sealed shut. Boothill doesn’t like that.

He bites down on your bottom lip without warning, drawing blood. Your mouth opens to yelp, but he swallows the sound. Like a man starving, he doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, and it isn’t until you’re starting to wheeze that he allows you to be free. Licking the saliva around his lips, he pridefully stares down at you as if you were a trophy.

“I like it when ya say my name, doll.” He coos, squishing your cheeks together, leaning down once more as if to continue his assault. “Say it again.”

You remain silent as an act of defiance.

“Don’t wanna? We’ll see for how long.” He releases your cheeks. They ache. Dragging you once more, he doesn’t turn to look at you when he says his next words, but you know the look on his face perfectly well. “I bet you’ll be sayin’ it like a prayer after tonight.”

His laughter is a horrible sound.

#boothill #honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere boothill #yandere x reader #female reader #fem reader #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #yandere boothill x reader

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meadowscarlet · 1 year

Text

inflicted desire ━━━ kaz brekker.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader.

summary: you were simply a crow and nina's closest friend, but kaz doesn't understand why he feels the need to be near you or protect you when you can protect yourself; he is closed off and unreadable, and he couldn't articulate his feelings properly, until you were hurt on the job.

warnings: the normal six of crows shenanigans.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

Kaz Brekker did not make mistakes. He was a thief, not a fool, the Dregs' leader, and Ketterdam's most notorious man. He had a sharp intellect and was astute; no one ventured to cross him out of fear, or they were rational enough not to.

His plans were meticulous, and if something went wrong (which was unlikely), he had hundreds of backup plans ready to go. And everything went well, but there was a glimmer of realization that Kaz had made the biggest mistake of his life. It was bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling of uneasiness.

If he had merely noted when he met you—charming and intriguing—when he visited the House of the White Rose to inform Nina about a job; he should have simply ignored you when you passed him in the hall without a second glance, but Kaz had been effectively intrigued.

Nina told him that you were her closest friend and the one person in the White Rose who kept her sane. Nina was cautious, with a guarded gleam in her eyes and a reluctance that could get you killed in Ketterdam, when Kaz inquired whether you had any skills.

Nina had given Kaz a sharp gaze and said, “Recruiting her in the Dregs is dangerous.”

“Nina dear,” Kaz drawled. “It's dangerous everywhere in Ketterdam. And I think your friend would appreciate getting out of here every now and then.”

Nina told Kaz about your bewitching qualities with a little more trepidation. You were charismatic, a pretty face and a cunning smile that could tempt wealthy merchants to give you kruge and a wise convincer. Nina also mentioned that you had good combat skills. Kaz Brekker had smirked at the time, his thoughts racing. He was well aware that he needed you on his team.

That was his very first mistake. You were good at your work—you did a brilliant job and Kaz knew you were a terrific addition to the Dregs—but as the days passed, he began to have an underlying feeling inside him that he quickly dismissed whenever you were there. Kaz often wondered if he should have heeded Nina's advice about not recruiting you in the Dregs, but he'd been blinded by his curiosity, and he bitterly regretted it.

He recalled one mission in which they were meant to spy on a handful of Pekka Rollins' men. Kaz remembered how meticulously he had prepared for this; he had gone over blueprints over and again until his eyes were weary, but he would not rest—never. Kaz was scrupulous with his plotting especially since it involved Pekka Rollins.

When there's a lovely girl around and they're inebriated, men are simple to seduce. So, of course, your main task was to play the inquisitive girl, allowing men to reveal their drunken secrets while you sat, looking pretty. Despite the fact that you were skilled in this vicinity, Kaz didn't like the plan, but he needed Inej on the roofs and Nina by the door, so you were left as an option.

As he saw you woo one of Rollins guys, he felt a prickling sensation inside him. You were dressed in a velvety white dress that accentuated your contours; you stood out in the darkness of Ketterdam, and you shone brightly. Kaz may not believe in Saints, but he was convinced you were one by the radiance of your smile and dress.

He despised seeing you sitting on a drunk Dime Lion man's lap, and Kaz noticed you looked uneasy, so he fought the impulse to smash the man's head with his cane until his skull cracked satisfyingly. He reminded himself that this was a job, and he needed to do his part. Despite your unsettled expression, he could see your ears perk up, and that's when Kaz recognized the man had begun to speak.

