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arabellasleopardcoat · 1 year ago

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Lookalike (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Warnings: Oh man. What a trip. Rapunzel, innocence kink, daddy issues, cursing, mature language. Light groping, kissing. Daemon, and all his usual warnings. Manipulation. I tried to make it whimsical. You know, a fairy tale.

Requested: Yup. For the bingo. Daemon + retelling of another story. Posted it early because I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up finishing this.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called Westeros, lived a King and a Queen. The Queen was a beautiful woman, with hair made of spun silver and gold.

The King and the Queen had a daughter, a bright girl called Rhaenyra. They loved her deeply, but as many powerful men behind him, the King could not help but wish for a son.

When the Queen had carried Rhaenyra, her pregnancy had been harsh. She had struggled to fall with child, and when she had, she had been sick the whole time. The Queen was not too sure if she could withstand another pregnancy.

“My love, I need my heir.” The King said to her. “You must help me and try again.”

“But husband, you know we cannot. The Maester said pregnancies were too rough on me."

“If I can't have my heir, I fear I will lose my throne!”

So the Queen decided to try again. Soon, she was with child. Yet, the Queen could feel something was different, this time. She got twice as large as she was when she was carrying Rhaenyra, her body ached even more. Only the hottest baths could soothe her abundant pains.

“This pregnancy is not normal, not normal at all.” Said the Maester, when examining the Queen. “I fear the delivery will be hard.”

And hard it was. For there was not one baby but two. A girl and a boy, a moon and a sun. The parents only found out when the Queen was unable to deliver the baby, and the King, believing it to be his precious heir, ordered the Maester to cut her open.

Wailing into the world they came, shrieks so loud they rose half the Red Keep. Every bell in the city was toiling for them. The King named his heir Baelon. The girl, the little moon, was forgotten. That was you.

Too young to know it then, your first hours were spent in your sister's arms, both of you forgotten in favor of the new heir. But it was barely hours at all when your little brother passed away.

At the funeral, the King was the picture of despair. His Queen was dead by his hand, his heir lasted no longer than a day. Now a father to a baby girl he didn’t know how to care for, and an unruly maiden.

Perhaps, sensing his despair and hoping to offer some words of comfort, and Arryn cousin took you from him and gasped:

“By the Sevens! If she is the very image of Aemma as a babe.” No one took in consideration that this Arryn cousin was not, in fact, older than the Queen.

“Is she?” The King asked, on the verge of tears. Your father could not stop remembering your mother’s face, as the Maester aided your entrance into the world. Her cries haunted him even in his sleep. He was turning into a decaying corpse, from inside out, guilt rotting him alive. “Rhaenyra, come here.”

“Father?”

“Does she look like your mother?”

Your sister squinted at you. You yawned, a toothless, sweet thing. Rhaenyra wasn't very knowledgeable about babes, but she liked you. You had grabbed into her finger the first time you had seen her, tiny fingers turning into the most adorable rings.

“She has her beauty.” She answered, politely. The King hummed, an idea sparkling into his head. Soon, the highest tower in the Red Keep was being repurposed, and the Hand relocated.

Nine and ten years later, that brings us to you, in a continent named Westeros. Inside it, Seven Kingdoms. Inside them, a city called King's Landing. Inside the city is a castle. In the castle, a tower. In the tower is a room. In the room, a girl. You.

You stared at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. You gave yourself a big smile.

“Father, I want to try claiming a dragon.” You repeated to the mirror, before shaking your head. “No, no. Too disrespectful. Lord Father, I was wondering if I could go and try to claim a dragon?”

The reflection did not answer. You frowned. You didn't like groveling, but you weren't too sure of what else you could do. Perhaps, sending him a note would be better.

As the youngest sister of the heir to the Iron Throne, you had led a sheltered life. Even more so, as the spitting image of his late wife, according to your father. When looked in the right light, your eyes were the same shade hers had been. And the way you spoke did resemble the short, clipped speech of the Vale.

No one dared question those things, even though your accent had been ensured by your father by providing you with tutors only from that region. The King was very protective of you, set on expiating his guilt over the death of your mother by ensuring your safety.

All of your care had been provided by him after her death. Viserys knew nothing about child-rearing, but refused to let any servant touch you beyond the wet nurse. You grew into a child, and your father didn't even know how to cut your long, silver hair.

Years passed, and soon you learned to take care of yourself. Used to long hair as you were, you never thought about cutting it. Instead, your mind was preoccupied with more urgent matters. For example, how could you get out of the Red Keep.

Sometimes, your father's protection turned overbearing. Unlike your older sister, you were not allowed to leave the castle. Nor had you been allowed to partake in the activities other young ladies did. The only way you had managed to know the world around you had been through your books and observations.

Your rooms were in the tallest tower in the Red Keep, ensuring you would be kept safe from intruders and even invaders, if such a thing ever came to pass. You had double the guards Rhaenyra and Viserys did. Instead of providing his new Queen with a sworn shield, he had chosen to devote all the Kingsguard to you.

While you knew your tower had been used for other things before, it had clearly been refurnished. Now, it worked as a castle of its own, inside which you had a tiny kitchen, bathing quarters, rooms, and a library. The idea was that you would never need anything outside it. A tiny universe, just for you. You had plenty of space for your books and trinkets, but it made for a lonely existence.

Each time there were unknown men roaming the Keep, you got sent back to your tower. Your father didn't like the idea of you being married off or corrupted by them. You were too precious, too good. He had said that when the day came, he would find you a good match. One that, you suspected, would keep you close to home. Perhaps Aegon, or one of your cousins in the Vale.

If you married at all, of course. Your father had gone through a phase of encouraging your faith in the Seven, in the hopes of you deciding to be a Septa. If you did, the King would be most pleased, for it would mean you would never suffer the same fate as your mother.

You wanted neither. What you wanted more than anything was to see the world, do the things Rhaenyra told you happened outside the Red Keep. And according to you, it would all get started if you got your own dragon.

With a dragon, you would be protected. Your father always used your lack of one as an argument for denying you the experiences ladies your age had. Your egg had not hatched, but if you claimed one, you would surely be allowed to leave.

Unfortunately, what was required to be able to bond with a dragon had been deemed too dangerous for you. King Viserys had banned you from the dragon pit, arguing that dragons could be unpredictable.

Today, you had been sent back to your tower due to an impromptu visit from your Uncle Daemon. You knew the man by reputation only, by how much he angered your father. If there was one person who you were prohibited from speaking to, it was him.

You had heard the rumors, of course. A few years back, after your mother's passing, he had taken Rhaenyra to a pleasure house. Whatever had happened inside was between her and him. To your father, though, it was enough to keep you away from him.

Smile. Square your shoulders. Try again to assert yourself. You eyed your reflection once again, wondering how you could convince the King to let you try to get a dragon. Outside, something scraped against a rock, again and again. Curious, you went to the window.

On the very base of your tower, there was a man hopelessly attempting to climb upwards. He was very dashing, sporting the same silver hair you did, only much shorter.

“Who are you?” You asked, slightly frightened. In truth, you were not used to strangers being so close to you. Your father always said men were dangerous, and that outside the Red Keep there were aberrant creatures, mean and ruthless, that hurt young maidens for their enjoyment. “Step away from my tower, or I shall call my guards!”

The man ignored you, choosing instead to stab a sword between the rocks that made up your tower. You screamed, alarmed.

“Stop that! That's not allowed, you are damaging my tower.”

The man ignored you, trying to use his sword to climb. He grunted in exertion. You ran towards your chambers and filled a jar with water. Then, you ran back to your window and dumped it on his head.

The man shrieked and fell down the few meters he had managed to progress. You laughed, startled.

“Aren't you a fearsome thing?” He muttered to himself. Then, he looked up at you, with the most purple eyes you had ever seen. “Please, Princess. Help me out.”

“Why should I? You are an intruder.” You glared down at him, not even entertaining the notion, but deciding to play along regardless. In truth, you were curious about him. And starved for companionship.

“I am being chased.” He screamed up at you, frantically looking behind him. “Please, help me.”

You leaned down towards your window, bracing your arms on the edge of it.

“Bad business, that.” Your voice was cheery and woefully uninterested. This was the most exciting that had happened to you in years, you were not about to stop it. But at the same time, you did remember all of your father's warnings. There were people out there that were not kind.

“Damn it, you are just like Aemma. Pair of cynics.” He cursed, and started to try to retrieve his sword. Your eyebrows raised.

“You knew my mother?”

The man looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He squinted at you. His bone structure reminded you of someone.

“I did.”

Your mother. A cynic. You smiled. No one had ever told you about her, not beyond all those polite things everyone said about the dead. How kind she was, how beautiful and learned. It did nothing to make you feel closer to her, these empty platitudes. They were generic, they could be talking about any woman.

Your father never went beyond that, either. The Aemma he talked about was an idolized version of her, a woman frozen into a perfect state of likeness to the Mother. He didn't allow anyone to contradict him, not even Rhaenyra. When you were younger, she had told you your mother had been hesitant about having another pregnancy, and struggling to carry another baby to term. Your father had banned her from visiting you during the next six moons.

But this stranger was speaking of her as if he knew her well. Your heart ached to know more about your mother, know the real her. It was enough to help you make your choice. You gathered your hair and threw it down the window.

“Come up then.” You ordered.

The man looked at the mass of hair in bewilderment. He touched a strand of it, fascinated by the way it picked up the light. He did not move.

“Use it as rope. You won't hurt me.” Were all men so dumb? Surely, if this one was so slow, he could not be a threat.

“Of course. Magic hair. Fucking Viserys.” The man started to climb. He got quickly inside, panting with exertion.

“You know my father, too?” Your body tensed. This, you did not like. What if he was one of the men that were supposed to visit the castle today? One of those who corrupted and hurt young maidens?

Your heart started to beat harder and harder. You tried to convince yourself he might not be a bad man. Perhaps, he had met the King through your mother. Regardless, you turned away from him, keeping your voice and posture deceivingly calm.

“Would you like some water?” You did not wait for an answer, starting to move towards the kitchen. You reached into a cabinet, as if searching for a cup.

The man followed. You could hear his footsteps on the stone floor.

“I do know your father.” His voice was strange. As if he were realizing he was making a mistake but couldn't pinpoint why. Uninterested, you took out a cup. “He is a great King.” He added, hurriedly. Just in time for you to grab a pan, turn and smack it against his head as hard as you could.

The man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You hiked up your skirts and rushed to his side. Kneeling by him, you took a closer look at his sword and grinned. You had seen it before. In your books. That was Dark Sister, Visenya's sword.

You had caught Daemon Targaryen. What better proof to show your father that you were not helpless? You tied him to a chair and gagged him for good measure. Then, you pushed him inside your bathing quarters. Only then did you call for a guard.

“Could you summon my father? I need him.” The guard bowed, but didn't speak. Most of them didn't. Your father said they weren't allowed to.

Despite not receiving an answer, you knew your father would be here soon. He always came when you called. You placed a kettle in the fire. Before it could boil, King Viserys was already there.

“Dear.” The King kissed your forehead. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the smell of herbs and milk of the poppy. Your father always smelled like a medicine cabinet. “As beautiful as your mother, like always.”

You smiled.

“Father. Tea is not ready yet, but sit.” You pointed to your small parlor. When you were a child, the two of you had used to pretend you were a great lady, hosting tea parties there. It had been how he had taught you courtly manners.

The memory was bittersweet. Your father was good to you. He had raised you as best as he could, loving you more fiercely than any of his other children. It was not your intention to upset him, but you knew this topic would do exactly that.

“Were you lonely, my heart?” The King settled on one of the loveseats. You sat across from him.

“I did miss you.” You gave him a coy little look. “But I asked you to come for something else.”

“Do tell.”

“Father. I think I am ready to claim a dragon.” You rushed to say, almost tripping over your words. Already, you could see how his expression was clouding over, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“You know you are not.” The King answered, sternly. “It's too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” You fought for your tone to remain even. If it came out too angered, your father would say you were hysteric or having a tantrum, and refuse to take you seriously. So was the curse of being a woman.

“My heart, you have never stepped out of this tower.”

And you had not. But what did dragons care about one's knowledge of the world? You had read about dragons bonding with babes, sharing their cradle with them. To claim one, being well traveled or wise was not required. One had to be chosen, that was all.

You raised your hands in the air, palms up, as if placating a beast.

“I don't want you to get upset, Father. I wanted to prove to you that I am capable, too.” You got up and opened the door to your bathing quarters. “Do not be scared.”

The bound Daemon was still gagged, inside the tub. This time, though, he was awake. Upon seeing his brother, he immediately started screeching and squirming, making up a ruckus.

“Shh.” You said to him, kicking the tub a little. He was turning out to be a very annoying guest. “As you can see, Father, I caught him.”

“And you put him in the tub.” The King said, perplexed.

“He was dripping water all over my floors.” But your explanations fall on deaf ears, since your father has already moved on from his shock. He grabbed Daemon's shirt, forcing him to sit upright.

“Haven't I told you this tower is out of limits?” The King barked at him. “I will throw you into the deepest, more dark and humid dungeon I can find, and then I will…”

“Father.” You did not like being ignored. Daemon was a secondary concern, you just wanted to know if you were allowed out now.

Yet, your father seems to think the issue was an entirely different thing.

“Oh. Sorry, dear. What father meant is that Uncle Daemon has been very bad.” He gave him a shake for good measure.

“I can tell.” Your tone was flat. “Have I proven myself enough to be allowed to try to claim a dragon?”

The King let go of Daemon. He turned towards you and tenderly started checking you over for injuries.

“I would die if something happened to you.” He answered, evasive. You didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was too dangerous. It was a no.

Five more long days went by. Poor you, having to stay all day in your tower. After Daemon, your father had now deemed it too dangerous to allow you to roam the Red Keep. It was the tower and nothing more. All you could do was sing Old Valyrian songs and look out the windows. Sometimes, birds would chirp from above, and you would feel slightly better, as if they were singing with you.

Perhaps it had been your song, what had led him to you. Perhaps it had been his own guilty consciousness for a sin long forgotten, or a sliver of empathy for the lonely girl in the tower up above. Whatever it was, before the sixth day came to an end, Daemon appeared under your window.

