#ladies this is not straight behavior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daistea · 6 months ago

Note

Since you take requests, would I be able to ask for something with Mithrun and Kabru with like a reader that's kind of dense with social cues/hints (especially if they're romantic)?

(I had people confess their love to me, and I still didn't get it till they put it in very clear terms)

(it's probably the 'tism, but I digress. )

I think it's potentially an absolutely hellerious dynamic since Kabru always plays 5D chess with every social interaction. As for Mithrun, I think it's funny to think how the other canaries would just be repeatedly hitting their head on the wall because their captain won't say it straight and they just don't g e t i t.

Ps: I absolutely love how in-depth all of your understanding of characters and their personalities are, and I just hxfhxdvgudts.

This blog just brings me so much joy

Yaaa!!

“Iᴛ’s ᴀ Dᴀᴛᴇ” Kᴀʙʀᴜ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Mɪᴛʜʀᴜɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

gn reader

5000 words ;P

Warning: reader is very oblivious. Like incomprehensibly oblivious (for the lolz)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

♡ Kabru ♡

- Kabru has had little flings here and there throughout his life. He treated every partner with respect, of course, but Kabru wasn’t particularly looking for love. He doesn’t dislike the idea of love, it just hasn’t happened yet.

- So, when Kabru starts to genuinely fall in love with someone, it’s a new feeling. He’s observant enough to recognize what it is.

- Unfortunately, the person he’s falling in love with is you.

“He’s been unusually quiet lately,” Holm remarked. Who he was remarking that to remained to be seen. Mickbell didn’t care much. Kuro had other things to worry about. And Rin had already made the same observation three times earlier that day.

The first floor of the dungeon was always crowded, and Kabru’s ears were usually open for anything that could be of use. The leather armor merchant to his left had recently raised his prices. The cobbler to the right was in an argument with an older lady over the shape of a patch he’d made on her favorite boots. And Holm was concerned about Kabru’s recent lack of observations; as concerned as Holm could be.

“Is that really such a shock?” Kabru sent Holm a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly a chatterbox.”

But he was aware of himself enough to know that his behavior lately had been odd. He was usually so good at hiding it, too, but the comfort of his friends seemed to lower his walls. Without realizing it, Kabru had spent their latest dungeon expedition sighing to himself, staring at walls, and missing the details of important things. On the third floor, they’d encountered thieves. His party always relied on him to clock the intentions of approaching adventurers— thieves tended to be overly familiar, friendly, and a bit too eager— but Kabru’s mind was elsewhere. The thieves attacked, and it had genuinely taken him by surprise. The fight wasn’t hard, but Kabru’s lack of preparation set off alarms in Rin and Holm’s heads.

“You’re not,” Rin agreed. Her brow furrowed and she got that cute little line on her forehead again. “However, you’ve really been out of it.”

“Have you been thinking about that person again?” Holm asked.

That person. That person? Kabru knew a lot of persons. The whole first level was filled to the brim with persons, half of them being his acquaintances. Kabru had zero desire to admit that he knew precisely who Holm was referring to, though, and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead as he weaved through the crowd.

When he didn’t respond, Mickbell laughed, “Yeah, he’s thinking of them alright.”

“Heat?” Kuro asked.

Mickbell scoffed from his place on Kuro’s shoulders, “Tall-men don’t go into heat! At least I don’t think so. But they catch feelings, like a cold. Kabru’s caught a cold.”

“Not sneezing,” Kuro mumbled.

“A feelings cold, I mean! The worst kind.”

That was one way to put it. Kabru couldn’t help but sigh as he led the party towards a quieter spot in the corner. Once they were out of the sea of people, he leaned against the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have feelings, I’m simply curious,” he said.

Curious. Right. Mickbell sent him a scrunched up, narrow-eyed look that was reminiscent of constipation. Yet, Rin interjected before the half-foot could say something heinous. “What’re you curious about, particularly?” She asked.

“Good question,” Kabru folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head in thought.

What was he curious about? You held so many secrets. You had this look in your eyes that drew him, a look that reminded him of a room in his mother’s house. She always told him to not go inside. Her rules only made him want to turn the knob even more. And when he finally did disobey her and go inside, all he saw were boxes full of ceramic unicorn miniatures. Still, the rush of satisfaction he’d felt at finally knowing what was in there couldn’t be matched. That’s what he wanted to do to you, open your door and take a peek.

Or, perhaps a ‘peek’ was an understatement. He wanted to meticulously inspect every inch of your mind with a microscope, to know the atoms unseen by the human eye, to be intimately acquainted with every molecule you possessed.

“He’s zoned out again,” Holm muttered, ripping Kabru out of his thoughts.

He looked up, eyes widening at the observation. Holm was right, he was zoned out again, staring at the dirt on the floor and contemplating you.

He forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me, really. I’m just preoccupied. It’s that person, I simply want to know their intentions.”

“Intentions for what?” Rin asked.

For everything. There was no simple answer.

“Oh hey,” Mickbell glanced over his shoulder. His voice was flat as he scanned the room, “There they are.”

Kabru followed Mickbell’s gaze, a straight line that led directly to you— all lines seemed to lead directly to you lately. His heart clenched in a way that was both unpleasant and addictive. Without realizing it, he pushed away from the wall and began striding toward where you stood.

“Wait,” Rin grabbed his arm as he passed. Kabru blinked, looking down at her and waiting for her to speak. She met his eyes and frowned, “I think you’re going to be disappointed. They’re not as mysterious as you think they are.”

Nonsense. You were incredibly mysterious. Kabru could tell you had secrets, layers. He dreamed of pulling them back one by one.

“They couldn’t disappoint me,” he sent Rin a smile that he hoped was reassuring— he knew it was, he’d practiced it in the mirror and on other people all the time.

“I think they will,” she argued.

“They won’t,” his smile faltered just the slightest. Rin didn’t usually get involved in Kabru’s… hobby. Did she know something he didn’t? He decided to not ask outright, accepting the challenge of figuring out the meaning behind her concern on his own.

Rin let go of his arm and Kabru was free to go. His mind switched elsewhere, onto you, and before he knew it he was already slipping through the crowd of bodies to reach you.

You were in front of the vegetable seller’s stand, inspecting a lumpy potato. Kabru knew the vegetable seller was cheating on his wife. Usually, he’d try to get more out of the man, digging deeper simply for the sake of knowing. Yet, you stood there, beautiful and mind-consuming. What did Rin mean by ‘I think you’re going to be disappointed’? Kabru was rarely disappointed with secrets.

“Hey,” he raised a hand as he neared. You looked up from the potato and returned his smile. There was that look in your eyes again, that closed door he desperately needed the key to.

He loved crowds. He loved the hundreds of voices. He loved listening to each one and assigning them meaning, picking apart their words, filing them away into neat little categories. Yet, the crowd might as well have disappeared. All he saw was you. All he wanted was you and your words and your thoughts and your fears and your goals and your likes and your dislikes and your intentions and your—

“Oh hey,” your voice cut through the wants like the slash of a sword, “Kapru.”

Kapru.

His brows furrowed and he plastered on a polite smile— also practiced in the mirror. “It’s Kabru.”

“Right, sorry,” you shrugged.

Were you playing with him? Were you sending your pawn out, a piece that you expected him to take for the sake of a larger, more powerful move? Was it bait?

“How are you?” He forced himself to ask, though he could hear the weakness in his voice. He desperately hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You only tilted your head in thought, “I’m fine. Just buying potatoes.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Kabru said. It was a lie, you saw him last week. “My party and I are about to go back to the surface to restock. We could grab a drink if you wanted.”

“Why?” You asked.

Why? Why? Kabru couldn’t say why. He wouldn’t say why. ‘I want to take detailed notes on every word you say, every gesture, every breath’ wouldn’t be helpful to his cause in the least.

“Because we’re friends,” he slowly explained. Again, there was that hint of weakness lacing every syllable. He wanted to tear his voice box apart and reconstruct it in a way that wouldn’t falter every time he saw you.

But you didn’t seem to notice. “Alright,” you sent him a smile that made his heart clench.

Alright. Kabru’s smile relaxed, “Alright,” he echoed. “It’s a date.”

‘It’s a date’ was a common saying, of course. But it still held implications, it still held desires, it still signified something more— At least to him it did.

You remained unphased by it, though. Usually, when Kabru said that, there would be a laugh or blush or the widening of eyes. You gave him nothing of the sort. No flirtatious looks, no intention-laced smile, no flicker of recognition.

“See you then,” was all you said.

Rin was wrong. You couldn’t disappoint him. Opening your doors and peeking inside your mind would be so satisfying.

- You go on several dates with Kabru without realizing they’re dates.

- After one date when you make friends with the next table over and invite them to join your meal, introducing Kabru as ‘my friend’ and not ‘the man who is courting me’ or ‘my boyfriend’, he begins to wonder…

- Do you not realize that these are dates?

Kabru knew he had the tendency to stare, but he usually kept that urge locked away for the sake of masking. Always masking. Always aware of his surroundings and the people and the words and the looks.

He kept his staring urge hidden at first. Yet as time passed, as you went on more dates, he couldn’t help himself. He had to stare. He had to drink in every detail of your face, coveting it all as a desert wanderer would covet water.

And you didn’t seem to mind. You would give him this look sometimes, a look he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture between affection and confusion and bashfulness. It was his favorite expression of yours and never failed to put butterflies in his stomach.