Kaz watched you giggling and touching the man's forearm while drinking your drink; you were playing your part wonderfully as usual. And it all happened very quickly; when the drunken man leaned close to you, another man approached him to stop him, and Kaz realized the man knew who you were.

The man had said something to the inebriated man, and the latter had suddenly sobered up, and Kaz realized chaos had occurred. Because of the drink you drank, you appeared tipsy, but Kaz could see how your eyes flared in terror and your gaze immediately darted to him.

Kaz had set out on foot to get you, but Nina had beaten him to it. Nina had grasped your wrist and pulled you away in alarm before the man could grab you. Shots were being fired, and Kaz could see Jesper rousing his revolters to fire back at the men who were shooting at you and now at Jesper.

Kaz was so concentrated on the men and the bullets that he missed you limping in Nina's arms as he pulled his own gun. Nina wore a worried expression on her face and was essentially bearing half your weight. And Kaz could see it: there was blood on your abdomen that was obvious and evident through the white of your dress. As Kaz focused on you, gunshots faded into the background, and he was startled out of his reverie when Jesper told them to leave.

He didn't normally listen to Jesper because he was the one who gave the directions and commands, but now his feet followed Jesper's, his leg jerking in pain as he hobbled, yet his step was swift. He remembered the blood on your adobem, the way Nina's eyes widened, and he was filled with dread. It was terrifying. Since Jordie, he hasn't felt like this in years.

Kaz knew Inej was close behind him, quiet and concealed like the Wraith she is, as his Crows hurried to the Slat. As you limped beside Nina, Kaz could see you being held by her, and he turned to Jesper, a sensation inside him that he didn't want to convey.

“Run after Nina," Kaz rasped coldly. “Help her with Y/N.”

Jesper didn't need to say anything else as he ran to Nina, and when he caught up with both girls, he grabbed your waist and helped half of your weight as Nina and Jesper carried you to the Slat. Kaz despised hearing a hint of fragility in his voice, but Jesper didn't seem to mind.

It didn't matter to Kaz if Nina could hear his rapid heartbeat. Kaz saw that the others were watching him as his eyes swept you laying on your bed with Nina mending your wound. Even though your face was pale and your breathing was unsteady, you were alive, Kaz was not soothed. Despite her concerns, Nina had been firm, requesting medical equipment from Matthias, who had followed orders.

Kaz isn't concerned about the Rollins information right now; all he wants is for you to be alright. He remembered your eyes widening in panic and searching for his first. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, focusing on you instead. And there was so much blood, Kaz gripped his cane tightly in his fist.

“Heal her,” he murmured.

Nina gave him a cold stare. “I'm trying, Kaz, but there's just too much blood.”

“I don't care,” Kaz said icily, his gaze matching hers. “Zenik, heal her.”

Inej had left, but not before praying to her Saints for you to be well. Jesper walked away as well, noticing the gloom in Kaz's voice and Nina's gaze. Matthias was retrieving more medical supplies, creating a tense atmosphere with only a feverish Kaz, an anxious but indignant Nina, and an alive yet barely Y/ N.

“You should leave, l'll get to you once l'm done,” Nina remarked as she resumed working in your wounded abdomen.

Kaz stood firm in his position. “I'm not going anywhere.”

With a shake of her head, Nina replied, “Your heartbeat is distracting me.” Kaz noticed her hand quivering. “I can sense your nerves, Brekker, and it doesn't help that l'm worried about her as well.”

He was terrified; he had shown vulnerability, and Nina had noticed. She knew he cared about you, and he had never experienced anything like it with anybody else. When Inej was stabbed, Jesper was shot, or Matthias, Wylan, and Nina were hurt, Kaz's heart didn't rush as rapidly. It was always you who made his heart race with nerves and a need to protect you if you were harmed.

When Kaz glanced at your hand, palm up, he felt compelled to grasp it. Not Jesper, who had brought you to the Slat, or even Nina, who stroked your hair away from your face every now and then, but he should be the one holding you and aiding you. But Kaz knew that idea alone was impossible; he couldn't think about it without shivering with distaste, so he stayed, a safe distance away, with a tremendous desire to hold you.