“Princess, Princess, let your hair down.” You heard him say. You walked to your window, curiously. Daemon was back!

“Come down if you want to be free.” The Prince ordered. “I do not have much time.”

His words stilled you. Freedom. Your father often said freedom was a dangerous thing. If you let people make their own choices, it was much more likely that they would choose unwisely. That was why you were kept in the tower, safe from the world and bad decisions. As long as King Viserys controlled your life, you would be protected.

But what if you left? What if you ran, jumped out of your tower and made your way to Dragonstone to get your dragon? You imagined a version of yourself, dress fluttering in the wind like a flag as you ran, barefooted in the sand. You imagined yourself feeling the sun in your face, having your first cup of mead or watching a parade.

Then you imagined yourself tripping and falling into the sea. You didn't know how to swim. No one saw the need to teach you such a thing. You imagined yourself at the parade, getting robbed. You imagined a man, trying to hurt you. What if people out there, what if Daemon, were truly as wretched as your father said they were?

Your face must have shown your distress because Daemon, impatient, shouted something more.

“I won't hurt you.” The Prince raised his hands in surrender. “I will not tell you I am a good man, but I will take you to Dragonstone.”

His honesty was what sealed the deal. You threw your hair down, grabbed one of your warmest cloaks, and shouted for him to loop your hair around a branch and not let go.

Daemon obeyed. You jumped, and as your feet hit the floor, you wished to be able to say you didn't look back. But you did. And as you saw the silhouette of your tower getting smaller and smaller in the distance, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness deep in your chest.

Noticing how quiet you have gotten, Daemon adjusts your cloak and gives you a grin.

“Do you want to ride Caraxes?” He asks. You match his grin, sadness nearly forgotten. There is a whole world out here, begging to be explored. You can be sad later when the adventure ends.

Caraxes is the most bewitching creature you have ever seen. He is red and serpentine, looking so much like the drawings of dragons you used to do as a child. You nearly scream in excitement.

Daemon whispers to him to stay calm, but Caraxes seems to sense your happiness, for he keeps trying to correspond your loving pets.

“Oh, by the Seven Hells.” The Prince pushes you towards the saddle. “If neither of you stop the tail wagging, we are going to get caught.”

“And we don't want that.” You agree, kissing Caraxes' scales one last time.

Caraxes gives another excited, full-body wag. He seems to be preening under the attention. Daemon must not praise him very much, which is a shame.

“You are such a good boy. So pretty, too.”

Caraxes preens even more. It makes his body shake, tail hitting against the floor in an ominous beat. Daemon groans.

“Enough, enough.” The Prince grabs you by the waist and gets you up in the saddle. You shriek in laughter. Caraxes appears to be happy about it, too, since he starts spreading his wings. “We are going to get caught.”

Daemon jumps into the saddle, hugging you tightly to him. You squirm, unused to the closeness of another human being. When your father and Rhaenyra touch you, it's never like this.

Daemon feels overwhelming, in the best kind of way. His chest is firm, and his smell surrounds you. His arms around your waist hold you tight, but remain loose enough to not hurt you. Your hips fit snugly against his, and make something you can't yet name stir in your lower belly.

It's different. It's strange. You want it to stop. Why do you feel so nervous, as if Caraxes was suddenly dropping down and not barely getting ready to fly?

“Soves, Caraxes.” Daemon orders, careful not to scream in your ear. “Are you alright, little Princess?”

You cease your squirming, hoping that he doesn't notice whatever is different with you.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“You keep squirming as if there were ants inside your bodice. Are you uncomfortable?” The Prince snickers by your ear, pressing a soft kiss right by the top of it. What happens next is impossible to hide. Your body gives a shiver, all of your hairs standing up. The sensation is as confusing as it is pleasant.

“My stomach feels funny.” You complain, knowing that it isn't exactly that, but close enough that he probably won't question it.

“Funny how?” Daemon kisses behind your ear. You make a hurt, confused noise. You have been kissed before, but never there. In your experience, kisses are not this devastating.

“Funny.” You refuse to elaborate because while naive, you are not dumb. This must be precisely why your father wanted you away from men. If they were able to inflict so much pleasure, it was no wonder why maidens let them do whatever they wanted to them.

“Does it hurt, little Princess?” One of his palms goes to your lower stomach, pressing slightly. “Here?”

You squirm. So he definitely knows.

“Yes.”

“Hurts? Or…?” Daemon's hand goes dangerously low, nearly pressing between the parting of your legs. You squirm more. He brushes something that makes you jolt, delighted.

“We shouldn't.” You answer. It would be much more convincing if you were not relaxing into him. He laughs right in your ear, but retracts his hand.

Even with his hands away from your most sensitive areas, you still feel worked up. Your bodice is too rough against your skin, the way Caraxes moves under both of you makes the area between your legs tingle.

You keep your eyes firmly on the sky in front of you. As it starts to change into pinks and yellows, the feeling ebbs and starts to fade. You feel sleepy, so you recline more against Daemon. A tiny yawn escapes you.

“Tired?” Daemon brushes your hair back, much more tenderly than your father would. With your father, the touch is always harsher, more possessive. As if he is always grasping to the last threads of Aemma he can hold. With Daemon, it feels like he is actually touching you.

You hum, soft and sweet.

“Sleep, little one.” He kisses your cheek. “I'll wake you up when we get there.”

The next time you wake up, it is in an unknown bedroom. At first, you panic. The canopy over the bed looks too similar to the one in your tower, and you wonder if perhaps you dreamed it all. Daemon, Caraxes, the flight, your feelings. Then, you get even more scared because the more you look, the more you realize this is not your room.

You get out of bed. You are still dressed in the same dress you were wearing earlier, but your shoes are gone. The door is closed. Fear grips at you. What if Daemon has sold you to someone evil and rotten, as your father says people outside the Red Keep are? What if he is the evil man?

You rush to the door. It opens easily. There is a hallway that looks much like the ones in the Red Keep, but there is no one there. You scream in fear.

Another of the doors opens in the hallway. Daemon, in a sleeping shirt and breeches, runs out.

“Princess!” He hurries to your side. You are crying, you realize, as he wipes away some of your tears. “What is it?”

“I woke up alone, and I didn't recognize…” You sob, softly.

“Oh, little girl.” Daemon scoops you in his arms. “I should have thought of that. I am so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look at him, eyes swollen from your crying.

The world had impressed you during the day, but now that the night had fallen, and you found yourself in an unknown castle, you were afraid. What if there were monsters lurking in the hallways? Or if you needed something? What if someone hurt you?

“I do not want to go back there. I am scared.” You rubbed your eyes. Your hands dug into his arm, not wanting to let go of him.

“Do you wish me to keep you company while you fall back asleep?” Daemon asked, gently smoothing your hair down. You must look a mess, and would find it embarrassing were it not for the fact that being alone in such a big place terrifies you. At this point, you would do anything to keep him here.

“Please.” No more words are needed. Daemon doesn't want you to beg, nor does he want anything in exchange. It's comforting.

One of his hands goes to your shoulder blades, leading you back to the room. Daemon tucks you in and sits by your side.

“I'll stay until you fall asleep.” He says, smoothing down your frown with the gentlest touch. Daemon starts to hum in High Valyrian, softly. You know the melody. It's about flames and burning together. Almost against your will, your eyelids start to drop.

“Don't… Don't want you to go.” Your body feels so heavy, as if sinking into the mattress. With great effort, you manage to curl your fingers around one of his.

“Oh, Princess.” He says, interlacing your hands.

“Stay.” You order.

Daemon lets go of your hand, and you whine, awake instantly. You go to sit up, but he shushes you.

“Shh. I am just… Let me.” He slides under the covers, behind you. You close your eyes, trying to relax against him. It's no hardship at all. Now that the candles have been blown, the light is low and Daemon feels so warm against you.

He starts to trace your features. Finger meets brow, temple, cheek. Thumb brushes nose, then lips. Idly, so very idly, his voice mutters near your ear.

“How many mouths has yours kissed?”

The question startles you. You suppose there is no harm in telling him, yet there is a tinge of embarrassment over it, too. It has finally dawned on you what this new, uncomfortable, thrilling feeling is. Desire. You lust after Daemon.

“I have…” You answer, softly. You do not dare speak it out loud. Not when you rather know exactly how far the two of you are. “How about you?”

“I have lost count. Twenty, perhaps more so.” Daemon says it so casually, as if it did not matter at all. But to you, it does. What are you, compared to this man? How could you want him in such a manner, having so little to offer?

“What makes it special, then?” There has to be a reason for him to bother with kissing all these people. Perhaps, to him, all kisses feel as devastating as his does to you.

“The person, I would gather.” The Prince answers, softly rubbing your back as one would do to help a child fall asleep. You frown. It does make sense. You know what love is, after all. Being in love with someone, or at least desiring them, must make it special.

You would like to kiss him, you think. Daemon is handsome, and his touch does not feel as damning as other's do. He has already provided you with pleasure, even if unknowingly.

You make a wish, then. For your first kiss to be special, with someone you like and that knows what they are doing. If not Daemon, at least someone like that.

“Was your first special?” You ask, curious.

“No. She was terrible. Sharp teeth and all.” Daemon moves your hair aside, exposing your neck. You barely get any warning before he is taking a bite out of your nape. For a playful gesture, it's oddly painful. Your body tenses, and you try to fight it, but Daemon's hands are like a vice around your waist. “Like this.”

With no other choice, you ride it out. Pain is nearly unfamiliar to you, beyond small cuts or painful cycles. It's scorching red and hot, making you break into a sweat. Daemon forces you to take, and take, gently holding your hands in his. It's only after that you go limp under him, twitching slightly, that he lets up.

The aftermath of pain is sweet, you learn. Daemon kisses around the painful bite and blows a raspberry behind your ear. Now that he has let go of your nape, you find out that the pain was not so bad. You are not even bleeding.

“You are such a good girl.” Daemon praises. “So strong. I'm so proud of you.”

You preen as if you were Caraxes, delighted to make him feel proud of you. Daemon smiles against your temple, as if amused by you, and presses a little kiss there. It’s so tender, and so loving, a sharp contrast to his earlier behavior. It makes you feel as if you were once again on dragonback.

“Could you kiss me?” The words escape out of your mouth, without any real thinking. You know they are the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave your mouth.

Daemon pulls away from you. A hurt, confused noise leaves your throat, hands desperately searching back for his warmth.

“Oh, little Princess.” Daemon mutters, tone full of regrets. “I should not.”

“Why not?” You complain. You are not used to being denied so. The only times others do not bend to your will, you get what you want by your own means. Case in point, leaving your tower. Your father had said no, so you had ensured it happened by other means.

“I have done…. What I have done to you, why I took you…” Suddenly, it is as if an icy hand has taken hold of your throat and started to suffocate you. Betrayal settles over your features, overpowering it all.

“You are only doing this to piss off my father.” You say, shocked. Daemon raises his hands, trying to interrupt you, but you halt him with an imperious wave. “You had no intention of taking me to the dragons. You sought to ruin my reputation, as you did Rhaenyra's.”

“No, Princess, no.” Daemon shakes his head. You get up from the bed, angered. He does not try to stop you. “I swear I didn't mean for anything untoward to happen.”

“I bet you said that back then, too.” You retort. You have half a mind to do something crazy. To grab the fire poker and smash his head with it, to set the whole place on fire. You want to make him hurt.

“I… I did mean to anger your father.” Daemon admits, still trying to placate you. It only makes you wish to scream and scream and never stop. “But I do think it is a shame not to let you even try. Dragons are your birthright. Denying you is unnatural.”

You glare at him. You are unconvinced of the truthfulness of his words. Your father was right. You were unprepared for the world, and it couldn't show more. Daemon has tricked you as easily as if he were taking candy from a babe.

“I'll take you there regardless. I promised to.” His eyes are pleading, but you do not wish to hear him, or see him any longer. Instead, you sit in front of the vanity and look at yourself.

The long, silver hair. The scared eyes. The night, the first you have of freedom, is spent utterly cold and miserable. You stare at yourself and stare at yourself until you think you are going mad.

Daemon does not say a word. He doesn't leave the room, either. Perhaps he falls asleep at some point, perhaps he does not.

You look at your reflection again. You look at your hair. Silver, like his. The lovely color Daemon loves so much. Long, and braided back, flaunting your maidenhood and youth. Forever your father's little girl, never allowed to grow, to love, to lust.

A braid that long won't allow you to claim a dragon. You are more likely to set yourself on fire or trip on it. It's that thought that gives you the determination needed to do what needs to be done.

In the first drawer of the vanity there are a few miscellaneous ribbons. There is also a pair of scissors. You grab it, and grab your braid. You chop it off. As it falls from your shoulder, you feel a weight lift off from you. No longer your nape is heavy with the weight of all these expectations laying on you.

There is a woman staring at you, from the mirror. She looks like she is getting ready for war, eyes alight with determination. You stare at the contours of her face, mesmerized by what you see. All traces of Aemmas's ghost are gone from your reflection. You look more like yourself than you have ever done.

Daemon is up at sunrise. He may have been watching you chop all your hair off and expose the lovely bite mark that now mars the skin of your nape. He may have been sleeping. Whatever it is, he doesn't say a word about your change of appearance, choosing instead to dress in silence.

“Off we go.” He says, briskly, leading you out of the castle. Daemon points to a hill in the distance. “But after that, you are on your own.”

You are suddenly filled with doubt, the determination you had felt when looking in the mirror dissipating under the morning light. Your stomach clenches. Your legs are sore, unused to the exercise of riding. The bite on your neck burns.

"I do not feel ready to claim a dragon.” You say to him, as you get closer and closer to the hill. You feel like a fool. What if your father is right? What if you end this escapade with nothing to show but a ruined reputation?

“You are.” Daemon answers, barely paying attention. It makes you angry beyond belief. To make your mood known, you stomp over a few leaves, grinding them to dust under your heel. Ugh. Why were you looking to him for reassurance in the first place? It was not like Daemon wanted to help you. He just wanted to make himself feel less guilty over trying to cause a scandal and kill your father from the fright.