Kabru knew he was falling in love. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he’d never been truly in love before. At night when he forced himself into bed, he stared at the ceiling and mused on the future you had together. Neither of you had said anything to make the relationship official, but was that even needed? It was obvious that you were together— to him, at least.

Kabru held your hand as he led you through the crowded streets. Once you caught up to his side, he placed his palm on the small of your back. He wasn’t much for PDA, but it was a necessity when traversing the island together. He didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.

Once you were in a more quiet spot, he sent you a smile, “I have to ask, I’m too curious; What’s your favorite date that we’ve had together?”

You thought for a moment, “Hm… I would have to say last week. It was a Thursday. I like Thursdays anyway. I think it was the 7th? Yeah. June 7th, Thursday. That’s a good date, it’s a bit cool outside and all the flowers are blooming. But if I had to say which one was my favorite, I think it would be April 18th. I’m not sure that we spent that date together, though.”

…Okay.

Like the sunset rising over the mountains, it began to dawn on him.

Were you stupid?

No, you weren’t stupid. He had seen you in the dungeon before, how you fought and strategized and reacted. You couldn’t be stupid.

Then what? Were you playing hard to get? Were you teasing him? Was this a move on the board, your Knight piece pressing forward to continue the assault? Kabru needed to know.

He kept his hand on your back but his gaze straight ahead. “That’s nice,” he said. It wasn’t nice, actually. “What about when we hold hands? Do you enjoy that?”

You shrugged, “It helps us keep track of each other as we go through a crowd.”

“But I hold your hand even when we’re not around other people.”

The face you made betrayed your true thoughts. “Yeah, it seems like your hands are cold a lot. You really should start keeping gloves with you.”

“...Do you think I’m holding your hand because my fingers are cold?”

Another flash of confusion, another furrow of your brows. “Why else would you hold my hand?”

The sun rose completely over the mountains and the daytime, clear and bright, engulfed his world.

You had no clue.

- This stresses Kabru out immensely.

- He starts taking notes. He has a special little book just for you. A lot of the pages are filled with scribbles and question marks.

- He makes a plan on what to do. He’s going to up the ante, he’s going to make his feelings so clear that you can’t ignore them or be oblivious even if you tried.

- He starts getting more touchy. He kisses your forehead often. He kisses your knuckles. He’s around you all the time, every chance he gets. He tells you you’re beautiful. He says that he wants you to meet his mother. He talks about your future together.

- You say, “Oh, your mom? Cool. You think we’ll get along? I’m always up for making new friends.”

- “You want a future with me? Well, I’m free next Wednesday.”

“I like you,” Kabru was breathless and wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from how often he’d run his fingers through it. He was disheveled and hadn’t slept the entire night.

You glanced up from the book you were reading, “Oh? Cool, thanks.”

He sent you a look. “No, I mean I love you.”

“Yeah,” you flipped a page in the book, “love you too.”

“You do?” Hope bloomed and unfurled like a spring flower. Kabru felt his cheeks grow warm, a fire igniting within him.

“Yeah,” you said lightly, “I love all my friends, of course.”

That spring flower suddenly wilted. The fire was doused by a cold bucket of water in the form of your words. Kabru wanted to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“You don’t get it,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers tensing as he leaned forward, desperate. “I’m in love with you. This is really hard for me to say, but I think you need to hear it like this. I love you. I love you. I love you…” Somehow, his cheeks went even hotter. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his embarrassment, “I-I… Sorry. I just need you like I need oxygen. I…”

You snorted, “You don’t need me to breathe, I’m a person not an organ. You’re breathing right now just fine.”

He was not breathing just fine, but that was beside the point.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kabru said. He could hear how strained his voice sounded.

You watched as he walked away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. Then he screamed. It sounded like he also kicked something, a crate or box maybe.

How odd.

- When it finally gets through your head, he’s actually a bit satisfied by your embarrassment at it all. Yes, please do acknowledge your obliviousness. Please do apologize for treating his love confession so casually. When you do so, he feels as if he could melt from the relief.

- He still wants to bang his head on the wall, though.

- And he’s spent a lot of nights screaming into his pillow.

- Kabru continues to play 5d chess with you, just simply out of habit, but you’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos the entire time. He still finds himself trying to pick apart your actions and responses, but he’s learned how to take things at face value when it comes to you. It’s a difficult adjustment, but one he’s willing to make.

- He starts to learn, take more notes, observe your behavior. For dates, he lays it out carefully. You two are going to do this specific thing. Why? Because he would like to see you happy, and hold your hand, and kiss you. Why? Because he loves you. Now you get it.

- You’re fascinating actually. Genuinely, he starts to adore how your brain works. He wants to pick it apart and hold the pieces up to a magnifying glass.

♡ Mithrun ♡

- He does not care.

- Be as oblivious as you want, that’s not going to stop Mithrun.

- The Canaries, however, are going insane.

“How’s it going with them?” Pattadol asked. Her hands were folded in front of her in that polite way, the way that told Mithrun that his second in command had something on her mind. Pattadol thought she was subtle. She was not.

And he knew precisely who she was referring to. Might as well give her an answer that’ll satisfy her curiosity, lest she keep asking questions.

“Fine,” he answered, “just fine.”

Yet, Pattadol’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Just fine?” She asked. Her voice went up a pitch. “It’s just fine? Really?”

“Really.”

She unlaced her fingers and spread out her hands as if gesturing to something, but all that surrounded them was Mithrun’s under-decorated living quarters. There was really nothing to gesture at besides the wooden cabinets and the bed. Mithrun waited, aware that she was picking through her piles of thoughts— probably thoughts mixed with screams of frustration— to find the right words.

Finally, Pattadol forced a shaken smile, “It’s clear to anyone that knows you that you’re in love with them, Captain.”

That was what she decided to say? It was a bit blunt for Pattadol’s usual style. Mithrun only shrugged, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty obvious.”

“So why haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to be happy for once!” Pattadol snapped, but she then took a deep breath, “Sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to sound that way. This is hard for me, talking so openly about these things… But it’s so frustrating to watch.”

Mithrun could understand that. While he personally wasn’t frustrated by the circumstances, he knew that the Canaries couldn’t stand watching his interactions with you. It wasn’t a big deal in the long run, in his opinion. They’d get over it.

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Do you have any ideas on how we can do that?”

“Do what?”

Pattadol’s eye twitched ever so slightly. Her fingers tensed like claws, and Mithrun felt the corner of his lips turn up in a barely-there smirk. But genuinely, he wasn’t sure what she referred to. Did she mean the part about him being happy, or the part about you being oblivious? She should’ve been more clear.

“About…” she hesitated. Obviously she wasn’t sure what she meant either. She then nodded as if deciding, “About everything. About the obliviousness, your happiness, etcetera.”

He didn’t know what the etcetera referred to, but didn’t care to ask. “You don’t have to do anything,” Mithrun assured her as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. The wood creaked slightly from the movement. Everything on this boat creaked, as was the nature of boats, he guessed.

“I would like to do something,” Pattadol nodded, determined. “We all would.”

A shrug, “Alright. Then do something.”

- Pattadol, over-achiever and top student and certified Girl Who Cares Too Much, takes that as a challenge.

- Cithis only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- Fleki also only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- And Lycion also also joins because he thinks it’ll be funny (though he does care on some level. Not really about you, but about Mithrun. And it’s painful to watch.)

- Otta is forced to join.

- The attempts are weak at first, like dipping a toe into the water to see how cold it is. Mithrun only has so much patience for interference with his life, so they have to be smart and tread carefully.

- Pattadol gives Mithrun a hint. “There’s some pretty flowers growing beside the road over there. You should give one to them!”

- “What would they need a flower for?”

- Mithrun asks that on purpose. He knows precisely what he’s doing. Yes, people generally like receiving flowers, he knows that. But he also believes that flowers are useless gifts.

- “Then what present do you suggest?” Pattadol asks.

- Mithrun has an idea. He gets you soap. Everybody uses soap (hopefully) It’s a useful gift, and if he gives you the same kind he uses then he’ll get some weird sick flicker of pleasure from having his scent on you. (He wisely chooses to not say that part aloud.)

You held the little bar of soap in your hands as if it were an injured baby bird you found on the ground. Yet your feelings towards it were far from protective or empathetic. This soap said something. It had a mouth and it used it to scream.

You met Mithrun’s flat gaze, “Soap…”

He nodded, “Yeah. Soap. It’s a gift for you.”

For you?

Mithrun continued, “It’s the same kind I use. Smells the same.”

It felt as if you’d swallowed a handful of pebbles and they all had gotten stuck in your throat. “Do you… think I’m stinky?”

You cursed yourself for even asking that. What a useless question. Obviously, he thought you stank! He gave you soap! He was trying to tell you something, being subtle and polite for once! Usually Mithrun would just say it bluntly, but he’d been working on his desires lately. Perhaps he’d also decided to embrace societal expectations? You weren’t sure. But soap. Soap!

You didn’t notice how Mithrun tensed. You didn’t see him quickly blink several times and tilt his head. You didn’t see the slight widening of his good eye. “No, I—“

“I’ll go use this right now,” you interrupted, “I’ll go wash away my stench so you can finally stand to be near me.”

Despite the horror, you were a bit proud of yourself. You’d taken a hint, maybe you were getting less oblivious.

- In your defense, a bar of soap is a weird gift.