Nina fixed her gaze on him. “I assume she'll be a little hazy when she wakes up, so don't ask her any questions about the information.”

“I don't give a damn about the information,” Kaz remarked indifferently.

Kaz despised the mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she shot him a shocked glance. “Kaz Brekker not caring about the information that's about Pekka Rollins? Somebody pinch me.”

He gave her a skeptical look as he rolled his eyes. “Keep her alive by doing your work, Nina dear.”

Nina shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes were gloomy. “She's not dead, Kaz,” she said with a shake of her head. “Since the blood loss, she'll be unconscious, but she'll be fine—she usually is.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. What Nina said was right; it was not uncommon for someone in the Crows to be hurt—it happens all the time, especially during heists and jobs—but the jobs were mostly successful, and Kaz had been blunt in assigning you the safest task (charming people) because a selfish part of him wanted you to be in the middle of the job so he could keep an eye on you.

But, despite his composed demeanor, he seemed to crumble everywhere around you. Perhaps you had charmed him, as you had charmed so many others, by bewitching him with your entire being, causing his black heart to seek you out. When you were around, there was always an inflicted desire within Kaz, which he had always disregarded until now.

Kaz wanted to kill the man who had touched you, as well as track down the person who had shot you. He remembered your bright eyes dampening in fear and a brief tremor of despair as you realized you'd been caught, then blood splattering across your white dress and Nina's worried expression as she carried your limping weight.

Nina snarled, “You're doing it again.”

With his dark eyes, Kaz looked at her. “What?”

“I know you love her and all, but I need to focus, and your heartbeat is incredibly distracting right now,” Nina rambled.

Kaz stilled as he heard the word he didn't want to associate himself with. “In Ketterdam, love is neglected; it is reserved for the weak.”

Nina surprised him by laughing. “What are you doing right now? Whenever Y/N is hurt, you appear weak—you're in your vulnerable form.”

Kaz wanted to kill Nina by saying things he knew were true, but he was ignorant and stubborn to accept it. Nina gave him a knowing look as she cleaned, healed, and wrapped a cloth around your wound before kissing you on the forehead and leaving Kaz alone with you.

Kaz strolled over to where you were laying after a few moments of contemplation. He examined your flawless face, which, despite seeming pale and near death, was nonetheless lovely. Kaz paused for a while before raising his gloved palm to your cheek and tucking the errant strand of hair away.

He sat down near your bed, putting his disgust aside. Despite the strong temptation, he did not grasp your inviting hand. Kaz had stayed by your bedside the entire night, never leaving your side. Nina had stopped by every now and then to change your bandage, but she had said nothing about Kaz's overstaying or even asked him to leave.

When Nina was treating your wound, she had said, “You should rest, Kaz.”

Kaz gave her a sidelong glance. “Don't tell me what to do.”

Nina may have been right, but she was also wrong. Kaz did not believe he was capable of love, yet he had a great desire to be with you. To be in your company, to receive your gorgeous smile, and to simply be in your presence. And this time he wasn't going to ignore it.

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phoward89 · 21 days

Text

Based on this ask

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

Masterlist

Part 1:

You've known Coriolanus Snow and his family ever since you were a little girl. When the war started, you were about 5, and Crassus, Coriolanus' father, helped you, your mother, and your brother get smuggled into the Capitol as a favor to your father, a Colonel who served under him in District 12 while he was a General; the Commander.

Sadly your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, didn't survive the war. Tragically, Coriolanus' mother died during the first bombing strike on Capitol City. She died in the birthing bed, weeks before she was due, because the bombing had triggered off her labor. Coriolanus' little sister died too. Was stillborn.

But since your families knew one another and lived in the same building they huddled together during the war. Your mother wasn't too thrilled about having to receive help from Grandma’am Snow and a seedy neighbor that owned a nightclub, but she dealt with it in order to survive and protect her children: you and your older brother.

General Crassus Snow barely made it out of the war alive. He was nearly killed in the woods outside of 12. But, alas, he survived and returned home to Capitol City, Panem a war hero. He also came back with a heavily lined pocket although District 13 was destroyed and that's where all of his assets, factories, and science labs were located.