“I am not.” It’s almost as if you can hear the voice of your father in your head, telling you exactly why no dragon would bond with you. You are a fool, you are a little girl, you…

“You are a Targaryen.” Daemon interrupts your trail of thought with a squeeze to your nape. Right over the bite. It makes your knees nearly buckle. “You were born ready.”

“But what if it isn't enough? What if they see me, and don't want me? I am not brave, like Rhaenyra, or cunning like you or learned like my father. ”

“They will.” Daemon says. “Because you are strong here.” He taps your sternum. “And your father is a fool for not seeing it.”

You look at him. Past the guilt, past the acting up to get your father's attention. His eyes are nervous, but they hold the same steely determination yours had earlier. Daemon believes in you, you realize. You look up at the hill and think to yourself, it is time to see if you can claim a second dragon.

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

Sophia Loren (Marriage Italian Style, Houseboat)—Major Italian star, first actress to win an Oscar for a performance not in English (for Two Women (1960)) and later when Roberto Benigni won an Oscar in 1999 he jumped over the chairs towards the stage going "Sophia Sophia!!" because he was running towards Sophia Loren and said he cared more about her than the Oscar, that's the effect she had on people. She was big in the 60s already even though she gained a lot more notoriety after that. And I mean. Can we take a moment and just.

This is round 6 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.]

Sophia Loren:

She has maxed out all her stats: beauty, elegance, sensuality, she's got it all. her mesmerizing eyes, her sensual mouth, her sharp face shape, her everything is so striking and unlike any other beauty in films. she was also voted the world most beautiful woman when she was freaking 65

im submitting her in honor of my dad bc she was the first celebrity crush of his he ever admitted to me and my sister :) and he was right. shes so pretty

OSCAR WINNER. Worked with some of the hottest leading men in Hollywood but remained faithful to her husband whom she had a loving marriage with till he died (even though Cary Grant almost tempted her once, it's complicated)

One of the most well-known sex symbols of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and unlike some unfortunate others, she seems to have been pretty well at peace with occupying that status. She made assertiveness and a tempestuous temper seem glamorous, and although she's famous for side-eying Jayne Manisfield's cleavage, honestly? She's one to talk.

Absolutely, drop-dead sexy, also a hard working, extraordinarily talented actress who didn't shy away from the less glamorous roles to gift us some gritty, memorable performances

Submitting this on behalf of my dad, who knows nothing of tumblr or this blog, but I remember being a kid watching Houseboat while my mom thirsted after Cary Grant, dad thirsted after Sophia Loren, and I was excited that they lived on a boat. Anyway, she's extremely beautiful and was an international star, doing a ton of movies in Italy before being recognized in the US.

JUST LOOK AT HER Y'ALL

Very smart and beautiful, the characters that she played (I mean those in the movies that I put in the previous question) are as strong and determined as her which I think adds to her hotness.

Global superstar and my late grandfather's long time movie star crush and for a man as quiet as he was, and as hopelessly devoted to his wife as he was, the fact that I know that means she was EXCEPTIONAL.

Big in the chest, snatched in the waist, pretty in the face 😳

Sexy, beautiful, deep. A real star.

Her performance in "Man of La Mancha" is just so very captivating. Dubbed as "the Italian Marilyn Monroe", she looks beautiful in any movie and at any age.

Forget the exotic sexpot of her Hollywood films and go back to her Italian career: sparking with Marcello Mastroianni as the woman who drives him mad and outwits all his fumbling attempts at macho posturing in their early films, and showing a tender side in their 1970s films. Sophia isn’t self-conscious about who she is or her beautiful body: she enjoys being herself and she wants us all to enjoy ourselves too.

She starred in films as a sexually emancipated persona and was one of the best known sex symbols of the time. She is a great cook and her filmography is immense.

On the misattributed quote that Sophia owed everything to spaghetti: 'Did you actually say the quote frequently attributed to you, "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti"?' "Non è vero! It's not true! It's such a silly thing. I owe it to spaghetti, no, no. Completely made up."

Marlene Dietrich:

ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face

its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender

youtube

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

youtube

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

#sophia loren #marlene dietrich #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6 #Youtube

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queers-gambit · 2 years ago

Text

Not So Heavenly Surprise

prompt: you share exciting news with your husband but don't receive the reaction you thought you'd get. and then, the Outbreak.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 7.2k+

warnings: angst, angst, angst, slutty angst club, cursing, character death, major major major spoilers, death of a child, descriptive language - we talk about death and dead bodies!!! canon-level violence! NOT edited!!! (will get around to it) this work is super NOT FOR MINORS ❗️season one, episode one spoilers

September 02nd, 2002 one year before Outbreak Day

"You're going to have to tell him," you sighed to your reflection, trying to amp up the bravery. "He's gonna notice, you don't want him questioning anything, now do you? No, nope, no way, you don't. Okay, so, that's it - you're gonna tell him when he gets home. No big deal."

There was a knock at the door, Sarah calling, "Are you okay in there?"

"Girl!" You laughed, reaching for the knob and opening it to see her. "Ever heard of this thing called 'privacy'?"

"Not in this house," She smirked. "Can I get in? Wash my face?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," you moved out of her way, continuing with your nightly routine.

"So, who were you talking to?"

"Myself," you mused. "It helps me work out big decisions."

"Oh, so, you're finally gonna tell Dad you're pregnant?"

"What!?" You yelped, dropping the jar of night cream and groaning when it dolloped out from the fall - landing on your foot. "What the hell, Sarah?"

"What? You're surprised I figured it out?" She teased. "I found the pregnancy test."

"What? You were digging in the trash?"

"Well, if you must know, I dropped the toothpaste in there and found it when I was fishing it out..."

"Sarah," you sighed.

"You know he's going to be really happy, right?" She smiled at you, massaging her cheeks to curate foam from her face wash.

"Maybe," you sighed, stooping to clean your mess. "But I've been trying to figure out what to say."

"What's to say? Just tell him," she giggled. "C'mon, you guys have been married 8 years now! Isn't this, like, what was supposed to happen?"

"Well, yeah, but - "

"But nothing," Sarah laughed. "You're getting all nervous for nothing. It's just Dad, he loves you. He's going to be happy, I promise."

You sighed, nodding slowly, "All right, well, I'll try to tell him tonight."

"There is no try, only do."

"You did not just quote Star Wars to me!"

"Well, is Yoda wrong?"

You whined a little, "No..."

"So, get it done," she smiled. "This is really exciting."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "I've always wanted to be a big sister."

"You'd kick ass as one," you agreed.

"Think how upset and flustered Dad will be when I teach Baby to curse!"

"Sarah, you teach the kid any curse words and I'll wash your own mouth with soap," you teasingly warned with a pointed finger. "I'm a little nervous, I think," you admitted.

"Why? Daddy loves you, he'll be really happy," Sarah defended. "Maybe a little shocked, but he'll be over the moon with joy."

"You think?"

"I know," she nodded. "Tell him tonight!"

"Tell who, what?" Tommy asked, appearing in the doorway to make you both shriek.

"What happened!?" You heard Joel, but then, everything was drowned out as you and Sarah started yelling at Tommy for scaring the shit outta you both. Joel appeared in time to see his little brother throw his hands up in defense, laughing at the two of you.

"Not cool, man!" You barked, shaking your head. "Didn't hear y'all come in, the hell's wrong wit'chu?"

"Y'all didn't lock the front door, again," Tommy smirked. "I came up real quick and quiet."

"Jackass," you muttered, wiping your hands on a towel before exiting the room. "Hi, baby," you muttered to Joel, pausing to rock onto your toes and plant a kiss to your husband's lips.

"Hi, honey," he mused, arm anchoring your waist. "What's with the screamin'?"

"Your brother's an ass," you pouted, giving your best exaggerated bottom lip.

"You had it comin', darlin'," Tommy teased. "Told you to lock up, huh?"

"Why're you even here? Why are you always! Here!?" You whined lightly. "Go home!"

"I'm staying the night," he mocked gently.

"You better not clean my fridge out," you warned him with slitted eyes. "I just went to the shop."

"You get them cookies you like?" Tommy perked a brother, watching your eyes widen a small fraction. "YOU DID!" Tommy laughed, turning, and bolting down the stairs - making you yelp and start yelling after him, following closely.

Joel and Sarah could be heard laughing from upstairs.

It was close to midnight by the time you and Joel finally settled for bed. Sarah's homework was done, whole family fed, Tommy was nursing a bonked head with a small ice pack, and you and Joel were turning your bed down.

"Hey, uh," you cleared your throat as you both got in the sheets, "so, I was wonderin' somethin'."

"What's that, sugar?"

"What do you think of when you consider the future?"

Joel paused, then shrugged, "We go to Nashville with Sarah this summer."

"No, baby, I mean the future - like, years from now."

Joel chuckled, "Uh, I don't know, baby, I just think of you and Sarah and Tommy... There's not many others left 'round."

"That's all?"

"I don't know, I think sometimes when Sarah goes off to college, that girl's goin' on a scholarship, you know? So, you and I could maybe take some time for a vacation. Finally take you on that honeymoon I promised."

You hummed, settling against his chest, "Where we goin'?"

"You know I'd take you wherever you wanted," he sighed, "but maybe we could afford... I don't know, trip to... Vegas?"

"So we can renew our vows with Elvis?"

"Why not?" He chuckled, squeezing your hip. "Might be fun, right?"

"You just wanna see the strippers."

"Can you blame me?"

You laughed and smacked his chest, "Easy, mister, you're on thin ice."

Joel laughed lightly, "You know I'm teasin', darlin'. C'mon, anywhere we could, where would you go?"

"Oh, the Maldives, without a doubt.," You smirked. "But how about we keep it simple? Go to, say, Paris?"

Joel snickered, "That's simple?"

"City of Love for our honeymoon? Baby, I'd say that's more cliché than anything. Besides, don't you wanna kiss me at the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

"'Course, sugar, but the food there?"

"Oh, like you've ever been!" You laughed, looking up at him. "Don't talk shit when you don't know."

"Hmm," he considered, "solid advice, sweetheart."

He reached out to caress the side of your cheek, making you sigh, "One thing's missin' though..."

"What's that?" Joel smirked.

"We'd have to find a babysitter."

"Sarah will be older than - "

"No, no, baby, not talkin' 'bout Sarah."

"Who, then?" He chuckled. "Tommy? Though he likes proving us wrong, he can take care of himself."

"No, I'm talking about a babysitter for us."

"Lost me again, sweetheart."

You stared at him for a moment, then admitted, "I'm pregnant. So, we'd need to find a sitter 'cause we'd have a little one by then." However, Joel just stared down at you, brows slowly furrowing as he processed your words. "Joel?" You wondered when he didn't answer, but instead, looked off past you. "Honey, you still with me?"

"I heard you," he grit, making you instantly sit up and off of him.

"Joel?"

He sighed deeply, "Why'd you have to do that?"

"I'm sorry?"

Joel sat up and swung his legs from bed, making you feel instantly smaller than you actually were. "Why'd you have to go and do that? Huh? Get pregnant?"

"Joel - "

"No, what the hell's this!?" He demanded, looking far too upset than you ever considered. "You're pregnant? You're really pregnant?"

"Yes - "

"God fuckin' damn it!" Joel swatted at a lamp, knocking it over, and waking the entire house - not that either Tommy or Sarah were asleep yet. "You can't seriously be pregnant!" Joel barked at you, and if he could, you knew he'd be gnashing his teeth.

"Why is this such a shock?" You asked. "This is what happens when you're married - "

"You were supposed to be on birth control!"

"It's only so much effective when you're cumming in me like some sex doll!" You snapped back, aware of your loudness.

"Don't turn this on me!"

"I'm not! Fuck's sake, I'm happy about this!" You stood from the bed, too. "I'm happy we're havin' a baby! Why're you reacting this way?"

"We can't afford a baby right now!" Joel looked enraged now. "We don't got the space - fuckin' Tommy crashes the couch! Where we puttin' a whole baby, huh? Where we puttin' a kid? How're we gonna afford more groceries? More schoolin'? You didn't think this through, now, did you!?"

"Fuck's sake, Joel, do I need to give you a sex-ed course? Explain how you're just as much in this as I am? I didn't do this to myself, we both took risks - but I didn't think this was gonna be an issue! I thought you'd want this!"

"When have I ever said I wanted another kid? Huh? Don't put words in my mouth, woman! I got Sarah, ain't no kid better than that! Why would I even want to bother? Knowing our situation!? You think you're ready to be a mom? All you do is work, and it makes you a pretty shaky stepmother! Neither of us are in a place to just stop and take care of a kid, we're in too deep with our current bills!"

You felt too stunned to speak, every defense you had lowering in pure sadness as tears collected in your eyes. "You serious, right now?"

"Completely," he sighed, hands to his hips.

"So, you... You don't want this baby?"

Joel's jaw flexed. "Not right now, no."

"Okay," you sighed.

"I can't take care of another kid," he shook his head. "Look, why can't Sarah be enough? You've known her her whole life."

"Why is it so wrong to wonder what it's like to be pregnant? To have my own child? Since you have Sarah."

"We have Sarah," he snapped.

"No... We don't, since I'm only a shaky stepmother."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No? How'd you mean it?" You wondered sarcastically. "Maybe that I won't be a good mother? That you don't want a kid with me, is it? Whatever, Joel, look, there's no compromise here. You don't want this baby, but I do... So, this it is."

"What is? To what?"

"Us," you sighed, gesturing between you. "If you really don't want this baby, then I don't see how we can still participate in a marriage."

"The fuck - "

"I won't stay where I'm not wanted."

"I want you, just not the baby!"

"So, understand this. Because I'm growing that baby currently, you simply don't want me. So, it's all right, now. I'll get my shit and get out, figure out what to do movin' forward, and I'll have the divorce papers sent - "

"Like hell, you are!" Joel raged.

"How're we gonna fix this then!?"

"Fuckin' Christ, woman, you really know how to piss me off! This ain't my issue - this is your problem. But we ain't gettin' a divorce, so, you better figure it out."

You scoffed, "Who the hell even are you?"

"Come again?"

You gestured at him, "This is not who I married."

"Neither are you. When we got married, you said Sarah was more than enough - "

"You know what? Feelin's change!"

Joel scoffed, "Yeah, fuckin' tell me 'bout it."