- Alright. Mithrun admits it, he needs help. He’s not so prideful anymore that he won’t admit that he doesn’t know what to do.

- Pattadol is really triumphant about that but does her best not to show it.

- Plan B: make it so obvious that you have no choice but to realize his feelings.

“This has to be the most physically uncomfortable I’ve felt in a very long time,” Mithrun said as he tugged at the ends of the fancy, over-decorated blouse the Canaries had put him in. “I honestly prefer Cithis’s frilly dresses.”

Which was saying something. Mithrun had a preference? That was a good sign.

“It makes you look handsome,” Pattadol said.

“The only thing it makes me is itchy,” he corrected.

The Canaries had somehow found a blouse— not a shirt or tunic, a blouse— that made Mithrun feel something other than indifference. He usually didn’t care about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable, but the clothes they’d stuffed him into were offensive to human-kind, like vegan bacon.

It had a big frill on the front and puffy sleeves. It was somehow both too flowy and too tight at the same time. The trousers weren’t much better, digging into his legs. And the shoes…

Mithrun didn’t want to talk about the shoes.

It was clear to him that Fleki and Cithis had only contributed to the outfit because they thought it would be amusing. Good for them, he supposed. Pattadol seemed to genuinely like it, Otta looked horrified, and Lycion was in some in between state where he wanted to show pity but couldn’t quite stifle his giggles.

“Remind me again what the point of this is?” Mithrun asked with a sigh.

“We got them to agree to a date!” Pattadol said, grinning, “I said outright ‘it’s a date’ so there would be no confusion. I made it clear that the date was with you. Now, if you show up looking like a million gold with a bouquet of flowers, they’ll get the hint.”

Mithrun did not want to do that.

Mithrun rarely wanted to do anything, but this just felt wrong. In his opinion, the relationship between you and him would develop naturally in a way that fit both of your personalities. He didn’t mind waiting for you to realize his intentions, he had time. As long as you didn’t fall in love with someone else, and didn’t stop him from staring at you or touching you, then he wasn’t in a rush.

But since the Canaries insisted, seeming to think that this was the right course of action, he would go along with it. Maybe it would be an utter disaster and Pattadol would realize that she knew very little about relationships— especially a relationship involving Mithrun. He was aware enough of himself to know that it wouldn’t be conventional.

With his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and the ridiculous outfit on, Mithrun entered the restaurant Pattadol had chosen. He found you immediately. You sat in a chair with your elbow on the table and your ankles crossed, waiting.

Mithrun held a bouquet of pink roses as he approached. You lit up when you saw him, but your brows then furrowed.

“Where’s Pattadol?” You asked.

His stride faltered, “She isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, “well since she set this up I assumed she’d be here.”

Why would she be here? It was a date Pattadol had set up for you and Mithrun specifically.

You probably didn’t know it was a date, he realized. Pattadol thought she’d been clear by saying ‘it’s a date’ but failed to realize that that was just a common phrase among people and meant nothing to no one.

Calm, he slid into the seat across from you and watched as you raised a brow, “What’re you wearing?” You asked.

“My team picked it out for me.”

“You look like you’re part of an opera or a ballet, like you’re about to stand beneath a balcony and start spouting poetry to your lover.”

That was a good description, actually. Those were the words Mithrun had been looking for earlier when he saw himself in the mirror.

He nodded, “Yep.” Then, wordlessly, he held out the bouquet to you.

Your eyes widened, “For me?”

“I’m handing them to you, aren’t I?”

Gingerly, you took the flowers and held the stem of the wrapped bouquet with both hands as you inspected each petal.

A flicker of surprising satisfaction ran through his chest. You liked the flowers. It made sense, most people liked flowers, even if he didn’t see why.

You dipped your head down toward them presumably to smell them, but your lips then parted and you dug your teeth into the nearest rose.

Mithrun froze.

You chewed on the rose, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You gave the flower a good shot, a proper taste, but it didn’t take long until you grabbed a napkin and spit up the pink slobbery mess into it.

“Sorry,” you sent him an apologetic smile and tried to hand the bouquet back to him, ��they don’t taste that good, and I don’t think I could season or cook them in a way that would help.”

Mithrun knew he was staring. He knew he was making a face, slightly tilting his head down, intensity in his eye. The kind of face someone made when they were internally screaming.

He was not internally screaming, but he was thinking— about you, how your brain worked. And how it was so damn charming for some reason and all he wanted to do was kiss you until he was all you could think about.

He wanted something. The feeling was sweet, a shot of adrenaline, one of Fleki’s drugs. Addictive. Like the slow drip of honey. He could survive off that want for ages.

Wordlessly, Mithrun threw the bouquet over his shoulder to get rid of it. Judging by the gasp that followed, it probably hit someone in the head.

Loving you was as natural to him as breathing.

- Mithrun decides to not let the Canaries interfere any longer. He was wrong earlier in thinking he needed their help. He doesn’t.

- Also, watching them go insane over your obliviousness and his lack of communication provides a good bit of entertainment.

- When he finally decides to give into that all-consuming, new, exciting desire and kiss you, your response is, “But I wasn’t casting a spell, no reason to try and stop me.”

- God, he adores you.

- He takes kisses whenever he wants them, with no care about what you think his intention is.

- After a certain kiss that involves tongue and teeth and fingers digging into your waist, you start to openly wonder… Are you in a relationship with Mithrun?

“Yes,” Mithrun didn’t even glance up at you, remaining unphased by your rather serious question, “We’re in a relationship.”

He continued to jot down notes about a monster he saw, as if he’d just casually answered a question about the weather. ‘Is it going to rain today?’ ‘Yeah looks like it.’

You gulped, “How long?”

“A year now,” he kept writing. Truthfully, he’d been expecting this. A flash of disappointment crossed his mind; there goes one of his hobbies, watching the Canaries have a crisis over his love life.

You buried your face in your hands. Mithrun stopped writing and patted your head as if comforting a dog.

- The Canaries are pleased that this is over. But actually, they’re going to have to watch you not realize it when you’re engaged to the Captain.

- At your wedding you’re in regular clothes. Someone asks why and you say “Mithrun told me we’re going to a wedding. He didn’t say it was ours.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#dungeon meshi #asks #mithrun #delicious in dungeon #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru x reader #kabru #kabru of utaya #x reader #reader insert #my writing #gn reader #oblivious reader

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hyunniesgirl · 10 months ago

Text

My cat likes you

Pairing: Lee Know x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: your cat is behaving strangely lately and a walk outside your apartment shows you exactly why.

Warnings: none

A/N: I saw a video on Instagram with a cat rubbing on the floor when they saw a cute guy and I was like "why is this so Lee Know coded?" And had to make something like that with him heheheh

It's been a few days since your cat started behaving strangely, she'll wake you up early in the morning meowing at your room’s door. At first you thought she did that because she was hungry, but when you put food in her bowl she ignores it and keeps meowing.

You realized then, that she wanted you to follow her as she twirled and rubbed on the floor. She would wait for you at the door and would keep scratching it, waiting for you to open it.

“It's too early for a walk, Bo-mi”, you tell her, shaking your head and turning around, going back to your bed to try and sleep a little bit more before work.

She keeps insisting on the early morning walks, but you don't give in, you can't have her get used to going out when it's still time for you to be sleeping.

After a few days, Bo-mi starts having that same behavior late at night, when you are already in bed, ready to go to sleep. She meows for minutes straight until you get up and walk with her to the door.

“Bo-mi, we can't go out now, I'm already in my pjs”, you sigh, patting her. But she keeps scratching the door and meowing for you to go out. “Tomorrow is Friday, okay? So I can stay up late to take you out for a walk”, you tell her before going back to your room.

You spend the next day trying to figure out why she's acting this way. You think about the possibility of her being sick, but she's eating and drinking water normally and she's sleeping the same amount as she always did. Her last check up wasn't even two months ago, even so, you should definitely make an appointment with the veterinarian.

You arrive at home and Bo-mi comes running to you, purring and rubbing herself on you. After you pet her, she goes back to the couch, getting comfortable there again, she doesn't even try to go to the door. Why does she just want to go out when it's late? Or early in the morning? It’s just strange.

Thinking too much about it won't help you find out what's going on, so you give up on the thoughts and just go to the bathroom to take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes since you have to take the lady of the house for a walk in a few hours.

Everything kind of makes sense when you open the door and Bo-mi goes running to the corridor, however, she stops at your neighbor's door, sniffing a bit. The sound of the elevator takes you out of your thoughts and your cat walks in that direction finding a strange man coming out of the elevator.

He looks at her and smiles, trying to go past her but she throws herself in the ground, showing her belly to him and rubbing herself on the floor.

Before you can speak, the guy bends down, petting and making her meow. You look at your watch to see that he's arriving at the exact time that Bo-mi tries going out every night. The weirdest thing is that she hates strangers, especially men.

“I’m sorry”, you finally get out of your head to say something, “she has been acting strangely lately”

“It's okay”, he says, without looking at you. Hypnotized by your cat's little meows and cuteness. “I actually saw her on the balcony one of these days, but couldn't pet her because of the distance”, he chuckles. “What's her name?”

He finally looks at you when asking that and for a moment it seems like the world stops for the both of you. He's the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life, with cute boba eyes and an innocent look.

“It's Bo-mi”, you tell him, feeling your cheeks a bit warm.