Your mother told you and your brother that Crassus was a cold, cunning, calculating man and that she's positive that he somehow brokered a deal to get paid for the loss of his assets.

What nobody knows, except for the higher powers that be of course, is that Crassus still has his factories and labs in District 13. They're nuclear weapons factories and, since 13 went underground as an independent nation via a hush hush backroom midnight deal between the leader of 13 and Panem's President Ravenstill, a deal that went into effect before the Districts surrender and the signing of the Treaty of Treason. Crassus is a black market arms dealer. He sells his nucs to neighboring countries. Countries that include Canada (yes, they never changed their name after the wars and natural disasters that drastically changed the geography of the world) and a small coalition of old world Eastern European countries that survived the rising sea levels that had eradicated some island countries and shoreline countries of old world Europe.

Crassus Snow takes a lot of out of town business trips to broker illegal arms deals between the underground District 13 and the countries that he's constructed alliances with. General Crassus Snow had no loyalties to Panem any more; his only loyalties were to himself and his family. He also had a sliver of a sense of honor when it came to his old comrade’s family and felt the need to watch over your family: the Halvir family.

But after being shot by rebels, left for dead in the woods, and barely being able to survive long enough to trek back to the PK Base D-12’s hospital, General Crassus Snow truly lost faith in the country that he was supposed to serve proudly. But did he ever truly have faith in Panem as a country since he was in the woods, sneaking like a thief in the night, to get to District 13 to check his assets and his alliances there?

Snow lands on top; Crassus was playing both sides of the war to ensure that his family came out winners. And then when his contacts in District 13 told him of the deal between the President and the Commander of 13, well…General Snow's career as an arms dealer was born.

It paid well and kept the Snow family living high off the hog. Crassus also supported your family with his endless money, much to your mother's dismay.

Your mother couldn't stand Crassus, out on a polite face for Grandma'am Snow, felt sorry for Tigris, and cringed with how you and Coriolanus were the best of friends.

And you remained best friends with Coriolanus Snow as the two of you grew up side by side. You always viewed the friendship as platonic, but a teenaged Coriolanus viewed it as more. He developed a crush on you that quickly turned into a dark, possessive obsession.

But Coriolanus was certain that what he felt for you was love.

And when it came to his father, who he was the spitting image of with the same tall, sinewy build, platinum blonde curls, striking icy blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and prominent nose, well…Crassus Snow had an obsession with you as well. But his obsession was rooted in a darker place than his son's.

The esteemed war here General Crassus Snow has a sick obsession with you because you favor your mother. And, well, when Crassus was a young grunt in 12, serving in the Peacekeepers under his father Xanthos who was the Commander of 12 at that time, he fell for your mother, but she didn't reciprocate his feelings. Instead she fell in love with his friend, Javanis Halvir. Thus the reason you and your older brother were born to Colonel Halvir and Mrs. Halvir.

Feeling jilted and betrayed by the object of his affection and obsession not loving him back, Crassus became a cold, cruel, cold, calculating, and cunning man. He put on his charming smile and wooed a young, pretty, naive girl from Capitol City. Demeter: Coriolanus’ mother.

But he never got over your mother, despite her hating him as the years went on. So you looking just like her once you hit your teenage years has Crassus falling down the rabbit hole into dark obsessive head spaces.

So, unknown to you, your platonic relationships with the men in the Snow family are anything, but that in their eyes. And they don't even know that the other has an obsession with you.

You know what they say…like father, like son.

It's mid-May of your senior year at the Academy and you're so ready for the school year to end. You can't wait for graduation and for summer break. You also can't wait for the opportunity to spend your summer break hanging out with your best friend, Coryo.

Coriolanus Snow.

But you call him Coryo. Always have, always will.

But in the meantime you spend your weekends at the Snow penthouse; you also go home with him after school a couple of days during the week- much to your mother's dismay.

And this afternoon’s one of those days where you go home with Coryo after school.

“You're staying for dinner tonight, darling. The cook’s making your absolute favorite and I'd hate for you to miss out on it.” Coryo told you on the elevator ride up to the 12th floor of your Corso building.

The elevator had been broken for a few years, but after General Snow slapped some money at the apartment building association maintenance fixed the elevator and Grandma'am Snow was able to leave the penthouse and go out into the world with the help of a can instead of being kept locked up inside like a recluse.