"Wow," you sighed, turning for the closet, muttering, "wow, wow, wow, wow, WOW!"

"Fuck!" Joel snapped. "C'mon, doll, don't do this."

He watched you pack a suitcase frantically, the fight continuing to wage farther into the night. Back and forth, you two went round after round after round, trying to make the other understand and see reason. To Joel, it was a matter of financials and space. To you? It was everything else.

By 3 am, you had finally packed your necessary belongings into two bags - a suitcase and purse - before you were charging down the stairs with Joel still hollering after you. Tommy was in the living room, pacing, and Sarah was laid on the couch, eyes red and swollen as she clutched a pillow to her chest. You came to a halt when you saw them both, Joel still sneering but silencing himself when he saw what you stared at.

Just like that, he understood his brother and daughter had heard every word he shouted at you, and never had he felt such shame. You swallowed harshly, nodding at Tommy before looking to Sarah. With a wobbling smile, you managed to garble, "I'm sorry."

"Mama, wait!" Sarah gasped, shooting off the couch as you fled for the front door; Tommy catching her around her waist. "No! No! Daddy, go get her! Don't go! Mama! Please! What's happening? Why won't you go after her!?"

But to Tommy's shock and horror, Joel silently descended the stairs to push the front door closed and locked it - bolting them inside and his wife outside. "Joel," Tommy shook his head, confusing marring his features. "The hell happened?"

But Joel only sighed, turned, and headed up the stairs again. Not a moment later, his bedroom door closed - making Tommy release Sarah. She rushed to the door but stopped, only staring out, and Tommy understood she could no longer see your car.

"Hey, Sarah?" Tommy called softly. "You can stay home from school tomorrow. All right?"

She only nodded silently, taking a seat at the front door and just watching. He frowned, wanting to shoo her off to bed, but understood that her child-like mind could only understand so much. She wanted to wait for you to come home, she wanted to see you coming... However, the following morning, Joel found his daughter slumped against the front door and his brother on the stairs from watching her.

His heart had plummeted to his feet when he saw them, more so when he understood you weren't home. The house already felt colder.

September 26th, 2003 Outbreak Day

Your daughter was barely a few months old by the time "it" happened. After leaving Joel, you went home to your parents and they were gracious enough to welcome you and the babe growing in your womb.

They made up your childhood bedroom into a nursery and let you transform their home office into a spare bedroom as your little brother was living in the guest room and older sister in the basement. It was an incredibly tiny room, but it worked for now; and your little girl was a ray of sunshine that you barely noticed how miserable you truly felt.

You hadn't seen Joel since the birth... And before that? Not since your fight. He really didn't want shit to do with your daughter, and while you always told him when your appointments were, he never showed. When you went into labor, your father was the one who called him because you only sobbed through the pain that you wanted your husband. So, Joel showed that day, but didn't go into the delivery room. He just waited outside it, listening, feeling his heart shatter again and again as you begged someone to find your husband, but no matter how your mother and father begged him to go in, he wouldn't. He couldn't.

It was only after the baby was born did he venture in.

You looked beat to hell and the sheets seemed bloodier than usual, but he didn't want to linger. He only nodded at you, hands in his pockets, "Good job... She's real beautiful."

You blinked, glancing over to where a nurse was swaddling the just-cleaned baby. "Thank you," you whispered. Then, he turned to leave, "W-Wait!" You begged, making him pause. "Don't you... I-I don't know, want to help name her?"

Joel sighed, glancing at you over his shoulder, "No, 's all right. Whatever you want, she's your daughter."

Your heart broke all over again, watching him leave. So much so, when the nurse brought your daughter over for you to hold, you broke down in horrendous sobs that the nurse actually shied away. You couldn't breathe from the pain, and it actually set off a few alarms on your hospital monitors.

Your mother watched in despair as a team of professionals had to sedate you in order to calm you down enough; holding her grandbaby and rocking her arms. She waited for days, hoping you'd ask to hold your daughter, but never did. Only when the lactation expert came in to help you nurse your daughter did you actually "willingly" hold her.

It just broke your heart to even look at her because she looked so much like Joel that it should've been illegal. Eventually, you came around and felt as if you couldn't set the baby down, but for the first few days were exhaustingly tough. Your parents were a huge help, but that didn't make it easier on you to try and process life without Joel. You loved your husband, wanted him back, but after his behavior, you couldn't fathom being within 6 feet of him again.

However, life had much different plans.

You didn't feed your baby formula, opting for breast feeding. Ironically, during your pregnancy, you had developed an intolerance to gluten and never wanted flour-products even after giving brith to your daughter. However, your father loved your mother's cookies...

It was nearly 2 am when it happened.

Your father had been the first "Infected" of the family, and only your mother was in their room with him. You heard the thumping and screams, peering out of your room only to see blood pooling from under your parent's closed bedroom door. "Get back," you hissed at your little brother, darting down the hall to your daughter's nursery.

"DADDY! NO!" You heard your brother scream a minute later, panic enveloping you as your daughter started to cry.

"No, no, no, it's okay, hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart," you whispered, trying to shush her. There wasn't time to spare, and just as you secured your daughter to your chest with tight arms and made it from her room, your father came barreling out of your little brother's room - scaring the shit outta you. "D-Daddy?"

He snarled, neck snapping when he looked at you - but that wasn't your father. No, this creature was something else and while it was in your father's body, it wasn't your Daddy, and you weren't safe here.

"Down here! NOW!" Katie, your older sister called, making you shoot off down the stairs in a blind panic. Your father came crashing down behind you, knocking into your legs as you reached the bottom - forcing you to turn over and land on your back to protect your kid.

"OH MY GOD!" You screamed when your father bolted upright.

"STAY DOWN!"

Your sister swung her softball bat, knocking your father's head back with a sickly snap. He went down, and for a moment, it was all quiet. "What the fuck?" You panted, baby still crying.

"I don't know," Katie panted, reaching for your arms and helping you up. "I-I didn't - I didn't think," she stuttered, looking at your father, who's head was split open and spewing blood. "I-I killed him."

"Between us?" You nodded, "Think he was already dead."

"Where's Mommy? And Billy!?"

"Upstairs..."

"You don't think...?"

"Should we check?"

"What if they're alive and we just left them?" She worried, blinking back tears. "I-I don't know what to do."

"I think we need to get the fuck outta here," you admitted, looking around you two. "We aren't safe here, Katie, we should move."

Just then, there was a thud from upstairs. Your sister uttered your name in fear, and you had to steel yourself. "What do we do?" She whispered.

"Kitchen, there's only one door and the basement," you nodded, the two of you turning and hustling into the room. You looked around and found a long cerated knife, standing at the ready with one arm around your baby.

"What's gonna come for us?"

"Whatever the hell happened to Daddy," you gulped. "I still think we should run for it."

"But Mama - "

"She's probably dead!" You snapped. "But we aren't. We don't have to die if we play smart. I say, we get what we need and get the fuck out of here."

However, before she could answer, there was a snarling from outside the door. Your baby still cried, and soon, the door was bursting open with your mother's Infected body being hurled through the door. Your sister begged your name in a yell and you repeated at her that it's not really your mother - keeping the kitchen island between you three - and that she needed to swing the bat.

However, your little brother came barreling inside right after and knocked into you. It was a struggle as you had to let go of your baby to keep the 10-year-old demon off your body; hip teeth gnashing as pale tendrils came curling out of his mouth.

"NO!"

You couldn't look back at your sister, struggling to keep the suspiciously-strong boy at bay. You used your feet to kick him off you, snatch up the knife, and as he came back - snarling and screaming - you only stabbed the knife up into the underside of his jaw. Yanking free, blood and more came gushing out, and your brother when down.

When you turned, your sister was panting and leaning against a counter. Mother laid dead at her feet. "You good?" You asked.

"Yeah... You?"

"Yeah," you sniffled, moving to collect your baby from the bloody linoleum floor. "Can we get the fuck outta here now?"

"There's no more threat."

"Seriously?" You snapped. "Honey, if it happened here, it's happenin' elsewhere and we need to fucking move before we get left behind. Understand me?"

But then... There was a sickening sound from the only other door in the kitchen... The one leading to the basement...

"Katie?" You called your sister's name, "it's time to run."

"GO!" She screamed when a new body, that of your next door neighbor, came bursting through the door. You both ran, your daughter tight to your chest, and just made it outside your family home when a truck was screeching to a halt.

Joel leapt from the passenger seat, hollering your name in panic, and making you shoot off like a Roman Candle towards him. He caught you easily, holding you and your infant close to his chest as Katie came sprinting from behind you - taking cover behind Joel.

"What - "

"JOEL!" Katie screamed, pointing towards the body rushing from your home.

"Tommy!"

There came a gunshot, making you flinch into his chest as he turned you from the sight. "Get in the truck," Tommy called, Sarah opening the door from the inside to invite Katie in.

"We gotta go, darlin', it's time to go, let's go," Joel muttered to you.

"What the fuck is happenin'?"

"We don't know, but it's bad," he nodded, looking around frantically. "We need off the streets, baby, please, get in the truck."

But you paused, asking him, "You came back for me?"

"For the both of you," he sighed, caressing the top of your daughter's head - who still wailed in fear. "Please, baby, it's time to go - get in the truck." When you did, he rambled, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, all right, Tommy! Let's go!"

When everyone was in and doors shut, a new game began: Get the Hell Outta Dodge.

During the ride, Tommy and Joel filled you and Katie in with what they knew from the broadcasters that were once on the airwaves. Sarah held onto you tightly, infant child still wriggling in your lap and arms. You were trying to flee the suburbs, making for the highway, but it seemed, everyone else who hadn't been killed off had the same idea and created intense traffic.

"We're okay," you whispered to Sarah on repeat, almost in a chant. Katie frowned and slowly reached over Sarah's lap, taking hold of your daughter. You slowly let go only to latch full onto Sarah and try to comfort her with slow rocking and cooed words of encouragement. Joel knew that in your time apart, you and Sarah saw each other often - nearly on a daily basis - and could understand that you were her mother, through-and-through.

You both needed the comfort right now.

Someone to lean on.

Someone to be scared with you instead of saying "buck up."

"Take the field, Tommy!" Katie barked from the back, holding your screaming baby to her shoulder and trying to offer her warmth and comfort. However, it was impossible with the tangible panic and loud blaring of horns and cursing voices. "We can cut across and pick the road up on the west side."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. West, West, all right. All right, hang on," he turned the wheel, everyone bracing for the sharp movement before the bumping of the terrain became wildly uneven.

Around them, other cars followed suit, and the field was soon flooded with civilian cars trying to flee. "The fuck could be happening?" Katie asked you, gulping, "You're the doctor!"

"I-I don't fucking know, Katie, please," you whispered back, gulping in nerves as Tommy drove you all over the grass.

However, when they came over the hill to catch sight of their destination, there was a flooding of lights and choppers in the air. Tommy cursed, "Shit! Fuckin' Army!"

"Isn't that good?" Sarah asked from your embrace.

"It's good for them, but that's the highway we're tryna get to," Tommy explained, coming to a halt as cars flooded past them.

"All right, keep movin'. Head north," Joel advised quietly, his mind trying to settle.

"Could be a lotta people," Tommy argued lightly.

"Well, we can't go south, we can't go east, we can't go west," Joel pointed out. "Hell else we supposed to go?"

"Tommy, fuckin' drive!" You grit, Katie joining you in on the last word.

"Tommy, c'mon!" Joel followed right after. The tires squealed as Tommy pressed on the gas while turning his wheel, making the truck turn and speed off for a distant suburban town; lights in the distance guiding you. "Yeah," Joel muttered. "Yeah, I know that place. This can work."

"Yeah, all right, fine, cool, but then what?" Katie asked. "Where are we supposed to go then?"

"I don't know. Mexico. Just far, far as we can," Joel answered uneasily. "How much gas?"

"Three-quarter tank," Tommy answered.

"Go through town," Joel advised. "Golf course by the river, straight across, we pick up the highway on the other side of the blockade, then we're out."

"I'm gonna throw up," Katie whispered, head tilted back with her eyes closed.

"If you're feelin' sick, hand me my baby," you snapped, looking at her with fear.

"No, girl, it's anxiety," she snapped back. "I'm not sick."

"How can you be sure?" Sarah wondered.

"Cause it would've hit us the same as it did our family..."

"Who'd it hit?" Tommy wondered, looking back.

"We're all that's left," you sighed, saving your sister from answering. "Daddy turned first, then Mama... Billy after... We got out."

"They bite 'chall?" Tommy asked, glancing back.

"No," you answered, looking at Katie. "You bit?"

"Nope, I beat 'em to the punch," she sighed. "Ah, fuck, my stomach."

"Throw up in my truck, darlin'," Tommy muttered, sucking his teeth.

"Throw up on my baby, Kate, and I'll beat 'cho ass," you snipped, perking a warning brow at her.

"Girl," she sighed, glancing at Sarah - who had sat off you in contemplation. "Sarah?" She whispered in wondered.

"Maybe it's everywhere," she voiced, glancing at the two of you sat on either side of her. "Maybe there's nowhere to go..."

"Well, hey, we'll just have to find somewhere safe," you nodded back at her, but furrowed your brow. "Anyone hear that?"

"Oh, shit - "

"What the fuck!?" Tommy called over Katie, glancing up towards the roof as there came a deafening sound of a plane flying far too low to the ground.

"Cover her ears!" You begged Katie, reaching for Sarah to press your hands over her ears. Your sister held your daughter's ears closed - her still screaming bloody murder - as the plane flew over the truck.

"Fuckin' hell!" She looked back, noting the sky. Sarah whipped around, too, only to spy two more planes in the sky - all flying low and at odd angles.

However, ahead of them, cop cars were speeding around the streets and cutting off any route. "Son of a bitch," Tommy cursed. "Gotta go around. Grab somethin'!"

You held onto the designated 'oh shit!' bar over your head as Sarah leaned over to hold Katie and your baby. Tommy took a sharp right into an alley, between buildings. When you all rightened, it was only to see the people on the street running around, screaming, cars zooming past them all. Tommy took a left, then another right, and joined the bustle of the street.

"All right, keep goin', keep goin'," Joel pointed ahead, but tommy blew past a stop sign. "Shit - TOMMY!"