He clears his throat, petting your cat for the last time before standing up again, fixing his clothes. He didn't look at you at first, but you are so pretty it actually left him speechless and that is a hard thing to achieve. He was even going to make a joke about cats, but couldn't even manage to get that out while looking at your face.

“I'm sorry to ask, but do you also go out around five a.m.?” You ask out of nowhere, making him look at you suspiciously.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I think my cat is in love with you”, you tell him, pointing at Bo-mi, rubbing herself on his legs. “She always tries to go out around five in the morning or at this time of the night, I guess she wanted to see you again”

You really understand Bo-mi on that, you would also want to see him everyday if you had the chance.

“Oh”, he smiles, “I'm Minho by the way, I moved here two weeks ago”, he says pointing to his apartment.

“I'm y/n”, you give your hand for him to shake, “I know it's weird to ask this, but can I bring her out sometimes so she can see you?” You ask, shyly, making Minho chuckle.

“Yeah”, he nods, “maybe you can also meet my cats”, he says, feeling his ears warming up. “I mean, in a housewarming party, of course”, he completes.

“I would love that”, you smile and he feels like he could melt just with that, “I'll take her home now”, you catch Bo-mi in your arms even though she struggles to get out of your grasp and go back to Minho, “I'll wait excitedly to meet your cats”

Minho watches you go into your apartment, waving to him before closing the door. Now, how the hell does a housewarming party even work?

#lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know scenario #lee know imagine #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #k-labels #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #lee know fluff

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

youtube

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

youtube

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

#rita hayworth #jane fonda #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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warmilikeit · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

I got this idea from another Tumblr post and I'm pretty new so, ion know how to tag and stuff, pls tell me

______________

"So... My mom just disappeared?" A little 6 year old (Name) asks Alfred about her mom

Alfred turned back like he was reminiscing "The Gala was for three nights, the first night she mesmerized all, the second night she befriended everyone, the third night she slept with your father"

.....

"then she disappeared, then you were dropped on our little doorstep! We were skeptical at first then we DNA tested you, you're Bruce's kid so you are the Wayne Manor's baby! And you and your Daddy are one big happy family"

That was lie. That a big lie

You know Alfred was just trying to make you feel better

It wasn't working.

________________________

You feel like shit, they look so fucking happy, for years and years have passed, your 12 now for God sake

Every year a new family photo was taken and as the years pass more and more people are added to the photos

And the phrase "the more the merrier was always said to you" like they were trying to drill it into your head, but it seemed like every year, you were being pushed farther and farther back into the photos till you're barely noticeable

It sucks at home and it sucks at school, at home at least you only had Damian to worry about, he would torture and bully you, remind you of how unloved and unwanted you were here, but at school?

It was everyone.

It doesn't help how you're unable to focus that much either, always getting called by teachers when you're not paying attention, and then them ridiculing you

Also, with the fact that your entire family are vigilantes except you.

Except you, you tried, and you were good at it, the problem was, why did it seem like a lot of villains were after you

So you were stuck at the manor

"hello" a woman inside the Manor spoke

This shocked you, she looked too old to be another kid adopted by that... But you can't be too sure

"new kid?" You asked

She seemed taken aback, but then it was like a veil was lifted and she transformed into this ew

Wtf did she just turn into?

Suddenly she had this donkey leg and snake tongue and fire for hair, her eyes slit and she hissed at you

Then she attacked

"OH WHAT THE FUCK"

With no weapon and no Alfred in hand, you ran

She ran after you and lit the hallways on fire in the process

You ran fast and far, to the outskirts of the mansion and straight into the garden, now when you thought your day could not get ANYMORE weirder, a voice calls out in the bushes

"I knew it! I knew you were a half-blood!I wasn't sure, but now I am!" You turn around and see a full ass tree transform into a beautiful lady

You're sure that Gotham Prep once talked about the side effects of drugs, and even if you haven't taken any drugs, you feel the side effects

"don't be scared, I'm a nymph! Me and my friends will help you run away from the empousa!" She grabbed me and threw me in the lake

A hand grabs you and pulls you further underwater, as much as you struggled, the hand kept pulling you and pulling you till your deep and then changed direction

Like you guys were heading somewhere, it felt like days, the hands alternating, first hands were blue and the lady whom the hands belonged too sounded worried, second hands were green, the lady was surprised

Third hand was light bluish purple, she expressed concern and kept pulling

The last hand was of human skin tone, pulling you up to shore

"Sir Chiron! There's a camper! The Naiads bought her here! Sir Chiron!"

He turns to look at you a bit worried, he looked from 13-14

He said "My name is Percy Jackson, and yours?"

_________________

Empousa: haha an unsuspecting demigod!

(Name) thinking that Bruce adopted another one: new kid?

Empousa: :o

_______________

Who do y'all think (Name)'s mom is?

Also the lack of Batfam dialogue is meant to represent their neglectful behavior, too bad their not gonna have a kid to return to

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #yandere platonic #yandere batfam #dc universe #crossover #percy jackson #greek mythology #dcu #warmyanderepjoxdc

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gracexthoughts · 5 months ago

Text

Seven

jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!aunt!oc

content/warnings; canon typical incest, slight talk of death/violence, Alicent being rude, angst and fluff

summary; Jacaerys and Aelyria were childhood bestfriends, inseparable and mischievous, until the princess Rhaenyra moved her family to Dragonstone, leaving her youngest half sister without her closest companion. Nearly a decade later, King Viserys has decided the feud within his family too far gone and declared the betrothal of Prince Jacaerys to his youngest daughter to help heal the rift.

a/n; inspired by seven by taylor swift and jace’s talk with baela about fathers. I know this pairing has been done a lot but I really love it and hope I did it justice. about 4k words.

Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

“Aely!” The young prince Jacaerys called after the princess as she sprinted off into the woods. “Slow down!” Even though he was taller, she was quick and had run off before he could even get ready. Her laugh rings out over the grass as she darts into the woods, Jacaerys on her heels.

The entirety of the royal family, accompanied by many lords and ladies, had traveled to the Kingswood for a royal hunt in celebration of the Prince Jacaerys' 10th name day. As he is the future heir to the Iron Throne, the crown had spared no expense for the celebration. Jacaerys himself, however, was not at present interested in whatever creature was being tracked down in his name, his sights set on adventure with the young Princess Aelyria, the King and Queen’s youngest child. Having been born mere months apart, they had grown to be quite close; they trained with their dragons together in the Dragonpit, had discovered and begun exploring the passageways in the Red Keep, and Aelyria had taken to sneaking into the princes’ training sessions in her own desire to learn to fight along with her favorite nephew. And when she would inevitably get dragged away by her mother or the septa, Jace would sneak into her chambers later that evening with two training blades in hand to teach her what he had learned that day.

As Jacaerys breaks through the treeline, he runs straight into Aelyria, who had stopped suddenly in the woods, sending the pair tumbling forward in a heap of limbs. “Jace!” the princess cried, a laugh in her voice as they disentangled themselves and their cloaks.

“You’re the one who stopped!” Jace laughs in his defense. “Why did you? I thought we were racing to the creek,” he wonders, standing and extending his hand down to help up the princess, a princely boy even at his young age.

“I thought I saw something but we must have scared it off now,” she says, taking his hand and standing, not bothering to brush the dirt off her skirts. The princess’ lilac eyes flicker with mischief as she looks around the woods surrounding them, her eyes settling on a nearby tree with low branches fit for climbing. “C’mon!”

Before Jacaerys can respond, the princess is pulling herself up to the lowest branch, swinging her legs over with ease, not a care in the world for the preservation of her skirts. She was always quite boyish, never heading her mother’s lessons of ladylike manners and behaviors. The young prince has never minded though, enjoying her wildness and sense of adventure. A day with her was never boring.

Soon the young royals were high in the treeline, standing on either side of the large trunk balanced on branches as they took in the view around them. Their breaths were labored from the climb, their cheeks flushed and smiles wide. The ruckus of the hunt was left far behind and below them, not able to reach them in the trees. “I wish we could stay here forever,” the princess sighs, sitting down on her branch, her legs swinging.

“Why?” the prince asks, watching her curiously.

“It’s quiet,” she says softly, looking up at the still standing prince. “And beautiful and here my mother can’t yell at me to be more ladylike.” She rolls her eyes and mimics her mother’s intonation. Jacaerys laughs, climbing over and sitting next to the princess on her branch.

“When we are older, I’ll be King and I’ll command your mother to leave you be.”

“Will you let me be a knight?” the princess asks, excitement in her voice.

“If you’d like!” Jacaerys laughs. “You could be my sworn protector.”

“I’d be a brilliant knight.” the princess declares, straightening her back and puffing out her chest and the pair fall into giggles.

“Well I promise then, once I’m King I’ll make sure your mother can never tell you to be ladylike again!” Jacaerys declares, holding out his pinky to the girl, who smiles and links hers with his, thankful for him.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Jacaerys makes his way through the dark halls of Dragonstone, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he makes his way to the Great Hall. Nearing his destination, the voices of his mother and stepfather leak out through the ajar door. He pauses for a moment, not wishing to walk in on an intimate moment.

“He says he wishes for it in the hope it will heal the rift between our families,” his mother says, her voice smooth and calm.

“So he may fall prey to their vicious children? How do we know this isn’t a Hightower scheme?” Daemon challenges with clear disdain in his voice.

“I cannot believe this idea came from Alicent nor Otto,” the princess responds.