“I hope you didn't ask the cook to make my favorite meal just to get me to stay for dinner.”

“Of course not. They plan the menu, not me.” Coryo tells you, a lopsided lipped smile on his face.

What neither of you knew was that Coryo's father, Crassus, and told (more so demanded) that the cook make your favorite meal. He knew that you'd be easier to sway to eat dinner with him and his family if the smell of your favorite dish was wafting in the air as you hung out with his son in his room.

And that was something Crassus was going to be putting a stop to. He can't have you spending so much time alone in Coriolanus' bedroom. What if the two of you start to become curious about- things…

Ugh, Crassus can't imagine you with his son. He thinks Coriolanus is a sassy, whinny, bratty, weakling of an heir. Too bad he couldn't toughen that boy up; too bad he's too much like his mother. Has too much good in him, can be easily pushed and pulled by a pretty face and the promise of love.

Crassus would prefer it if Coriolanus was more like him. More cold, more cunning, more calculated, and didn't wear his feelings on his damn sleeves.

Anyways…

The elevator stops and the doors ding open, revealing the hallway of the 12th floor. A floor that was solely inhabited by the mighty Snow family. They had the upper level penthouse that took the entire floor. It was quite impressive. You love it, but your mother hates it.

And talk about your mother…

“I know you want me to stay for dinner, Coryo, but I really shouldn't. My mother's been getting on me lately about how much time I spend up here with you.” You tell the boy with the light golden curls as the two of you exit the elevator.

“Your mother needs to take a chill pill. You're my girl, darling. It's completely normal to be spending all of your free time up here.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to the front door of his penthouse, palm of his hand resting lazily on the small of your back.

“I know, Coryo, but my mother hates that we're besties and she wants me to meet new people.”

“Meet new people?” Coryo scoffed, brows furrowed in disdain, as he opened the door to his place. “There's nobody new in Capitol City our age to meet, darling. Not unless you go to the mission in the slums by the rail station and start introducing yourself to those District immigrants that conned their way into our grand Capitol.” The cerulean eyes boy told you while ushering you into his penthouse and down the entrance hallway.

Coriolanus was personally offended by your mother. How dare she tell you to meet new people? You belong to him. You're his girl.

HIS GIRL!

HIS!

Coriolanus was good at schooling his features, considering he's been doing it his entire life to keep from letting his father know how bad his harsh and hateful words affected him, so you didn't catch onto how upset he was with your mother. No, you thought he was fine. As cool as a cucumber as he led you past the kitchen, where the cook was starting on dinner, and into the main room of the penthouse to acknowledge Grandma’am, who's always sitting in her favorite chair watching her soaps on CapitolTV during this time of the late afternoon.

“Oh, Coriolanus, you're home and I see you brought Y/N over to visit with you.” Grandma'am Snow, who was dressed to the nines in her jeweled turbin, silk tunic, extravagant jeweled brooch, and long strand of pearls. She was the epitome of Old Guard aristocratic lady of fineries and class.

“Yes, Grandma'am I'm home and my darling’s staying for dinner tonight.” Coriolanus smiles at his grandmother.

Coryo silently nudges you forward to give Grandma'am a hug while greeting her. It's something you've done you years and he doesn't want you to stop doing it either since his Grandma’am adores you.

If only Grandma'am could persuade his father that you're a good match for him. The old lady gets it, why can't his father get it? You and Coriolanus belong together; make quite the pair.

But if the platinum haired boy with a halo of curls on his head only knew that he wasn't the only one obsessed and lusting after you- well…

“Good afternoon, Grandma'am. It's so good to see you.” You smile sweetly, hugging the regal old woman that you've come to love and think of as your own grandmother over the years.

“It's also so good to see you too, my dear.” Grandma'am replies, patting your back as she reciprocates the hug. “Has our Coriolanus asked you to the prom yet?” She inquired, as a way to push you and her grandson together, your hug broke apart.

“Not officially, but we have an understanding that we'll be going together since we go to all of the galas, balls, and dances together.” You tell Grandma’am while returning to Coryo's side.

Coryo’s fiddling with the strap of his satchel, that's currently across his chest, as he awaits Grandma'am’s reply. Or, a lecture aimed at him to properly ask you. A lecture she's been giving him daily since the beginning of the month.