Another car came to a screeching halt, barely missing T-boning the Tommy's truck. They moved on, only to discover people mauling each other in the street - blocking most of their path. "Oh, my God," Sarah whispered, reaching for you as your arm came around her shoulders again as Tommy came to a stall.

"Tommy, you can't stop here," Joel reminded.

"I can't drive through 'em all!"

"Are you serious?" Joel barked. "Just keep goin'!"

However, ahead came the smashing of glass and a stampede of people - all running wildly and making you assume they were Infected, too. "Ohhhhhhh, shit," Katie whimpered.

"Go, go, go, go, back, back, back, back, back, back," Joel encouraged his brother, who hastily switched gears.

"I'm trying!"

However, when you and Sarah looked back to watch the crowd and stay out of Tommy's range of sight, you saw a distant threat and tuned everything else out. "Joel!" You begged, reaching for his arm as the sight of an airborne plane turning in the sky to head back your way was far too pressing right now.

"Dad!" Sarah echoed.

"Holy shit," Katie sobbed, cradling your baby tightly and without you even noticing, put her seatbelt on.

"Move. MOVE!" Joel told Tommy.

The plane took a nosedive into the ground, exploding, and send a flurry of parts around the surrounding area. One of those areas happened to the building you were driving past, and one of the steel parts ricocheted off it and into the truck.

Everything went black.

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me? Hey, hey, hey, darlin', c'mon, open them pretty eyes for me, c'mon, baby, please."

"Fuck," you wheezed, eyes slowly opening.

"Hey, hey, hey, there you are, hey," Joel whispered, Tommy, Katie, and Sarah already out of the truck. "There you go, c'mon, you all right? You hurt?"

"No," you blinked a few times, wiggling your toes and fingers. "Fuck's sake, what happened?"

"Car accident," he nodded, "c'mon, sugar, gotta get up for me," he looked around. "We ain't safe here, c'mon, baby, that's it."

You nodded and let him pull you from the wreckage, grunting when shattered glass pressed into your skin to create long drips of blood that resembled a child's melted-crayon canvas from elementary art class. When out, Sarah kept weight off her ankle and wobbled in her stance, making you frowned, "All right?"

"Ankle," Sarah sniffled.

"We gotta get off the streets!" Tommy called from the other side of the car.

"KATIE!?"

"I got her!" She called back, and then, you could distinguish her shrill crying. You sighed with relief before Tommy was profanely screaming and Joel turned you and Sarah from the car just as an out-of-control police car came smashing into the truck.

"I got her," you told Joel, taking hold of Sarah in full as he nodded in thanks before turning for the wreckage they couldn't get around.

"Tommy!? Tommy!? Katie!? TOMMY!"

The brothers found a glimpse of each other through the flames, Tommy telling his brother, "Head to the river! We'll find a way! Get them outta here, Joel! Go!"

"Take care of my daughter," he nodded back.

"C'mon," Tommy told Katie, and the two were taking off with Tommy's gun slung over his shoulder.

Joel turned back for you and Sarah, gulping nervously at you, "Darlin', listen, I'm so sorry - "

"Joel, now's not the time," you panted. "We gotta go. Okay? We're good right now, but we gotta stay good. Let's get the fuck outta here, please. We can talk later!"

He nodded back, looking at Sarah, who refused, "We can't leave them! K-Katie has D - "

"They'll be fine," Joel insisted. "Tommy's with 'em, they'll look after each other. Can you run?"

"No," she shook her head, making Joel sigh.

"Can you?"

"I'm good," you nodded, worryingly looking at Sarah. "I can carry her - "

"'S all right, darlin'," he muttered, sweeping Sarah into his arms and making her arms latch around his neck. "You keep your eyes on me," he told his daughter. She nodded. "Okay?"

"Okay," Sarah breathed.

"Okay," Joel nodded. "And you don't look anywhere else." Sarah buried her head in her father's neck, his eyes meeting yours. "And you..." He panted, swallowing nervously. "You stay with me, you stay right with me, all right?"

"All right."

"All right," he agreed, hurrying off down the alley. You were true to your word, keeping up with him easily, but both slowing when the end of the alley only lead to a group of Infected motherfuckers feasting on the flesh of other humans.

You panicked for a moment, looking around you, and nearly missing the sound of the a distant explosion - sounding more like a crack from this distance. However, it was enough of a sound to draw the attention of at least one Infected Fucker - who looked up to stare at you, Joel, and Sarah.

Joel lead you to a building behind you - but the Fucker followed. "Joel, go, go, go," you hissed, easily taking the lead to use your body to burst through doors. Joel followed, understanding that because he was carrying Sarah, you had assumed the role of "guide" and wanted to clear his path - but it also cleared a path to be followed.

It made horrendous sounds as it chased you three, literally hauling it's body around as if it had no real control over it. The feeling inside your chest was chaotic, the tension tangible through the air as you lead Joel through the closed-diner.

The creature still followed.

Finally outside, you didn't have to restrict yourself but couldn't find it in you to leave Joel and Sarah behind. If this was the end, it was only right you fell as a family - and while deeply stupid of you, it was oddly poetic. However, as you heard the beast in pursuit just nipping at your heels, so sounded a reverberating gunshot.

It made you pause, looking back to see a headshot had taken the Infected Fucker out, and yet, no obvious sign of the shooter. Joel comforted Sarah, looking down at you - making you nod, telling him you were okay - before looking around again.

Then, a flashlight blinded you as a Humvee's lights flashed on, a voice demanding, "Don't move!"

"Joel..." You whispered, holding onto his elbow as he readjusted so he was slightly in front of you.

"My daughter's hurt!" Joel called to the military man. "Her ankle!"

"Stop right there!" He barked again.

"Okay," Joel muttered, nerves being shared as you had a bad feeling about this. "Easy now. We're not sick!"

But the solider, instead, radioed in, "I got three civilians by the river, one of 'em injured... Ankle..."

"What about Uncle Tommy and Aunt Katie?" Sarah asked her father.

"We're gonna get you somewhere safe first, with your Mama. Yeah? Then we'll come back for 'em, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, repeat?" The solider asked into his comms system - earning your attention again. Joel tried to step forward, but the flashlight was right back up into your face, the man snapping, "Hey! No one told you to move!"

"Joel," you worried. "They have shoot-to-kill orders."

"What?" He whispered.

"In the event of extreme violence, similar to this, they have orders to shoot-to-kill," you told him shakily, watching the man. "I know you wanna trust 'em, but they're not our friend right now. Get ready to run..."

"Darlin' - "

"Joel," you hushed, squeezing his elbow.

The solider answered his commanding officer with three, spaced out, "Yes, sir's," before he was slowly picking up his firearm and the light was again in their eyes.

Joel realized how right his estranged wife was in that moment. "We're not sick," he tried to remind. But the man approached, making Sarah's breathing pick up as she held on tighter to Joel's neck - blindly reaching out for you. "Sir," Joel begged, "we are not sick!"

But just like you had said, the orders were shoot-to-kill, and the rapid gunfire sounded in the knight - only barely masked by Sarah's high-pitched scream. You felt a searing burn in your thigh, all three of you toppling over down the short hill you were heading towards; all three rolling away from one another.

When you came to a halt, you seethed in pain, holding your thigh, but hearing a much worse sound. Sarah hyperventilating. You looked up as the solider leered over Joel, army-crawling towards her just as a gunshot sounded. However, when you weren't struck, you kept going, and reached your stepdaughter.

"Baby?" You whispered.

"Mama," she begged. "Mama, Mama," she repeated, barely able to swallow her saliva - much less her fear. "Hurts," she grunted, soon losing the ability to form words.

Tommy had seen the scene and rushed forward to shoot the solider, leaving Katie at his side with your infant daughter still in arm. "I got'cha, hey, hey, hey, I"m here," you whispered, literally whipping your shirt off to press into her stomach. "JOEL!" You cried, looking over your shoulder to spy him on the ground.

He quickly scrambled to Sarah's other side, taking in the situation, and looking at you with absolute devastation. You cried as you held pressure, but you knew, from the entry wounds, Sarah didn't stand a chance. Her aorta artery had been hit and shredded by a bullet, only giving her moments left in this life.

Watching Joel was possibly harder than watching him walk away from you in the birthing room. He was desperate, trying to save his daughter but only being able to hold her as she grunted and sobbed in pain; bleeding out in her father's arms. Joel begged you to help but you couldn't, unable to form words, so, he turned to his brother and screamed at him - and your sister - to help him.

But in that moment he had looked away, Sarah's life had left them. "Joel," you whimpered, making him look down and realize what happened. He sobbed, drawing her in tightly; rocking helplessly on the ground as he couldn't fathom what had just happened.

However, amongst his mourning, there came a sound you never wanted to hear again. Whipping around, you caught sight of your sister starting to twitch and leapt to your feet; limping in hurried motions to snatch your screaming baby from her tightening grip.

"Katie," you begged in a sob, backing up towards Tommy, "oh, God, no... No, please."

But the bite on her forearm had turned a sickly black-and-blue, alerting she had been bit at some point and never voiced it. Before your very eyes, she turned from your dear, sweet older sister into a blood-thirsty monster. Yellowed and dead eyes, snarling and uncontrollable twitching, limbs that turned up in odd angles as the infection took over completely.

When done, you sister gave a shriek before you pleaded, "Tommy!"

He took aim and fired once, putting Katie out of her misery; sending her corpse crumbling to the ground. You panted, tears in your eyes as you couldn't process this night, but then... The unexpected.

"Oh, God, no," you gasped, wrenching your daughter from your chest as she started wriggling uncontrollably. "No, no, no, no, no, no," you sobbed, dropping to your knees and laying her down. Quickly opening her baby blanket, you noted the adult-sized bite on her whole shin, sobbing harshly. "Delilah! No, not my baby, no, no, oh, fuck, no, c'mon, not you, too. Not you, too, Delilah, please, my angel, oh, fuck, no, God damn it!"

"Darlin'," Tommy stuttered from behind you. He looked up in fear, finding his brother's confused gaze and calling, "J-Joel!"

"Delilah, please, fuck, h-how do I fix this!?" You begged. "No, fuck, God damn it! Why can't I help my daughters!?" You snarled at Tommy, sobbing until your chest hurt. "Why!? Why can't I save them!?"

"Doll," he whispered, his older brother slowly letting go of Sarah to lay her down, shut her eyes, and rest her arms over her stomach before turning for you.

"Not her, too, please," you begged. "That's everyone, please, no, please, th-this can't - please, this can't be happening! How do I help, Delilah, baby, please?" You still begged, looking at her bite. "I-I can - I don't know what to do! Wo-Would amputation work? Oh, fuck, no, no, it's - no, please!"

Joel stumbled to his feet, nearing you, but pausing as he could only stare as his infant daughter, whom he had only just seen, twitched and convulsed as the infection proved too great for her little body. It also wasn't lost to his that you had name her after his own mother, long since departed from this world and who would never meet her granddaughter.

"Oh, my God," Joel whispered, slowly nearing you as you sobbed over your daughter; hands hovering all over as you weren't sure where to touch her.

"Please!" You begged nobody, sobbing uselessly as Delilah came to a slow but jarring halt. "Oh, my God," you squeaked, leaning back in shock. "Oh... Oh, my fuckin' God, no... Not our kids, c'mon, no, God, please, fuck - this has to be some fucked-up nightmare. Right?" You looked desperately at Joel. "This... This isn't real, right? This isn't really happening? Please, Joel, you have to fucking tell me this isn't real - this can't be real."

"I'm sorry," Joel wheezed, slowly reaching for you.

"This didn't happen," you shook your head. "O-Our daughters - what the fuck just happened?"

Tommy slowly took the seat on your other side, Joel easily tugging you into his embrace as your sobs wracked your whole being. There were no words to be shared, only the grief of two parents who had just lost everything. Sarah's blood stained both your skin, Delilah laid perfectly still in her baby blanket right in front of you, and Tommy, who felt his gun weighed more than himself after failing to protect those he loved most in this world.

Joel, who lost his daughters but kept his brother.

And you... Who lost your husband a year ago and both your daughters, your mother, father, little brother, and older sister all in a single night. You, who would carry this night of great loss with you, for life. You, who felt confused on how "moving forward" was ever possible. You, who would eventually lose feeling in your head and heart that would result in years of violent turmoil.

You, who would eventually find a path to redemption, but for tonight, you, who grieved loudly and openly in the bloody arms of your estranged husband.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel miller hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #tlou joel

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Geto's little sister finding out her husband got sealed by her big brother and going nuts

Pairing: Geto's little sister x husband!Gojo

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: You thought you lost him forever, your big brother. Until Shibuya brings you back to reality, until your beloved husband gets sealed by none other than your dead big brother. Until you show your enemy what you're made off...

Warnings: this is a emotional rollercoaster, (y/n) is a bad bitch but damn that just hurts, drama over drama, cursing over cursing, I worked so hard to get this fic out tonight so please show some love 😭not proofread yet, will do that tomorrow!

„I’ll leave now.“

You look up from your magazine, furrowing your eyebrows at your oh so precious husband.

“Weren’t you suppose to leave…Like two hours ago?”, you question innocently.

“I wasn’t done in the bathroom.”

“You’re so vain that it hurts.”

“Watch your mouth, Geto”, he warns you by your former last name.

With a swift motion he lands on top of you, large figure almost swallowing you whole while you grin at him triumphally. Were you just teasing Satoru for him to grab you by the throat ever so slightly, for him to stare at you with his dirty blue eyes?

Definitely.

“Or what, Gojo?”, you bite back, emphasizing every syllable of his last name with so much provocation that it takes all his strength to stop himself from fucking you until you can’t stand anymore.

He never imagined you to lay under him this way. You, the sister of his best friend. You, who always seemed so threatful unbothered by him. Just before Suguru decided to leave all of you behind, just before he massacred both of your parents, you decided to give him a chance. And you didn’t even change your mind when he was forced to kill your big brother.

“You want me to stay here and leave our students out there alone?”, he hushes against your lips.

Because if you would, he’d definitely stay here all night.