“Does not mean she won’t take advantage of it. She may be instructing Aelyn on how to best manipulate him at this moment.”

“Her name is Aelyria, Daemon,” Rhaenyra corrects, peaking Jacareys’ interest further. His mother’s youngest half-sister was not a common topic of conversation in their home, even if she far preferred her half-sisters to her half- brothers. “They were friends when they were children; Jace doted on her even. It may prove to be a good match.”

Daemon opens his mouth to respond but stops when he sees Jacaerys entering the room with a questioning look on his face.

“Jace,” his mother says happily, smiling at him and motioning for him to come in. He obliges, his long stride carrying him through the room quickly to stand at the Painted Table with his mother and stepfather. “Apt timing. We just received word from your grandsire the King, he has suggested a match for you.”

“A match? Who?” the young prince inquires, his gaze darting between Rhaenyra and Daemon, acting as if he had not been eavesdropping.

“The Princess Aelyria. You are the same age, both unwed, and the King remembers how close you were as children,” his mother states, setting down the scroll of parchment in her hand on the table. “He thinks you would make a fine pair, and she a good Queen to have by your side.” Daemon scoffs slightly to her left, walking away to lean against the mantle above the hearth. Jacaerys stays silent for a moment. Marriage was something he knew would be coming but in truth, he hadn’t given it much thought. The princess he remembered was a small, spirited little girl with a quick wit and even quicker temper. She often snuck out of her own lessons to join the princes in their trainings, and trained in the Dragonpit alongside them for many years. He’d certainly held a boyhood crush on her then but Jacaeyrs struggles to imagine who she has grown into.

“What say you, Mother?” he asks finally, looking up from the Painted Table to meet her eyes.

“I quite agree with my father,” she says after a moment. “It would do well to have our line of succession shored up, and the princess would make a fine match. While she has a reputation for being a little wild, I also hear that she has a good heart and a kind reputation among the smallfolk that would strengthen your reign when the time comes,” She says, moving closer to her son, “But it is your opinion that matters most in this.”

“And of the Hightowers?” Daemon interjects from his place at the hearth, his eyes fixed on the flames.

“Even they are not above the will of the King,” Rhaenyra responds, “We would have to go to King’s Landing for the wedding, but we needn’t stay.” Jacaerys holds his mother’s gaze for a long moment, mulling the idea of marriage, to someone he hardly knows any longer, over in his mind. “So?”

“Yes, I accept,” he says with a nod, attempting to look more sure of himself than he feels. His mother smiles, raising his confidence slightly, and nods.

“Then I shall write to my father,” she says, and kisses Jacaerys’ forehead before retrieving the scroll from the table and retreating from the room. Jacaerys lingers for a moment, watching Daemon whose eyes are trained on his wife’s retreating figure.

“The Hightowers are scheming and dangerous. You should watch this girl carefully,” he says to the young prince finally.

“She’s not a Hightower, she’s a Targaryen,” Jacaerys responds quickly, already feeling protective over his betrothed.

“Same thing for that lot,” Daemon responds darkly before grabbing his sword from the table and following after the princess.

Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

The Prince grunts slightly as his feet hit the solid ground after lowering himself from Vermax’s back, stiff from the long ride. He and his mother have come to King’s Landing for the first time in many years so he and the princess can be reacquainted before their wedding in a moon. The rest of their family will come for the wedding but Rhaenyra wanted to avoid any repeat of the last time they were all together.

Jacaerys would never reveal this secret but he was quite nervous. He could barely remember the face of the princess, let alone what she could look like or what her personality was now. Was she still as wild and rebellious and boyish as she was or has she relented to her mother’s will and become a lady? Jacaerys watches quietly as his mother speaks with the guards, requesting a carriage be brought to take them back to the castle, and as the Dragonkeepers escort Vermax and Syrax into the Dragonpit. Jacaerys wonders if Vermax remembers his first home still, the place they first bonded. He is quickly torn from his thoughts as a shadow passes over them and looking up, he sees a beautiful white and golden dragon making its descent to the ground.

The dragon and her rider’s backs are facing the prince once they land but the woman in front of him was undoubtedly the princess, for he’d recognize her dragon, Starfyre, anywhere. He watches as the princess pats her dragon on the neck, before leaping from the saddle and landing easily on the ground. She faces away from him still, speaking to the Dragonkeeper in High Valyrian but the prince finds himself taking in every detail he can. Her silver gold hair is intricately braided to hang down to the small of her back, her legs are long and wrapped in trousers made for riding, and a black riding coat accentuates her curves and hangs to her knees, her voice is melodic and sure in her High Valyrian. She nods to the Dragonkeeper and turns, pulling her riding gloves off with her teeth before her lilac eyes find Jacaerys and Rhaenyra.

“Jace?” she calls, stepping away from her dragon and closer to him. She has the wide doe eyes of her mother still but everything else of her is Targaryen through and through, sharp features and high cheekbones, and her smile more beautiful than Jacaerys remembers it.

“Aely,” he responds with a smile, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword, unsure of where else to put them.

“I didn’t think you were arriving until later this evening,” the princess says, her eyes scanning the prince. Like Jacaerys, she has spent much time wondering how the boy she knew has changed into the man she’s been betrothed to and she is stunned at what she finds. His face is angular and handsome framed by long dark curls. He is tall and lean while still appearing strong, his warm brown eyes the exact same as she recalls.

“We got an earlier start than expected,” Rhaenyra steps forward, “How are you, sister?”

“I am well, and you?” Aelyria nods. Rhaenyra has always been her favorite sibling, even if they weren’t close. She looked up to the women as a child, and her mother’s distaste towards the princess made Aelyria feel a certain kinship with her half sister.

“We are well. Are you headed back to the Keep?”

“I am, would you ride back with me?” she offers, motioning to the carriage pulling up to the gates of the Dragonpit.

“That is kind, thank you,” Rhaenyra says with a smile, and a wink for her son, and moves toward the carriage but Aelyria hangs back, her eyes trailing over her betrothed again.

“You are much changed since I last saw you,” the prince says, stepping forward.

“I can say the same for you, nephew,” she says, failing to keep her mischievous smile from her face. Jace had always hated when she called him that as children, but he can’t find the annoyance in him at the moment, too entranced by the sound of her voice. Instead he laughs and shakes his head, holding his arm out to escort the princess to the carriage so they can make their way back to the Red Keep.

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with Me and we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry Or hide in the closet And just like a folk song Our love will be passed on

Jacareys wanders through the halls of the Red Keep, familiarity and strangeness battling in his mind. The castle has changed much in the near decade of his absence and yet, he could see it as it was in his youth: the halls the same he and his brother ran through, the Dragonpit the same as it was the first day he rode Vermax, the secret passages the same as when he and Aelyria discovered them as children. Jacareys found himself mindlessly making his way to the training yard, allured by the sound of steel against steel.

Jacareys steps into the training yard to find Princess Aelyria and Prince Aemond sparing in the center. He remembers well how she would watch the princes in training, even picking up a sword and practicing herself before being run off by Ser Cristen or her mother or the septa. She’s grown much in the years since he last saw her, her skills far outpacing that of which he had imagined. Jacareys watches as she circles Aemond, striking, blocking and dodging with surprising speed and accuracy. Jacareys finds his gaze drawn to her legs, unhidden by skirts as she stands in trousers, the riding coat she favors tossed over a training dummy.

Princess Aelyria’s laughter echoes off the walls of the yard as she stands up from her dodge of her brother’s blunted sword, having ducked and rolled under the blade to recover behind him. Aemond turns around in frustration, swinging again with his blade as Aelyria reaches up to block his attack before stepping under his reach and elbowing the prince in the side. With her small stature and lesser strength, the princess had learned that speed and agility were her friends in bouts and quickly excelled in her capabilities. Aemond grunts from the blow to his side, his steps staggering slightly as his sister circles him, waiting for her to recover.

“Ready to yield, brother?” she taunts, her lips turned up in a smirk.

“You’re the one running,” he bemoans, righting himself and raising his sword, readying to strike again but lowers his blade, his eyes fixed over Aelyria’s shoulder with a sly smile. “Come to train, nephew?” The princess turns, her eyes finding Jacaerys pushing off the wall, his brown eyes trained on the prince.

“To speak with my betrothed,” he answers, his gaze shifting to Aelyria and softening for her. Aemond eyes narrow, upset at the match as much as his mother, leveling a menacing glare at his nephew before taking his leave without another word. “He doesn’t like me,” Jacaerys states, as the door to the yard slams, and turns back to Aelyria who chuckles.

“Aemond likes no one,” she responds, leaning on the training blade, "He merely tolerates me as he has no one else to spar with save Cole."

“It may be,” the prince says, suddenly feeling uneasy under her gaze. “When did the Queen surrender to your training?”

“Soon after your leave, if I remember correctly. They grew weary of disciplining me with no effect,” the princess smirks.

“As you always hoped,” they chuckle, a hint of their old familiarity returning. The prince glances at the table of training weapons. “Care for another round?”

“If you can keep up,” she smirks, tossing him the blade Aemond had left in his wake. Aelyria makes the first move, but Jacaerys quickly counters. He holds back at first, unsure of fighting with a woman, but he quickly learns that Aelyria is quite capable and a formidable opponent and he begins to let loose. They are well matched, meeting blow for blow until both of them are sweaty and panting.