And sure as shit, Coriolanus gets his prom lecture.

Grandma'am looks at her grandson, who's his father's spitting image, and firmly tell him, “Coriolanus, properly ask her. You're a Snow and as a Snow doesn't assume things, but makes them happen.” Cutting her eyes at her only grandchild, she orders in a grandmotherly way, “Now, properly as her as your prom date before somebody else tries to snatch her up from you.”

You felt a bit awkward. Grandma'am’s lecture was something you felt she should've given Coryo in private, not while you're by his side. It wasn't meant for your ears, or at least you don't think it was.

Coriolanus’ lips draw taunt into a tight line as he tells his grandmother, “Yes, Grandma'am.” He half nods at her before turning to you. Giving you a smile that shows too many teeth, like a wolf baring its fangs before its prey, he takes your hands in his and asks, “Y/N, my darling rose, will you do me the honor of going to prom with me?”

It felt more like a marriage proposal than a promposal. Aren't promposals supposed to be fun and exciting with songs, dances, and glittery handmade poster boards? Not so serious. Right?

Right?

You're already going to prom with Coryo, but since you've been out on the spot with a promposal you have to formally accept. All thanks to Grandma'am.

“Of course I'll go to prom with you, Coryo.” You answered your best friend, causing his icy eyes to sparkle with joy.

It all felt so surreal. A bit heavy too. Honestly, it felt like you were agreeing to give your best friend your hand in marriage right in front of his regal grandmother then agreeing to go to prom.

Unknown to you, you accepting Coryo's proposal was, in fact, you agreeing to a future marriage to him in the delusional minds of both Coriolanus and Grandma’am.

Mhm…

You just signed your freedom away by saying yes to prom and you don't even know it, all because you view your relationship as platonic. Too bad the platinum blonde boy with baby blue eyes and his sophisticated grandma view the relationship as something more.

Coryo's father, Crassus, also views your relationship with his son as platonic. But that's for an entirely different reason; one that would make you gasp from shock if you knew.

After making Grandma’am Snow the happiest lady alive in Capitol City by accepting Coryo's proposal, you went to his bedroom to do homework with him. And when your class assignments were done, you two just laid on his bed while listening to music.

It was a new album that Coryo had to get the neighbor, Pluribus Bell, to smuggle to him because Crassus refused to give his son the money for the album. In fact the former General turned Minister of National Security, and black market arms dealer, hates the music you and his son listens to. Crassus is more of a classical music and soft jazz type, so he hates the poetic lyrics and the vibe of the beats of the alternative indie and pop you and Coryo enjoy so much.

The album was on its second playback while you cuddled into Coryo's side. His large, but lanky frame always made you feel so safe. So protected. And, your best friend's lanky, he does have solid muscles under his skin.

Having you tucked into his side while lying on his bed listening to the new album that an artist the both of you loves just dropped is like being in heaven for Coriolanus. Growing up the platinum blonde boy with a head full of soft curls and striking baby blue eyes always had you by his side. You're his one constant. No matter what, you're always there for him.

It's what makes Coryo crave you like Dean Casca Highbottom craves his morphling fix every 15 minutes. You always being there for him, being by his side for better or worse during your childhood friendship, is what caused him to grow obsessively in love with you.

But the problem is, in his delusional mind, Coriolanus thinks that you're in love with him too. All because of how you're always letting him cuddle you, hug you, and touch you. Letting him call you darling while you often call him ‘my Coryo' while talking about him to others also has him thinking that your feelings for him mirrors the ones he has for you.

You and Coryo are talking about small things, silly things really, whenever the bedroom door opens with a loud band followed by the deep bellowing of Crassus Snow. “Why're you two alone in here listening to this trash?”

“She's not a trashy singer, father. She's one of the best.” Coriolanus retorted, causing his imposing and stern father to fill his icy eyes at him. “Y/N and I were doing homework and decided to listen to some music afterwards.” Your best friend added in, to answer his father's stupid question about why you're in his room.

“General Snow, if me being alone in Coryo's room with him gets him in trouble with you then I'm sorry; I'll just go.” You apologized to the Snow patriarch while making to pull away from Coryo and sit up.