“You know I’m always up for you, but not tonight. They actually called me as well when you were busy doing your pretty hair in the bathroom. Something serious is going on there. I’ll join as soon as I’m ready here.”

Since your brother decided to kill everyone apart from jujutsu sorcerers, you were always keen to do the exact opposite by saving as many people as possible. As much as you love him still, as much as you do in fact somehow understand him, he went down a path you couldn’t follow. He was like your older twin. Not only by looks, but also your cursed techniques were the same, made you a powerful weapon against these fucking curses.

Well, now you’re your own weapon as it seems. Your eyes stare up at your now husband who still looks at you with the same affection in his eyes like more than 10 years ago.

No, you aren’t alone. After all, you’ll always have Satoru by your side.

“Get your pretty ass moving then. We’ve got some work to do.”

-later in Shibuya-

You desperately try to ignore the way your guts turn, yanking down the busted streets as if you’re haunted.

He’s sealed.

Satoru Gojo, your newly husband, the one and only who stuck to you all these damn years, the love of your fucking life.

Sealed, gone in the wind, trapped in a tiny box.

But as if that wasn’t enough, rumours reached your ear. Rumours about none other than your big brother being responsible for this. Your big, dead brother.

Your feet clash against the hard ground underneath, body sprinting towards what looks like a new battlefield. Whoever this fucker is will pay for what he’s done. Not only to your husband, but to your brother as well.

And what about your students? You didn’t arrive on time, not a single update reached your ear when you entered the curtain, eyes wide open in disbelief by all the death surrounding you. If that thing hurt a single one of them, if a single jujutsu sorcerer lost their life here…

You’ll lose it completely.

The second a wave of what looks like ice begins to dart towards the recognizable outlines of people you waste no time, shooting a bunch of grade one curses their way while using one as a curtain to hold back the ice.

“(y/n)…Is…Is that you?”

Yuji. A few other students from Kyoto, Utahime, Panda, Kusakabe. They’re injured, but alive. What about the rest? Where are Mei Mei, Toge, Nanami and that old Zenin fart? You give yourself a little shake, eyes focused on your curse and the wave of ice in front of you. Now is not the right time to think about all of that. Your priority is to finally catch that fucker who uses your brother’s appearance and saving who’s here at the moment.

And the most important, get your sealed husband back.

“You have some fucking nerve, showing up and making such a mess. And now you’re even dumb enough to attack other jujutsu sorcerers. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?”

Your heart is almost beating out of your chest, eyes focused in front of you. Maybe that person just looks like him, Suguru. You found peace with the fact that he’s gone a long time ago, it’s simply not possible to see his gentle eyes ever again. You accepted the fact that he won’t trade his pokemon cards with you, that the time of getting on his nerves while secretly loving him dearly is over. No one can copy him, no one can-

“You are pretty late, (y/n).”

No one can sound like him. You shake your head in utter disbelief, mind desperately trying to process the fact that this sounded exactly like Suguru Geto, that the frame behind the falling curtain of ice and purple is…

Him.

You can’t move an inch. Instead, you just stand there in silence, staring him up and down. This looks just like him, this sounds like him. Fuck, this even smells like him, radiates the same energy as him.

But no.

The way he said your name wasn’t the same. It missed the soft tone in his voice, how it always lightened up by his small smile when seeing you.

“And you’re in big trouble.”

Is it an hallucination, some type of strange technique? No, it has to be his body, it is his body. Somebody else seems to control it.

And that someone will pay for using him, for tarnishing his memory.

“Is my own little sister not able to recognize me? I guess that’s not as bad as getting betrayed by her, though.”

“Spare me with that bullshit. It seems like you really know nothing about me and my big brother. What do you want me to do, huh? Break down in tears and cry, believe that you’re actually him? I will wipe your ass from this earth without even blinking. But before that, I want my husband back”, you his through gritted teeth.

“What betrayed me, little (y/n)? How did you know it wasn’t him?”

His figure comes closer, makes you urge to touch him just once. This is still his body, a body that reminds you of all the things you’ve been through. The serious business of trading pokemon cards that you did until he left, your shared training sessions, him introducing you to Satoru, him holding you in his arms when you’ve got your first heartbreak only for him to hold you back when you tried to set that poor boy on fire. This body still holds all of those memories.

But it doesn’t hold him anymore.

Your husband lives, though. He might be sealed, but he’s still somewhere. And that fucker has him, you just know it.

You shake them off, those feelings of melancholy. Time to focus on reality. And reality is that Satoru killed your big brother a year ago, that this thing in front of you has nothing in common with him except his appearance.

“No one will ever by as charming as he was. Now, will you give me my husband back without a fight and let me kill you? I’m not in the mood for a talk with you, y’know.”

It’s impossible and you know it. There is no way in hell this thing will give up its plan and just hand Satoru over. But at least this will buy you some time.

“You should know best that you don’t stand a chance against his body, don’t you think?”

A disregarding huff escapes your lips while you straighten your shoulders and stare right into the eyes of the big brother you’ve lost a year ago. God knows you really tried to stay cool, that you were desperate to keep your composure. But the second it grins at you with his charming face, it’s over and out.

“You should know that I wasn’t only better at pokemon trading, moron.”

“Stand behind me, I’ve got this.”

“But (y/n)-“

You don’t waste another minute. With a blast of another wave of different curses, you hit him with full force. Over the last few years, you absorbed every curse you stumbled upon. Especially the night parade was the perfect opportunity for you to steal your big brother’s precious curses. And even though you swore you yourself that you’ll never lose them, that they will remain in loving memory by your side, this seems like the perfect time to release them.

For a brief moment, you feel like crying, the way it just laughs at you with his voice, wearing his yukata, even wearing his hairstyle. How did it even come so far? How did this thing end up in your big brother’s body?

He would have wanted this, right? That you destroy his body in order to stop this madness. Despite all the horrible things he’s done, Suguru would have never wanted jujutsu sorcerers to get hurt, especially not Satoru. No, he would have never allowed your husband to get sealed, he wouldn’t let anyone attack you this roughly.

Your husband…How is he doing? Is he still alive? You feel like throwing up, just the minor thought of him potentially dying in this seal…No one was ever able to get out, some of the strongest sorcerers ended up in that cube.

No.

This needs to stop.

“Get yourself together”, you hiss to yourself, shaking off your stinging thoughts immediately.

This is not the time for sadness or grief.

This is the time for pure rage.

“I will make you pay for every sin you committed with his body”, you shout towards him while attacking him from underneath.

This thing is so fucking fast, using Suguru’s powers so efficiently that you’re almost not able to follow its movements.

You clench your hands into fists, eyes narrowed while thick fury pumps through your veins. Get yourself together, this isn’t only about taking revenge.

This is about getting your husband back.

“What would he think about you, seeing you this way? I know how disappointed he was when you left him to die, leaving him for his former best friend. And I thought I am cruel”, it spits at you, shooting another wave of curses your way.

“You know absolutely nothing about him, let alone me. You’re nothing but a parasite in his body, a bug I’ll crush underneath my heel.”

You draw yourself closer, keeping him busy in hand to hand combat. You were always better than Suguru when it came to fighting without any curses around. Where the hell does he keep that damned cube?

“You and me, we’re both parasites, (y/n). But unlike you, I can still look into the mirror without being disgusted of the way I turned out.”

“That’s because you’re looking into his gorgeous face, idiot”, you bite back, landing a full-on hit against his ribcage.

“Is that Satoru Gojo’s wife?”, Noritoshi Kamo mutters in sheer disbelief, eyes not even able to follow your rapid movements.

“Yep, the one and only”, Panda confirms dryly.

“Take a few steps back. She’ll definitely freak out-“

“RUN!”, Yuji cries on top of his lungs.

Countless courses roam around you and your big brothers’ corpse, fighting each other for dear life. He can’t help but admire you, the spark that gleams in your eyes, the way you don’t even try to hold back despite the stinging fact that you’re fighting against your brothers’ body. You look so threatful that it almost takes his breath away.

If it wasn’t for the last weapon he has in store.

“You’re not giving it everything, you’re holding back!”, he screams over the deafening noise around you both, making your veins stand out even more.

You see nothing but red, nothing but the shell of the brother you used to love, nothing but a monster that trapped your husband. That thing…That fucking thing straight out of hell.

“Uzumaki.”

The word leaves your mouths at the same time. Like in trance you stand there, watch as a giant wave of condensed cursed energy builds up behind Suguru’s frame, watch as it shoots towards you like an arrow.

You aren’t a fool, fully aware of the fact that you might get killed right here on the spot. This is your only chance to win this fight, to leave your brother’s body where it belongs, to free your husband out of that things’ grasp. But…are you strong enough?

“I can’t believe you’re already stronger than me. Look at you, (y/n).”

You kneeled down in front of him, took his hand into yours gently while desperately trying to supress a sob. This was it, the time you had to say your final goodbye to your best friend.

“Well, I just stole a whole bunch of your curses at that parade. They did taste like shit though.”

His kind smile radiated through the dark alley, right through your heavy heart. This…this couldn’t be the end. You weren’t even able to spend one last evening with him, to show him the pokemon cards you stole some kid.

“I don’t want you to go”, you finally gave in.

Faster than he was able to react, you wrapped your desperate arms around him, rested your head against his bloody chest. This couldn’t be the end, Suguru couldn’t leave you like that.

“I fear I have to, (y/n). You still got Satoru-“

“Satoru is not you”, you interrupted him immediately.

“Satoru is not my big brother. Satoru will never be you.”

“I’m so proud of the person you have become, (y/n). You are far more than a normal jujutsu sorcerer, way better than all those monkeys. You are my special, my everything. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. You’ll always stay (y/n) Geto to me. And I’ll be with you the whole way.”

Your eyes widen. Suguru, he firmly believed in you, never even second-guessed your abilities.

“You…just beat me.”

Your heavy breath hung in the air between both of you, body collapsing onto the ground from sheer exhaustion. What did Satoru just say? What did even happen the last few seconds?

“Babe, you…You were actually able to beat me.”

You…beat none other than Satoru Gojo?

“Impossible”, you murmured to yourself, staring at your bloody hands in sheer disbelief.

“You became so damn strong. My god, I’m so proud of you, (y/n)! You just have to work your ass off even more. Come on, get up, attack me again.”

And Satoru, the love of your life, your precious husband, the strongest…You were able to beat him.

You take a deep breath in, whole body being on fire. This is your moment. And you won’t let a cheap copy of your brother defeat you like that.

Like in trance, you dash forward along with your thick cursed energy, hands stretched out for him. One last look into his chocolate brown eyes, one last glance at his usually so soft features before you hit him with your fest shoot, a toe-curling scream of agony and rage escaping your lips while slamming him into the ground. Deeper and deeper, harder and harder. Back to where he belongs: six feet under.

“Give me my husband back”, you spit at him, grabbing his throat so harshly that you can feel his windpipe struggle against your palm.

Instead of replying, he just plainly laughs at you, bloodshot eyes almost piercing through you. That’s enough.

“Is this how you let it end, Suguru? Are you really letting this moron take control over your body like that! Come on, defend yourself, give Satoru back to me!”, you cry on top of your lungs, staring into the brown orbs you used to know so well.

“Pathetic. I am the one who’s in control of this body now, stupid girl!”

“I still have the shiny flareon you gifted me when I was 6, I’m always carrying it with me. I’m still sleeping in the shirt I stole from you when you were 16. You’ve done many things wrong in your way too short life, please do this one last thing right! Please give Satoru back to me.”

Your heart almost stops when his trembling arms yanks into the air, uncontrollably roaming around his Yukata.

Until he stretches it right in front of your face. The prison realm. Your husband.

“This…this can’t be possible! I am the one who is in control over this body!”

Your body goes numb, widen eyes staring at his arm while your heart skips a beat. This is really him, your Suguru. He really is strong enough to even outstand death.

His fingertips brush over your cheek ever so gently. Fuck, you feel like breaking down and crying. This right in front of you is your big brother, the person you thought you lost a year ago, the man who slipped through your fingers when he was 16 without you even noticing. You weren’t there for him the way you should have been, weren’t able to drag him back onto your side, weren’t able to save him from his unnecessary death.

“I’m sorry, Suguru. I will always love you with all my heart.”

But you know you have to go.

Now.

With one last glimpse you yank yourself into the air, hand holding onto that little cube for dear life.

Focus on the mission.

“We need to go, now”, you yell towards your students, sending a curse in the form of a dragon their way.

You straighten your shoulders, chase away the memories that threaten to destroy you completely.

“Hey hot thing, long time no see. Guess you were just as surprised as me when you saw him again, huh?”, you mutter towards the cube in your hands that has its bright blue eyes set on you.

“I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I’ll get you out of there, Satoru. After all, we’re the strongest…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @tachiharazsstuff @kawaiiakamaru @lilacsinjuly @nazeeraswife @eva-616 @revrse @thel0v3hashira143 @arehzhera @circe143 @mitsuristoleme @sugaremedy @sugurulefttesticle @sweetchildcloud @invmakitoge @a-daydreamers-day @rhinara-vy

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rafaslittleboy · 2 months ago

Text

older & wiser

big brother! sonny carisi x reader

summary: sonny overhears a private conversation between yourself and your older cousin mia about lack of self pleasuring tools and decides to take it upon himself to help you (ft. a dick mould that he got for his first year of college as a joke… but it comes in handy).

warnings: brother-sibling incest, use of small vibrator, clit play, reader isn’t gendered but has clit & vagina, kissing, fingering, sonny uses a very special dildo on you 😉

special thanks to the love of my literal life @noellawrites for editing this majorly for me. love you forever ❤️

Sonny nursed half of a beer can as he listened to his sisters talk, zoning in and out of their conversations. Baby talk, gossip about co-workers, talking about the ‘bad’ stuff their husbands have done (lack of washing dishes, not doing laundry—stuff the husbands should have been doing). Uninteresting conversations, to say the least. Nothing he could relate to.

His own relationship with Amanda had been… not the best. She was a piece of work and treated him like crap most days. Sonny thought being with her could settle some of his own internal thoughts, help him move on from someone that he really shouldn’t be falling for.

“Sonny, be an angel and go n’ tell ‘em both that dinner’s almost finished, you know how those two can be,” his mom told him as she pulled out a casserole from the oven, steam wafting in her face.