“You fight well,” the prince compliments, his chest rising and falling quickly and a curl sticking to his damp forehead.

“Thank you, you do as well. Much better than when you would teach me in my chambers,” Aelyria laughs, wiping at her hairline where baby hairs stick to her skin.

“You make it sound quite scandalous,” Jacaerys jests, setting aside the training blades.

“It was to us then,” the princess points out, remembering how careful they were to not get caught.

“True enough,” he laughs, his eyes lost in hers, the soft lilac of her irises beautiful and intriguing to him as ever. “You know, I’ve missed you, in truth. I never had as much fun alone as with you here,” the prince says softly, stepping forward and brushing a stray hair from the princess’ brow. The air becomes thick between them, their eyes locked together.

“I missed you too, my brothers are poor company compared to you-”

“Aelyria!” The voice of the Queen rings out over the courtyard, startling the Jacaerys and Aelryia who back away from each other quickly. The queen stalks over to her daughter, grabbing her arm roughly. Aelyria’s face sours and she yanks her arm from her mother’s grip, leveling her with a hard stare. “You have a dress fitting you are currently missing and you look a mess. I thought you could put away this foolishness for one hour. You would think this is my wedding for as much as you seem to care about it!”

“Mother, I-”

“I apologize, your Grace. The princess had finished near an hour ago but I stepped in. I don’t have many sparring partners save my brothers on Dragonstone. The fault is mine,” Jacaerys steps in, unable to ignore the anger bubbling in his stomach at the queen’s treatment of her daughter.

“Price Jacaerys, it is good to see you again. I am afraid I cannot stay, but I hope you are settling back in well,” Alicent says to the prince, her face barely masking her distaste of him, before she turns back to her daughter. “Come, Aelyria.” Jacaerys watches as the princess takes a deep breath and, flashing him an apologetic smile, turns to follow her mother back into the castle.

Please picture me In the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

“Come in,” Aelyria calls softly at the knock on her door. Jacaerys steps into her chambers at her permission and smiles as he closes the door. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the prince says softly, moving to sit next to Aelyria at the table in the center of her room. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I did not mean to keep you and I regret that I did.”

“I do not. I could have been bathed and early and perfectly excited and she still would have found something wrong. The fault is not yours,” the princess assures, placing a hand over his and squeezing gently. Before she can pull her hand back, Jacaerys clasps his hand to hers, relishing the feeling.

“I’m sure it is hard for girls and their mothers as it is with boys and fathers,” the prince says sympathetically.

“Is it hard, with you and your stepfather?” The princess asks, her eyes on their hands.

“Sometimes, it was strange at first but he’s been my father almost as long as my actual father was,” Jacaerys shrugs.

“You know, I don’t think I ever got to tell you how sorry I was for you when your father passed,” Aelyria says softly.

“Oh,” the prince says, surprised by her and shakes his head. “Seems so long ago now but I was glad he passed on Driftmark, I know he missed it while away.”

“That’s not who I meant,” the princess says, and Jacaerys, on instinct stiffens at the realization she means Ser Hardin Strong, and not Leanor Velaryon from whom Jace received his name. “I don’t hold it against you like my mother and brothers do. Seems a silly thing for them to care so much about,” Aelryia adds quickly, sensing his unease.

“Really?” Jacaerys eyes find hers, shock shining in the dark brown of them.

“You wouldn’t be you if you had another father and I’ve always quite liked you as you are,” the princess smiles, her thumb grazing against the back of Jacaerys’ hand as a slight blush colors his cheeks. “What was he like?” She asks after a moment.

“He was gentle, and fierce… They called him Breakbones,” Jacaerys smiles, Aelyria along with him, but there’s a sadness in his eyes still. “He loved us, I think.”

“Of course he did. Otherwise he would not have defended you so fiercely against Cole.”

“You remember that?”

“I do,” Aelyria nods, leaning back in her chair. “It was the first time I saw a true fight. I remember thinking that I had to learn how to fight like that. It felt so necessary, like it was all I wanted… Your father gave me that.” Jacaerys blinks at her for a moment, a strange smile on his lips. “What?” He shakes his head slightly.

“No one ever calls him my father, not even my mother,” he says after a moment, looking down to where their hands are intertwined on the table. “It’s nice,” he adds after a breath.

“He’d be proud of you, of who you’ve become,” Aelyria says suddenly, sitting forward and using her free hand to lift Jacaerys’ chin.

“He’d be happy we’re betrothed,” Jacaerys smiles, leaning closer to the princess.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I remember one time, he happened to be watching training and you had just gotten dragged away by the Queen but you had put up a good fight before you left and he said, ‘There’s a warrior if I’ve ever seen one.’ I remember looking up at him and he just winked at me, almost like he knew.”

“I wish I had known him better,” Aelyria says softly after a moment and Jacaerys nods, squeezing her hand.

“Me too…” Jacaerys nods. For a moment, the pair sit in a comfortable silence, gazing at each other, taking in the fact that they’re together again after all this time. “Do you remember that hunt we had on my tenth nameday? When we ran off into the woods, hiding in the trees?” Aelyria laughs, the memory washing over her at his question and nods.

“Yes, I do. Oh, what fun we had that day. We only got found because we could not stop laughing as they rode underneath us. Mother was so angry I ruined that dress,” they laugh at the memory together. Even though it had ended in a scolding for each of them, neither ever regretted that day.

“I remember what I promised that day, and I swear I’ll keep it. Now that we’re betrothed, you are mine, and I am yours and once we’re wed, I’ll make sure you never have to heed your mother unless you wish to,” Jacaerys leans forward, intensity in his gaze as he makes this promise to Aelyria. “I quite like you as you are, and I won’t have her try to change you.”

Aelyria smiles gratefully, wondering how she got so lucky as to be marrying this man; the boy she grew up with and loved as a girl, and the man sitting in front of her, with all his fierceness and devotion. Aelyria, too moved to speak, leans forward instead, pressing their lips together softly in thanks. Jacaerys doesn’t miss a beat, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek as he kisses her back. Her hand winds in his hair and their hands hold to each other tighter on the table between them. As their lips part, they don’t move away, instead connecting their brows together. They smile at each other, giddy in their love, hearts beating rapidly as one, as they always have and always will. I, I Sweet tea in the summer Cross my heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We'll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs Our love lasts so long

#jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys strong #jace velaryon #jacerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jace targaryen #Jacaerys velaryon fluff #Jacaerys velaryon angst #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacae

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phoward89 · 5 months ago

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Based on this ask

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Reader, Stalker!Coriolanus x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Stalking, obsession, controlling behavior, manipulation, slight kidnapping?, smut, breeding kink, masterbation, p in v, noncon, dubcon, degradation

Coriolanus Snow to the unsuspecting eye was a gentleman. He was clean cut, dressed well, seemed well mannered and sophisticated. He was also very successful and wealthy.

Coriolanus didn't come across as a dangerous man, as somebody that would lurk in the shadows of the night outside of your windows, but he was. He truly was.

Unfortunately for you, you caught his eye one day while simply passing him by along the street. He just had to know who you were, so one evening he found himself loitering outside of his penthouse building, waiting for you to pass by again. And when you did, he followed you.

He kept a reasonable distance so you wouldn't know you were being followed. Clever, right?

Well, he ended up following you to your building. He followed you inside and stalked you as you went to the area in the lobby the mailboxes were at. He watched as you retrieved your mail and then left to use the stairwell to reach your floor.

Of course, he went over to the mailbox and looked at the one he'd just seen you open.

Low and behold your name and address was written on it.

Y/N Halvir, Apt. 401.

Coriolanus couldn't help, but think that your name suits you. A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady. A young lady that he's become obsessed with. No, not just obsessed, but love struck by.

And it was at that very moment that Coriolanus Snow decided he's going to stalk her. Except in his mind it's not stalking because he has no ill will towards you. He just wants to watch you, well actually he wants to study you, before he approaches you; asks you out.

Coriolanus watches you for weeks upon weeks. So many weeks, in fact, that it turns into months. What was supposed to be watching you short term became a long term thing.

And what made it alarming was that he'd stand on the fire escape right outside of your bedroom and peek inside the window; watch you sleep in the dead of night. Oh, how he hated the nights where there wasn't any moonlight. It was always a struggle to see you on those nights.

And it was on one of those nights that Coriolanus’ stalking took a turn for the worse.

It was a dark and moonless night, a hot one too since it was summer. The AC unit in your building had broken and the building superintendent said that it'd take a few days for the unit to be repaired. Apparently a part for the unit had to be bought and imported from 3. So, since it was so hot, you opened your window to let in some fresh air to cool you during the night.

Something you did innocently is now being used for dark actions. Coriolanus, needing to see you, shoves your window up even higher, only to use it to climb into your bedroom. A bedroom that you're currently sound asleep in; unaware of the danger lurking mere yards away from you. But, as it would turn out, being yards away from you wasn't enough.

No.

Coriolanus had to be closer to you. So much closer that he walked up to your side of the bed, looming over your body, which was covered in a silky cami and sleep shorts- shorts so small that they could be considered underwear. Coriolanus can see the sweet cheeks of your ass and, being a classic T&A man, all the blood in his body rushes straight to his cock.

The sudden hard bulge straining against his pants is too tight and very uncomfortable. So much so, that the platinum blonde man starts to palm and his aching hardness in a desperate move to feel some relief. But, as it turns out, palming his bulge didn't bring him relief.