But your best friend wouldn't let you leave his side. No. Actually, his hold around you tightened.

And that made Crassus pissed. His sniveling brat of a son didn't deserve you. You deserved a real man to care for you; to guide you on your journey of womanhood.

Crassus felt that he's the Snow for you. The only man that can mold you into the perfect Capitolite lady you're meant to be. And when he successfully gets rid of old President Ravenstill and wins the next presidential election, well, he plans on making you his wife and his First Lady.

Whether you like it or not.

With a devious smirk painting his lips, the middle-aged man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and cold, hard, bitter icy eyes tells you, “Please, call me Crassus. After all, petal, with as much time as you spend here you're practically a part of the family.”

General Snow's remark went right over your head. You just nodded and simply said, “Okay.”

You honestly didn't think anything of it. If General Snow wanted you to call him Crassus because of all the time you spent around his son, Coriolanus, then so be it.

But Coryo knew that his father had just become, as fucked up as it sounds, his romantic rival for you. As soon as he heard him call you petal he knew, oh he just knew, that his father's lusting after you.

Coriolanus is his father's son after all. Despite being told time and time again by Crassus that he's too much like his mother, too soft and eager for affection- for love. But what Crassus didn't grasp was that Coriolanus didn't just have his father's looks, but his dark tendencies for obsession and over ‘loving’ his intended lover.

And the son just knew that his father was head over heels obsessed with you because, in fact, he was too. Coriolanus saw the way his father looked at you, as if you're a piece of meat ready to be carved and served, and it disgusts him. You belong to the younger Snow, not the older one.

Giving Crassus a cutting look with his icy eyes, Coriolanus announced in a smug baritone, “Father, my darling rose is going to prom with me as my date.” And then he twisted the knife in his father's black, soulless heart by adding in the three simple but damning words of, “As my girl.”

Crassus’ face turned to stone. Of course, you'd agree to go to prom with Coriolanus. The former general's seething with jealousy. He wants you, why does his son get to take you to prom? Ugh, why can't you just go to prom with a group of girls? Go stag, like single girls do. But no…

NO!

You just have to go to prom with Coriolanus. And as his girl too!

Crassus' blood is boiling in his veins. Hearing Coriolanus reveal that he’s made you his girl and is taking you to prom makes him want to tear his son apart limb by limb.

Well, he needs to nip that in the bud.

Perhaps he'll talk to his old, estranged friend Dean Casca Highbottom about being a chaperone at the prom. That way he can keep an eye on you, socialize with you, and keep you from spending the night dancing with his son.

Dancing at prom can lead to other things in hotel rooms after prom. Things that Crassus certainly doesn't want you doing with Coriolanus.

Although Crassus is having an internal meltdown, his appearance stays stern and calm. “I'll make sure your mother has enough money to take you dress shopping.” The middle-aged platinum blonde man assured you.

Cocking his head to the side, Crassus flashes you a savvy smile before looking at his son and giving him a look that rivaled that of Medusa herself. “This door stays open while you two are in here. Only one of you can be on the bed and the other must be at the desk.” Crassus instructed in a stern, authoritarian baritone. “And turn off this music. It's giving me a headache.” He adds in an ordering snap before pivoting on his heel and matching off.

Shaking his head, Coriolanus darkly chuckled, “My father's so pathetic. Having a crush on you.”

“He doesn't have a crush on me, Coryo.” You’re quick to tell your beat friend, writing off his remark as you break your contact with him by sitting up. “He's your father and he's old enough to be mine.” You remind Coryo while making to get off the bed.

Coryo stops you by reaching out and wrapping his hand around your arm. “Just stay on the bed with me. Father’ll never know.” He tells you as you look at him, worrying your lip. But after a few moments, you slowly nod your head and take up your spot nestled into his side once again. “And trust me, from the way he was looking at you, my father likes you.”

“I don't think he does, but if you say so…” You sigh, letting your sentence hang in the air.

But Coryo's right, his father does like you. He likes you a little too much. Just like how his son, your best friend, likes you a little too much.

The million dollar ticket is who’ll snag you up and make you theirs? That's a question only the ancient gods of old know and they're not sharing the answer until the time's right. But until then, father and son will be competing for your heart. A heart that you can only give to one Snow.

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