Sonny let out a strangled grunt as he sat up and placed his open can on the coffee table. He was getting old and any sudden movement strained his muscles—all those years running around as a detective really caught up to him now that his job is to sit down at a desk all day.

It had been a while since the whole family had come together. So many scheduling conflicts and Sonny’s hectic schedule always changing at the last minute; you never got to see your brother. Still living at home, you never got to see any of your siblings because they were far older than you—your oldest sister was in her fifties, while you were in your early twenties.

“--oh god, Mia,” your voice was heard through the cracked door, and he frowned at first but stayed behind the door to listen in. “That’s so embarrassing!”

“Oh my god,” she gasped, “is this what you use?” and a giggle followed afterwards. “It’s so small!”

Your face burned with embarrassment, “can we put it back now?” and you reached out to grab the tiny matte black vibrator but she held it back just enough that you couldn’t grab it from her hand.

“This is like… travel sized, I bring something like this with me on road trips.”

You groaned again, “please just give it back, it’s making me feel weird seeing it in the light.”

Mia finally gave in and tossed it back to you, “you should get a real one, something that can actually get you off. Like a boyfriend, to begin with,”

“Mom doesn’t want me to date yet,” Sonny hears a drawer open and close, “she says that ‘I’m her last baby and she wants me to do things right because everyone else didn’t’.”

“Like fuck?” Mia said, and he heard you groan. “Come on, it’s your life. She can’t tell you what to do.”

“I know, I know. I just… don’t want to go against her wishes.”

“You know, you could do other things with guys. When I started college, me and this guy jerked each other off—technically, that wasn’t having sex.”

Sonny frowned, he didn’t really exactly want to know about Mia’s sexual escapades and he should have really just told you both that dinner was ready–but something was stopping him. The buried, perverted part of him wanted to hear; but only for what you had to say.

Sonny knew it was weird, having these taboo feelings towards you. He tried to ignore the fact that he had watched you grow up and was still attracted to you. But with you in your twenties and single, he truthfully believed no one was good for you other than himself. That he was your soulmate.

That’s why he kept it all dead and buried. Secretly, behind all of his ADA work and previous detective work, he went against all of his own morals to harbor feelings towards his baby sibling. He was a pervert and he knew it.

“... Maybe,” you exhaled, “I just—the guy I want has a girlfriend, or is about to, anyway. I don’t just want to do something with just anyone. I want him.” Your voice trailed off into something Sonny identified as sadness.

Your reply had Sonny frowning again in thought. Who were you talking about? From the information from his sisters and mother about you, you weren’t seeing or talking to anyone. If you were to tell any of your sisters anything about your personal–personal life, you would always tell Bella. And unfortunately for you, if Sonny wanted to get any information from his little sister, she was the weakest link and would tell him with little pressure.

Who exactly were you referring to? The perverted side of him hoped it was him you liked.

After a while, Sonny decided he had been lingering long enough and was getting hungry. He stood straight and cleared his throat, opening your door.

“What’re you two doin’ up here?” as if he didn’t just listen to your whole conversation.

“Nothing,” Mia said with a stifled smile, “just… small talk,” and then she laughed and you pushed her shoulder in an attempt to get her to shut up. Your face went a few shades darker with embarrassment and you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Anyway, mom said dinner’s ready.” Sonny said, “‘ya better get down there before it’s all gone, ‘ya know how our sisters are.”

Mia got up first and her wide smile didn’t falter as she left, ducking under Sonny’s extended arm.

“You comin’?”

“Yeah,” you forced a smile, and half of it was genuine. You got up off your bed and followed down the stairs behind your big brother.

—

For the next few days, Sonny couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He saw you reaching for salad dressing and thought about you using that tiny vibrator to desperately get yourself off. You needed a real cock, someone who really knew how to pleasure you. And he knew it had to be him, your own big brother, as he jerked himself off in his childhood bedroom right next to yours in the middle of the night.

–

“Sonny, hey,” you said softly as you sat up, closing the lid of your laptop and pushing it off to the side.

It was late at night, nearing midnight and you were working on an essay for school before you put it off for too long and had to write the whole paper in one night before it was due.

“Jus’ wanted to check in on you,” he said, and he walked forward and sat down on the edge of your bed. “You uh… you doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m okay.” you reply, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, kiddo. I, uh, I got a gift for ‘ya,” he says, giving you a little half-smile.

From behind his back, Sonny pulls out a wrapped gift, slightly smaller than a shoe box.

“Wh-what—?”

“Jus’ open it, baby,” he urges, placing it in your hands. You follow his lead, pulling the ribbon off and unwrapping the box. You look up at him briefly before opening the lid. What you see inside almost makes your heart stop.

“Dude—“ your eyes widened at the object in the box. a dildo, a really real dildo, staring back at you. it was a deep peach color that faded to a red at the tip.

“Why?”

“…Mia might’ve said somethin’ to me,” he fabricated, it was the only excuse he had, really. And it wasn’t as if you were going to go and ask her, either. “About your… uh… lack of experience.”

“Oh, god,” you put your head in your hands to avoid looking at him. “She shouldn’t have told you anything, I shouldn’t have even told her about it.”

“Gotta tell ya, I’m a little upset.” Sonny placed the toy back inside the padded box and placed it away from you both. You peeked over your fingertips to look at him. “Would’a thought you would’ve come to me ‘bout all this.”

“Well… you’re my brother, I just thought you’d… I don’t know, judge me.”

Sonny tuts, “in my line of work, kid? I’m more approachable than our sista’s.” And he’s right, because you didn’t go to your sisters or your parents–Mia only found out by pure accident and a slip of the tongue.

“I—I guess so.” you say, lowering your eyes to the ground.

When Sonny lifts up your chin with his finger, your eyes meeting his in an oddly intimate gaze.

“I wanna help ‘ya, baby.”

“I dunno, Sonny. You’re… my brother,” you sigh.

“I’ll lock tha’ door, kid. ‘Ya ain’t gotta worry, hm? Jus’ gonna be between me ‘n you.” he hums.

He doesn’t wait for your response, hands moving to your sides and shimmying down your underwear.

As much as you hated to admit it, his touches drove you crazy. He looked at you so tenderly and it made your pussy throb. You never knew that your own older brother could make you feel so sexually charged.

“How’s this feelin’, baby?” he coos, running one finger up and down your slit while his other hand rests on your tummy.

“‘S-s’ good, Sonny,” you whimper, reminding Sonny of all those sweet moments you’ve shared as siblings. And now, you were moving so far away from that.

Sonny watched as your pussy juice dripped onto your bedding, leaving a little damp spot below you.

“Where’s ‘ya lil’ toy?” he asks, glancing at your bedside table.

“Uh–um…” you blush, reaching under your pillow and pulling out the tiny toy he’d seen you and Mia looking at a few days before.

He takes it from you gently, smiling as he goes back down to your pussy. He moves the bullet to your clit and savors your reaction, hips jutting upward as he presses the ‘on’ button.

“oh—Sonnnyy,” you moan, head falling back onto your pillow. Your older brother was making you feel better than you ever had, doing the same exact thing you’d tried countless times before.

Sonny moves the bullet downwards, inching it into your entrance as you gasp and try to keep yourself quiet. He slides it in and you can feel tears escaping your eyes at the blissful feeling of being fucked.

Then, the bullet died. You raised your head just enough to let out a single sob of discomfort, your eyebrows furrowing and thighs falling even further because of said discomfort. Your hips shimmy to get any sort of feeling back on your sensitive bud.

“Hey… s’alright,” Sonny said as he placed it on your nightstand, “I can use my fingers, see?”

Within a few seconds, Sonny had one fingertip on the outside of your underwear and was circling your clit in slow strokes. He heard you sigh in relief due to the brief absence of pleasure in your little bud. His fingertip was firmer than the plastic vibrator, you could feel the difference and preferred his fingers more.

Sonny was loving it more than he expected. Pleasuring you and making you feel good awoke something in him, and he never wanted to go back in holding back his feelings for you.

He used his free hand to turn your face so he could press a soft kiss on your lips, and your mind was so clouded that you kissed him back without a second thought. You let your own hidden thoughts and feelings about your older brother take charge (like they did when you touched yourself, but this time, you didn’t feel disgusted while it happened). Sonny’s lips were soft and by god he knew how to kiss, taking charge immediately and opening your mouth to him.

Sonny swallowed your sound of disappointment when he took his fingertips off your swollen clit and then he swallowed your moan when the same fingertips slid down to your dripping slit, feeling up and down the arousal he caused.

“S’this for me?” he asked against your lips and you nodded, “fuck–yeah, you–it’s for you,” and he smiled at your response. You’re so desperate.

When he reached for the toy, you were disappointed. You didn’t know why you expected him to pull himself out and fuck you; this whole time with him was supposed to be him teaching you how to use the toy he got you.

He placed the tip against you and slid it through your folds, your wetness coating his huge head. He bit his plump lip and his eyebrows furrowed together, now he was really imagining it being his cock–you were incredibly wet and he wanted to swap places with his molded cock.

“Shh, it’s just the head, you can take it,”

Sonny began slowly fucking you with the dildo, bringing it out until only the tip was inside you, to pushing it all the way back in until it barely kissed your cervix.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “just take it, relax…”

He smoothed his palm over your tummy and sprawled out his fingers. Sonny closed his eyes and tried—and he really did try—to imagine it was him inside you, making you make those little noises, making you feel good. To imagine pushing inside you and feeling your warm and wet hole contract around him.

Technically, it was. It was him inside you, making you feel so good.

You were taking his cock, despite it being a silicone copy. You were taking it like a champ, half of it being able to fill you and he knew that if he trained you enough you would be able to take all of it. Maybe that’s another activity he can do with you.

Sonny moved so he was between your legs and your eyes were transfixed to the very hard bulge in his gray sweatpants. Your pupils dilated even more and your mouth filled with saliva, legs spreading just a little more with pure want. You felt your insides throb at the thought of him inside you and you wanted nothing more than his body weight on top of you and his hard cock thrusting inside you until he was satisfied.

Your small hand wrapped around his wrist and he looked at you with soft, yet lust-blown eyes, “can I… can I see yours?”

It was a question he never expected you to ask him. He had obviously worked you up so much that lust had clouded your mind and you asked for what you wanted.

“You sure?” His hand rubs your bare thigh, and you felt the warmth from his palm on your burning skin and all you wanted was more. Your big brother’s fingers inside you again, and your eyes were locked onto the bulge in his sweatpants and your mouth watered at the idea of doing more than seeing it—but you had decorum (what was left, anyway) and you didn’t have the confidence to ask him to put it in your mouth.

“Yeah,” your voice came out as a hoarse whisper and you watched as Sonny’s thick and long fingers went to the waistband of his sweats and pulled down just enough that his cock slipped out and bobbed at the extra room–no longer being confined–and he heard your audible gulp at your first sighting at his very real, very erect cock.

Sonny hoped you didn’t recognise the shape as he held his sex-toy-copy in his spare hand, but he watched as you tore your eyes from it and to his face; “it’s… big,” is all you said.

“Can I touch it?” You licked your bottom lip.

Without answering, Sonny took your limp wrist and placed your loose hand on his cock, your fingers curling around his thick cock and he groaned at the first contact. Your head tipped to rest on his shoulder as you familiarized yourself with his cock, fingers tightening and your fingertips just barely touching.

“I bet you get all the girls and guys,” you smile lazily, eyes half lidded as your teeth bite your bottom lip. You wanted nothing more than for that to be inside you instead.

“Ya’ jealous?” He smirks and rubs the tip of the toy against your opening, sliding it up to your clit then back down again, teasing you.

As you muffle your moan and tug on his cock, Sonny decides that he has to fuck you one way or another—and right then, he wanted to fuck you with the toy. He wanted you somewhat used to having something big inside you before he even thought about convincing you to let him guide his cock inside you and fuck you hard and soft.

“Fuck–jesus, oh my god,” your back arched slightly as he thrust the tip inside you, already pushing you to the edge. He moved his wrist slowly, working you open enough to be able to take the tip of the toy. Sonny had been playing with you for so long that he had your body hyper-sensitive and aching for an orgasm. “Sonny–it’s big–really big–”

Sonny smiled down at you and continued to softly fuck you with it. A soft squelching filled the room and his cock twitched in your loose grip, your fist squeezing down on it lightly when the tip entered you and hit against the spongy spot inside you that you could never reach on your own without an intense arm workout that ultimately failed in the end anyway.

Sonny brought his other hand down to your wet clit and used the pad of his thumb to rub small circles on it, making it impossible to hold the moan that was caught in your throat. It was louder than you thought and Sonny gave you a warning look. Too loud meant that either of you could be caught doing what you were doing and it would’ve been a horrible event to explain.

“Shh, baby… ya need’a be quiet, need’a keep ya tone down. I know m’ makin’ ya feel good.”

You nodded, letting out a really shaky sigh and closing your eyes as Sonny pleasured you. You had to bite your tongue when Sonny slid more of the toy inside you and put more pressure on your clit. “Sonny—” you whined, clenching your eyes shut.

You could feel an orgasm creeping up on you, and it felt different since it wasn’t yourself that was causing it. It was someone else, and more importantly, it was your big brother; The Big Bad ADA. It turned you on more than you’d like to admit, being fucked by a dildo by your own brother while you held his heavy, large cock in your hand and jerked him off the best you could while you were feeling so fucking good.

The pace of the dildo-fucking changed, and you felt it punching inside your wet pussy harder and just a little bit faster and god, you felt so full. You didn’t know how much you were taking of the toy, but it felt like a lot. You wanted to scream that it felt so good, but all you let out was a frustrated, muffled moan held back by your lips.

“Like that, baby? S’it feelin’ good when I fuck ya like this?” His mock-baby-voice and cooing made you feel as if you were a puddle, and you nodded in response. Your hips tried their best to thrust back on the toy, but everything you were feeling was building and building and building into something you couldn’t handle.

You nodded as he fucked you with it even harder and managed to fit at least half of it inside you, leaving a white cream every time he pulled it from inside you and a little damp patch on your blanket with just how wet you were. Your legs shook as he kept it up, his thumb on your clit rubbing hard and fast and the toy punching inside of you had you teetering on the edge and he felt it. Your fist squeezed tight around his cock.