Instead, it made him mad with desire. His cock grew harder and his thirst for release grew. Grew so unquenchable that He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and tugged out his cock.

Coriolanus let out a hissing sigh as his fist wrapped around his aching cock, thumb gathering the pre-cum leaking from his angry red tip. He's literally biting his tongue to stay quiet as he lubes his length with his precum. His balls tingle at the vulgarity of the situation he's in as he starts to pump his cock.

Oh, how being so close to you; watching your beautiful, angelic body sleeping is such a turn on for Coriolanus. He knows it's not normal to sneak into somebody's bedroom window, stand feet away from them, and jerk off, but when has he ever been normal? In fact, Coriolanus thinks himself as extraordinary and above everyone- even the law, social normalities and taboos.

His cerulean eyes lock onto your form as his hand glides up and down his long, hard shaft. He gives his cock a light squeeze as his wrist gets close to the base of him- in his fantasies he's pretending that it's your soft hand gripping him and jerking him off. Oh, how he can't wait for the day he had you on your knees playing with his cock like a good lil slut.

He plans on teaching you exactly how he likes to be fondled and sucked. Coriolanus will also train you in bed, make sure you know how he expects you to behave while he fucks you.

Just the thought of training you to be his lil fuckdoll has his cock throbbing in his hand. Oh, he's so close to cumming. He'd love nothing more then to cum in your tight lil cunt, maybe even on or in your ass too, but he can't do that tonight.

No.

Tonight all he can do is cum on your carpet and pray that you don't notice the spot.

And that's exactly what Coriolanus does. He fucks his fist with such vigor that he bites the inside of his cheek, drawing blood, as he cums- shooting white ropes of his seed onto your bedside rug.

After he's spent, he quickly tucks himself away and straightens his pants before buckling his belt and climbing out of your window. As he walks down your fire escape, Coriolanus decides that he's going to approach you tomorrow on the Corso sidewalk, make small talk, and ask you out.

After the special moment you just shared, how could he go another day without locking you away in a golden gilded cage?

It's early evening and you're on your way home from work. You work as a secretary for your father, Colonel Javani Halvir, at his consulting firm that specializes in military strategies. The pay was good and you got along with your boss, given that he's your dad.

The hours were a bit hectic sometimes, but your father never let you work overtime. He always sent you home at 5 o’clock, saying that he didn't want his only daughter to become an obsessed work-a-holic.

And home just happened to be an apartment off of a Corso side street.

Your father helped you pick out the building since it was close to your family's apartment on the Corso. Your father didn't want you too far away from home for fear that something might happen to you.

Of course, Javani Halvir never dreamed that the newly hired Assistant Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow, the son of his former best friend General Crassus Snow, would be a danger to you living alone in your own apartment. But how would your father know about the dangers that linger along the Corso?

No one ever thinks that stalkers, lowlifes, and *gasp* killers live and mill around the Corso. Those types of people are found in the part of town the rail station’s in.

Anyways, you're walking down the street, minding your own business, whenever somebody accidentally bumps into you while passing you by. You're wobbly on your feet due to your high heels; you would've called down too from being bumped into if a large hand didn't wrap around your arm and balance you.

You look up and to the side slightly, to thank whoever just saved you from busting your ass, only to lock eyes with the most beautiful man you've ever seen. His eyes are a breathtaking shade of icy blue and his platinum blonde hair’s slicked back neatly, you also take in that chiseled jaw’s clean shaven. His nose is also prominent and seems to make him look distinguished.

“Are you alright, miss? I'm sorry for bumping into you.” The man, who looked like he was sculpted by the gods himself, asks with a concerned look painting his features.

“Oh, yes, I'm alright.” You assure the man. “Thank you.” You smile, feeling butterflies form in your stomach from the smile that the platinum blonde man gives you.

A smile that's all pearly whites and charm.

The man introduces himself with, “I'm Coriolanus Snow; who might you be?”

“Y/N Halvir.” You simply tell him.

“Well, Y/N, why don't I take you out to dinner as an apology for nearly knocking you over on the sidewalk?” Coriolanus suggests, sounding like a proper gentleman wanting to write a simple wrong- an accident really.

“Okay.” You agree to the impromptu and random dinner date. But, you don't want to go out in your work clothes. “But I'd like to get changed into something nice first.”

“Oh, why don't I walk you to your apartment then?” Coriolanus asks, feeling so excited at being presented with the opportunity to be inside of your apartment.

And how he does love being inside of your apartment.

“If you don't mind waiting in the lobby, then sure you can walk me.” You reply. Honestly, you thought he'd just ask for your address and pick you up later. But that wasn't the case.

Something shines in Coriolanus' bright blue eyes as he counters your request with, “I don't see why I can't wait in your living room while you freshen up in your bedroom.”, while offering you his arm.

“We just met, Coriolanus.” You remind him while looping your arm in the crook of his. “I don't think it'd be proper for you to be waiting around for me in my living room while I change.”

“Y/N, my darling rose, I assure you that I'm an absolute gentleman and a proper Capitolite man. I won't bother you while you get dolled up.” Coriolanus pitched, sounding very sincere and trustworthy, as he walked down the sidewalk with you.

You assume that you're leading him to your apartment, but that's not the case at all. He already knows where it is. But you don't need to know that.

Coriolanus is truly a charming snake, telling you sweet lies that sound like gospel truth. He makes you feel comfortable with him; let down your guard just with bewitching smiles and a smooth baritone with a friendly undertone to it.

So, against your better judgment, you fold. You agree to let Coriolanus stay in your living room while you change into a nice dress for dinner.

While you're changing in your room, Coriolanus is jerking off in your bathroom. He can't help it, just being invited inside of your apartment as your man has his cock rock hard and throbbing. He has to take care of it otherwise he won't be able to sit thru dinner with you. He can't have that, now can he?

If he had any morals, any convictions at all, he'd feel horrible about standing above your toilet, fisting his cock as fast and hard as possible. But Coriolanus has no morals or convictions; he has no qualms with being a sinner. The platinum blonde enjoys the sins of the flesh, his black heart’s lifeblood is that of wicked deeds that gets him what he wants.

So, with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, he tugs at his cock until his cum spurts out into the toilet bowl below him.

Aftering cleaning up and righting himself, Coriolanus returns to the living room and sits in a sitting chair to wait for you. Acting as if he wasn't just masturbating in your bathroom to fantasies of you.

And when you finally emerge from your bedroom, dressed in a cute cocktail dress, Coriolanus is instantly on his feet, telling you how beautiful you look.

His compliment has you smiling. So much so, that your smile causes him to crack one as well.

And then you're off to a very nice restaurant nearby for your first date. A first date that went off without a hitch. Coriolanus was ever the gentleman; knew all the charming things to say to have you wrapped around his finger.

You felt comfortable around him, which is what he wanted. Is why he was so attentive to you during dinner.

So, when he asked you to his place for some after dinner drinks and to continue talking, well, you said yes. Of course you did, he made you feel special. He has you eating out of the palm of his hand and you didn't even know it.

“Your place is really nice.” You tell him as he leads you into the main room of the house, which is richly decorated in tones of blues, greys, and whites. The furniture's also very sleek and high end. Plush white upholstered sitting chairs and a sofa, glass coffee table, mahogany accent furniture, Tiffany lamps, onyx wall scones- truly high end furnishings.

“Thank you.” Coriolanus responds, his lips in a thin line that could constitute as a barely there smile. With his hand resting on the small of your back, he leads you towards a hallway. You look up at him with questioning eyes. “I don't live alone. This is my family penthouse, so we'll have to entertain ourselves in my bedroom so we don't accidentally wake up my sleeping grandmother, Grandma'am.” Coriolanus tells you as an answer to your unspoken question.

“Oh.” Shoots out of your mouth rather fast and squeakily. You weren't expecting to hear that. “But what about the wine?” You ask, remembering that the sole reason for agreeing to even come up to his penthouse was to have a glass of wine and continue talking to get to know each other.

“I have a mini wine fridge in my room, darling. Have some glasses too, so don't worry we'll have that glass of wine.” The platinum blonde with mesmerizing cerulean eyes assures you while leading you to the very room where your life will be changed.

You only have a few sips of your wine before Coriolanus, who's sitting next to you on a settee, takes your glass from you and sets it aside. His large calloused hands frame your face as his lips press against yours in a saccharine kiss. A kiss that's sugar and honey, full of promises of tender moments and pleasure to come.

Your breath hitches as your hands find their way to his shoulders to hold onto as a grounding anchor. He takes the opportunity of your lips slightly parting to deepen the kiss. As his tongue explores your mouth; dancing exotically with yours, you find your senses flaring on fire. Just the pleasure of his fervent kiss, a kiss so intense and borderline sloppy, sent your body into a whirlwind.

You've never been kissed like this before.

“Oh, baby, I need you so badly.” Coriolanus confesses between trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Corio-” You begin to say him name, only to cut yourself off with a surpriseed whine as you feel his fingertips brushing against the wet patch on your panties. When did he slide his hand underneath your dress? You didn't even notice.

“Baby, call me Coryo.” He orders, nibbling the sweet spot below your ear; making you moan breathily. Rubbing his finger over your wet, clothed slit, he groans into your neck, “Fuck, you're growing wetter by the minute.”

“Cause you're teasing me, Coryo.” You cheeky reply while feeling your clit begin to throb with anticipation and need. Oh gods, how you need to be touched or you're going to go crazy.

Coriolanus would get you all hot and bothered by his expert kisses and teasing touches.

“Oh, I am, am I?” Coryo asked, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck only to look down at you. A mischievous twinkle appears in his icy eyes as he smirks, “Well, we can't have that, now can we?”

He watches you with eagle eyes as he nudges your thighs open a tad bit and slides your panties to the side; running his finger up your slit to collect your wetness before rubbing your clit- causing a mewl to fall out of your mouth. The noises you make sound like music to Coriolanus’ ears; he wants to hear more. So much so, that he removes his hand from in between your thighs while huskily telling you, “Let's take this to the bed” His icy eyes are blown dark with lust as he adds in the promise of, “I'll make you sing like a canary.

“Okay.” You nod, too lost to your own growing lust to protest. Your pussy's aching for relief, aching to be filled and fucked. You'd be a fool to push away the handsome platinum Adonis wanting to fuck you.

Coryo flashes you a sensual look before standing and holding his hand out to you. Giving him a sultry look of your own while placing your hand in his; letting him pull you to your feet. You're expecting him to lead you over to his large king-sized bed, but instead he picks you up bridal style and carries you over to it. With a smoldering look, he places you on the bed.

“Oh, you look perfect perched on my bed, darling.” Coryo tells you, his icy eyes sweeping over you, as he quickly sheds his clothes.

“Perched on your bed? Am I your little bird now?” You joke, kicking off your heels and pulling your dress off over your head; tossing it to the side.

“Yes, darling, you're my little dove.” Coryo replies, striding over to the bed in nothing, but his black boxer briefs.

Boxer briefs that show off the very large cock he's packing.

Holy shit!

Coriolanus is a very endowed man. And this you can tell just by the big, heavy outline of his dick.

It makes your mouth water.

“Like what you see, my little dove?” Corio asks, his baritone deep with lust, as he pulls down his boxer briefs, causing his large length to spring forward and slap against his stomach.

“Yes.” You nod as he gets into bed.

“I think you're overdressed, baby.” He tells you, pulling you to sit up. “I'll just have to take care of that.” The platinum blonde smirks, unclasping your bra and pulling it off of you. “My God, your tits are perfect.” He nearly groans at the sight of your perky tits and their nipples just begging for him to tweak.

“You're a tittie man, aren't you?” You knowingly ask as Coryo grabs your breasts in his large hands while licking a stripe up the valley between your breasts.

He rests his chin in your cleavage while looking up at you. “Why yes, I just happen to enjoy good ol’ T&A.”

“You're perfect, aren't you?” You jokingly ask as he buries his face in your tits, pinching and tweaking your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

“Mhm…” He hums while leaving sloppy, wet, open mouth kisses all over your breasts.

The feeling of him playing with your nipples and lavishing your boobs with kisses and love bites has your pussy pooling. So much so that you begin to grind your cunt against his cock, which is pinned between his stomach and your pelvis as he's on top of you.

“You’re cunt's greedy for my cock, isn't she, little dove?” Coryo asks, sitting back on his haunches and gliding his large hands down your torso to stop at your hips. “Don't worry, I'll give that cunt of yours the biggest cock you've ever had.” He promises, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

“Please, Coryo. I need you so bad.” You beg as soon as the cool night air hits your hot, wet, needy pussy. Oh gods, the sensation’s driving you wild.

“You're so desperate for my cock, you're begging like a lil slut.” He tells you, giving his cock a few pumps.

The filthy words falling from Coryo's sophisticated mouth has your cunt drooling. Oh God, how those dirty, degrading words do something to you. You don't know why, but it turns you on.

Coryo thumbs his leaking tip, spreading his precum, before lining his cock up with your tight hole; getting into position to fuck you- to finally fulfill his fantasies. He's been waiting for this heavenly night for what feels like an eternity. Now that he has you spread out on his bed, legs wide out and begging him to fuck you like a good, needy girl, he's about to combust.

Coriolanus can't wait any longer. He has the patience of a saint and the soul of the devil when it comes to you. He took so long to reach this moment, but no that he has- well…he's never letting you go. No, he pushes his fat cock into your cunt, stretching you wider then you've ever been stretched before, and decides that he's not letting you out of his house.

Ever.

You belong to him now.

And he tells you as much once he bottoms out in you. But the way he words it is frightening and alarming.

“You're never leaving my penthouse, baby. You're my little pet now.” Coriolanus groans as he snaps his hips, pushing his cock in and out of your tight, wet went. Your velvety walls fit him like a glove. “Your cunt was made for my cock and only my cock; I'm never letting you out of my front door unless I'm escorting you somewhere.” He vows, causing a dreadful feeling to stir up deep inside of your chest.

“Coryo?” There's so many unsaid questions in the puzzled way you call out his name as pleasure burns in your core from the deep, steady pace he's fucking you in.

“I've been watching you for a while, darling. Peer inside your window every night, just dreaming about fucking you full of my babies.” Coriolanus confesses, his tone dark and husky, as he pistons in and out of you.

Your eyes widen in panic as his words register inside of your head. He wasn't dirty talking anymore, but confessing his dark sins. The sudden reaction that Coryo's been stalking you, for only the gods know how long, sends you into a panic. Your fight or flight instincts kick in and you're suddenly pushing against his shoulders, attempting to push the regal platinum blonde off of you while pleading, “Get off, Coryo. Please, get off of me.”

“Oh, I'm getting off alright, baby. Right in your tight cunt that belongs to me.” Coriolanus darkly chuckled, pinning your arms about your head. He uses one of his large hands to hold both your wrists while his other hand wraps around your neck. He bends his head, making his nose brush against yours, as he tells you in a devilish hiss, “Now, my little dove, stop fighting this and just accept that you're mine. That as soon as you set foot inside of this penthouse your independent identity ceased to exist; that your purpose is to be locked in the golden gilded cage I created for you.”

“Please-” You began to cry, only to be cut off by Coriolanus squeezing your throat lightly while ordering, “Don't cry and be afraid, baby. There's nothing to be afraid of, I'm not Jack the Ripper.”

No, he's worse.

Your cunt's fluttering around his cock as he pounds into you. Your body's feeling immense pleasure, but your soul's terrified. How can something feel so right, but be so wrong? You're torn between wanting to cum and wanting to run away.

“I love you, Y/N, and I'm gonna keep you with me forever.” The icy eyed man pinning you to the bed, fucking you with fervor and obsessive passion, told you in a sickenly sweet tone. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my baby, little dove.”

A baby? Oh no, you weren't ready for that yet.

“Coryo-” You began, having the intention of talking some sense into the psychotic, but handsome man fucking your brains out. But he cuts you off with a sloppy, heated kiss that's all teeth and passion.

A kiss that has your brain scrambling and your body blazing with want and need. As sick as it sounds, your lips respond to his kiss.

Oh, what the hell's wrong with you.

The kiss soon turns into an open mouth kiss, one that's dirty and full of spittle and gnashing teeth. “Fuck, baby, your cunt's clenching my cock. You gonna cum soon?” Coriolanus groans, picking up his speed as he pistons his cock in and out of his prize- your pussy.

“Yea, I'm close.” You tell him, feeling ashamed that your stalker’s bringing you so much pleasure.

“Oh, my pretty girl, be a good lil slut for me and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his voice raspy from lust, as pulls his hand off of your throat only to use the pad of his thumb to roughly rub at your swollen clit. “Cum for me, little dove.” He grunts, fucking into you hard and fast, as you begin to lightly thrash around under him.

Your body wants to cum so bad, but your mind's screaming that this is so wrong. That Coryo's obsession with you isn't normal, despite how good his dick's making your pussy feel.

“I want you to milk my cock, baby. Milk it dry so I can knock you up; make you a beautiful mother.” Coryo whispers huskily in your ear while doubling his frantically fast efforts on your clit.

You don't know if it's the dirty words being whispered or the feel of your clit being roughly rubbed paired with the large, girthy, cock splitting you open and hitting your g-spot just right, but you cum with a loud cry.

Coriolanus' cerulean blue eyes roll into the back of his head as he fuvks you thru your orgasm. The feeling of your cunt spasming and squeezing his cock has him cumming in mere minutes.

“Oh, fuck…fuck, baby, I'm filling you up til my cum's leaking out of your tight cunt.” Cory groans and grunts as his cock's milked by your cunt.

You feel his warm seed coating your inner walls and you can't help but feel like your life's over. Coriolanus Snow's the top Assistant Gamemaker; works right underneath Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul herself. He's rich and highly respected in the Capitol’s high society. Nobody will ever believe you, believe that Coriolanus is a psychopathic demon. That he stalked you and lured you to his lair, only to trick you into his bed only to reveal his nefarious intentions.

Why would anyone believe you? You're just a young lady that works at her father's consulting firm as a secretary. You have no prospects or suitors. While Coriolanus is a very successful man and some people would consider you lucky for catching his eye.

But you don't feel lucky. You feel like a bird that just had its wings clipped.

You know, without a doubt, that Coriolanus is never letting you go now. No, not with the creampie leaking from your cunt; the possibility that it creates his baby inside of you.

You're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Coriolanus roll off of you or pull you onto his arms to cuddle. But you're shaken out of your inner musings when he kisses you and declares, “You’re mine forever now, darling. I'm never letting you go.”

And you believe it. Deep down in your very soul you know that there's no escaping him.

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