It hit you fast and hard, a few more hard circles from his thumb onto your swollen clit had your tight walls squeezing so hard on the toy inside you, taking only seconds for him to make you cum—hard.

Your fingers squeezed down on his cock as you experienced the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, little spurts leaving your puffy pussy as he fucked the cock into you. The pressure of your fingers along with being painfully hard and turned on allowed Sonny to thrust into your hand and groan deep from his chest as he came. His hot, milky cum shot from the head of his cock and landed on your thighs, pussy and abdomen.

Sonny slumped down on an arm on top of you, breathing hard as he came down from his high and his cock jerking in your loose grip, getting the last bits of himself out and onto your hot, sweat-slicked skin. He let go of the toy inside you and let the tip stay inside you, your bottom half twitching in the aftermath.

“Christ, kid,” Sonny chuckled, wetting his dry lips. “Ya really wrung me out t’dry.”

You let out a breathy laugh along with him and kissed him, because god did you need it. Need him. In your state of mind, you didn’t care about any consequences. You loved your big brother and you were confident he definitely loved you back.

The kiss was sloppy, drool leaving the corner of your mouth as you moaned into each other. Sonny reached between you to slowly slide the toy out from inside you and used his fingers to touch your very oversensitive pussy, swallowing your gasp.

“Came real hard, didn’t ya?” He smiled against your lips, leaning his head back enough to look into your dazed eyes. You smiled and pushed his face away, “don’t get all ‘high horse’ on me, counselor.”

He kissed you again, “next time, it ain’t gonna be the toy.”

And god, you wanted nothing more than that.

#sonny carisi #law and order svu #peter scanavino #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi imagine #raul esparza #tw: incest #incest fic #dead dove don’t eat

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fairy-writes · 20 days ago

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I read your 'Young Prodigies' fic I could help feeling softie reading this. Could I request what if the twins have a baby sister? The baby inherited her father's a cheerful personality.

How would the twins and papa soshiro interact with the little girl?

LITTLE HANDS, BIG HEART

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Original Child Characters, Fluff,

Notes: So this starts in the hospital when the little girl is born. This implies that a: reader gave birth or, b: you adopted her, or c: you had a surrogate and picked her up at the hospital. Either way, I tried keeping this gender-neutral.

The names I picked and their meanings are as follows (pls lmk if I got any meanings wrong, I’m using a website for said names)

Katsuo: Victory and/or hero

Osamu: Discipline/study

Sachie: Happiness and/or good luck

The twins call you “Poppy” in this :)

__________________________________________________________________________

The hospital nursery was quiet this time of night.

Soshiro held Katsuo and Osamu’s hands in his as the little trio made their way down the hall where you were waiting.

“Dad? Where’s our baby sister?” Katsuo asked and tugged on his father’s hand. It was a cute gesture for the ten-year-old. One he had never quite grown out of since he was still a toddler. Holding their hands was also a habit that Soshiro never grew out of.

“In the nursery. We’re almost there.” He said simply, spotting you outside the window to what he assumed was the nursery.

“Poppy!” The twins shout in unison, letting go of their father’s hand and scampering to your side. You turn and spot them, your face breaking out in a grin, and you kneel to give them both a tight hug.

“I hope traffic wasn’t too bad?” You direct your question to your husband as he approaches at a more leisurely pace.

“Not at all. It’s like midnight. How’s the little tyke?” He said, leaning in to kiss your temple as you stood up. You hum and pull his lips in to meet yours in a quick kiss.

“She’s wonderful, sleeping right now, but she’s good.” You say against his mouth, only pulling away when Osamu gets your attention by waving a hand in your general direction.

“Which one is she?” He asks, face pressed against the glass separating the sleeping babies from the rest of the world. Katsuo joined his twin, and together, they squinted at the names written on the little bassinets. You approach the boys, your hand in Soshiro’s, and you point to one on the second row away from you.

“Second row back, third one from the left.” You say gently. Soshiro looks and sees a little pink blob swaddled in a pastel pink blanket and a matching hat over a soft head of curls.

The twins chatter eagerly and babble excitedly about all the things they want to teach their little sister when they get to bring her home. You smile warmly as you watch your sons and ruffle their hair.

“Do you want to go in and see her?” You ask, and it’s like a record screeched to a stop. They stop dead in their tracks and stare at you with wide eyes. Soshiro can’t help but grin as he flags down a nursery doctor.

“Can we go in and see our little one?” He asked, and the nursery doctor nodded happily. Your little family is given instructions and overgowns to wear before entering the nursery. The gowns drown Katsuo and Osamu, but they’re practically bouncing in excitement, so they don’t mind much.

Inside the nursery was even quieter than outside. Inside was filled with the quiet cooing of babies or sleeping noises. There wasn’t a crying infant in sight.

You lead the way, talking in soft tones to your boys as Soshiro watches on fondly. The gowns rustle as you arrive at the bassinet containing their baby sister.

Her eyes are open now, and she’s cooing up at them with a wide and curious gaze. Her arms are swaddled to her sides, but Soshiro bet she’d be reaching up if she could. With the okay from the watching attending nurse, you picked up the little girl. You handed her gently to Soshiro as Katsuo and Osamu coo happily at their new baby sister.

Surprisingly, Soshiro feels a pinprick of tears in his eyes.

“Are you crying?” You ask and he turns his head away to scrub it on his shoulders.

“‘Course I am. She’s adorable.” He said, turning his watery smile back to the cooing newborn in his arms.

“Welcome to the family, Sachie.” He whispered, and she squealed in delight.

#hoshina soshiro x you #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x you #hoshina x you #hoshina x reader #kn8 x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 x y/n #kaiju no. 8 x you #kaiju no. 8 x reader #fairy writes

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curseofhecate · 17 days ago

Text

MERRY CHRISTMAS, PLEASE DON'T CALL |LN4

an: This is obviously based on merry Christmas, palase don't call by the bleachers, which I have on repeat ever since it came out. Ik this is a bit depressing, but in a suckered for angst so you can't blame me. This is from the readers point for view.

w.c.: 1.3k

December 25th, Christmas.

Outside, the snow was falling softly, the glow of the streetlights casting a yellow glow over it. Her apartment was cold and dark and awfully quiet. Up until a few hours ago, the living room, the very room she was sitting in now, had been so warm, so full of life.

This year it had been her turn to host the annual family Christmas gathering.The chaos of it had done a good job keeping her distracted. But her family had left hours ago. Normally, said gathering would drag on well into the evening, but this year her parents had left earlier, having flown over to London on Christmas Eve and with the excuse of needing to catch up with jet lag, while her sister and husband had left as soon as Nicole, her niece had started getting sleepy.

That left her alone, in a messy apartment that suddenly seemed too warm, too bright, suffocating. It took another hour or so to clean up everything. And when everything was back to normal, she sat down on her couch in the living room, watching the snow fall outside with the lights off except for the lights on the christmas tree.

It is weird how fast time moves.

This time last year they were on their way back to his apartment from his parents house. He had taken her to meet this family, insisting that they would love her when she was nervously telling him they might think its too soon on the car ride there. And he was right. His family ended up loving her.

This time last year they were driving home, and when they’d get there, they would change into more comfortable clothes, her in hoodie that belonged to him which had a big 4 printed on the back which made Lando go crazy, and they'd settle down on the couch, covered in blankets and holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate each, while christmas movies played on the tv.

Two years ago today, she hadn’t even known he existed. Well, technically she did, since he was a famous formula 1 driver and all of that, but she’d never met him and she didn’t really care to do so. Two years ago right now, she would have been getting ready for that party her friends insisted she went to.

That’s where she met him. A Christmas party, hosted by a friend of a friend. She wasn’t big on parties, she never had been. Normally she would sit back, maybe have a drink or two but never more and wait for the time to pass until it was acceptable to leave or until one of her friends decided to ditch.

Lando was there with a girl, one he had been hooking up with at that fraction in time. And even though it wasn’t serious enough to turn into a relationship, they were friends above all and his plans had been cancelled last minute so he had decided to tag along.

Now, Lando wasn’t really a loner, quite the contrary actually but he liked to befriend the people who were a bit more closed off. Besides, he had had a lot of practice getting to know his new teammate for next year and so, as soon as he was left alone, he walked up to the first person he judged as socially awkward. That was her.

And the rest was history.

Two years later, whatever had started that night in December in a quiet corner of a party that neither of them should have really been there in the first place was long gone. Dead and buried under the pain that came with the conclusion that they couldn’t possibly work.

That’s the price that comes with being an F1 driver. And as much as they both would like to think that their relationship was full of happiness and love, the bad moments were nearly as much as the good ones. With him constantly gone and away for races and her too focused on her degree to be with him even when he wasn’t at the other side of the world made up for sure distraction.

But maybe it was because he wasn’t ready for a relationship and the commitment that came with him or maybe it was because she was new at this and didn’t know how to let him know how she really felt. But most probably it was the fact that they couldn’t communicate their feelings with each other, mainly because they weren’t used to having to do so.

Whatever it was, the outcome was the same. Her sitting alone in a quiet apartment while he was away on a winter vacation, a ski trip somewhere in the french alps with a lot of his friends that had grown to be her friends too while they were still dating.

She sighed, turning off her phone, not bearing to look at another of their friends' instagram story in which he was featured in. Lately she’d catch herself wondering how it would have been if they were still together. If they had fought for what they had instead of giving up once it all got too much.

She shouldn’t but on the nights she missed him a lot, she goes back and rereads their messages from when they were still dating. Sometimes she typed out paragraphs, asking him to talk or admitting that she never lost feelings and that she wants to try again, but she never sends them, because what would that do either way.

They weren’t good for each other. They both knew that. He was struggling with his own problems and he couldn’t find a way to let her in, really let her in. And then it was the distance too. He wasn’t present enough, and even though that wasn’t his choice, it worked against them. They weren’t what the other needed, at least not at that moment in time.

Besides, he had moved on. It hadn’t even been a full month after their breakup before he was seen out with a well known model. And even though she knew better than to believe whatever the gossip pages claimed, the idea of him moving on so quickly still hurt.

Her phone dinged with a notification. She immediately reached for it, momentarily hoping that maybe he had reached out, but frowning as soon as she saw it was just a text from one of her friends who were spending the holidays away from London.

For some reason a part of her wished that he would send her a message, saying merry christmas, maybe even asking her how’d she been. She knew it was wrong, and that it would only reopen old wounds but she couldn’t help but want a sign that he still thought about her from time to time, that he hadn’t forgotten him completely and that he still cared.

But even if he called, she didn’t know if she would be able to answer. He had put her through so much, not that he intended to, but it only proved that they weren’t right for each other.

It had been a hard decision to end things with lando. Because she loved him, she really did and she knew that he did too. But they weren’t what the other needed. In another timeline, under other circumstances they would have been perfect.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to cry. She shook her head, getting up and making herself a cup of chamomile tea, before settling back down on the couch, this time wrapped in a blanket, and turned on the tv ad pressing play on Love Actually, laughing a bit as she thought about lando had called it a dumb movie when she forced him to watch it with her around this time last year.

Eventually, she fell asleep right there on the couch, empty tea mug on the coffee table and with the movie playing in the background. She could almost feel the ghost of his arms around her, rubbing her back and murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as she fell asleep.

And just as the ending credits started to roll on the tv, her phone screen lit up with a notification of an unread message.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #formual one #f1 #mclaren #curseofhecate #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 1 year ago

Text

If you are a movie fan and haven't read the book yet, here are some irrelevant details from the book

Henry owns a cardigan

Arthur and Catherine meet on a Henry V play (which they named Henry after), which Catherine went to see and saw Arthur playing. She "shook off her security to disappear into London and dance all night".

Pez listens to kpop, and he got Alex into it

Nora watches drag race and got Henry into it

Henry is an Elton John fan (actually relevant in the book)

Alex is a Hall & Oates fan

Alex wears glasses (actually relevant in the book)

Henry is described by Alex as having lots of moles

Bea is the rockstar girlfriend, at the end of the book she plays on a concert and everything. She plays the guitar and is always wearing a leather jacket. She also has a fat cat called Mr Wobbles. And the queen wanted her to learn violin “since it was more proper” instead of guitar. “Bea was allowed to learn both, but she went to uni for classical violin.”

During the turkey phonecall, Henry is wearing a peely face mask

Amy is trans and has a pansexual wife

(Actually relevant) Catherine was not off in another country the whole story, just battling intense grief for her husband's death, so she wasn't present in her children's life, so they felt as if they lost both parents.

There's no king, she's actually a queen, her name is Mary and she should die (she's so so much worse on the book than the king is on the movie)

David is a service dog

(Actually relevant in the book) June bought a teen magazine at 15 and 13 year old Alex would sneak into her room to stare at the magazine (and the picture of a blonde 14 year old British prince on it).

Bea is the middle kid, Henry is the youngest

Henry is canonically on therapy and on antidepressants (since the start of the book)

I don't remember if they mentioned it on the movie but Arthur was James Bond and died of pancreatic cancer.

Alex’s favorite Olympic sport is rhythmic gymnastics

Bea had an addiction problem when Henry was about 17 (as a way to cope after their father's death) and only got herself into rehab after Henry went to her and started crying about dad was dead and he was gay and scared so she couldn't kill herself. That's how he came out to her

Alex doesn't wanna be president at the end of the book, he starts law school

Henry favourite star wars is Jedi, Alex's is Empire

June is allergic to peanuts

Alex runs and runs to cope and clear his head

He did not know he was bi until after Henry kissed him. Yes, he had a friend with benefits relationship with his high school friend Liam, but he genuinely thought it was perfectly platonic and straight

Also he doesn't keep on touch with Liam after high school (their friendship just slowly fades away, with living so far and Alex being suddenly famous) but they reconnect at the end

Alex and Henry move in together on a brownstone on Brooklyn, eventually they marry (after Henry abdicates) on the lake house, they move to a farmhouse on Austin, they spend their honeymoon unpacking

Pez is lactose intolerant

Bluebonnet is June’s code name, Barracuda is Alex’s

Henry is a big Austen fan, and makes references to her books through the story

Amy knits

Zahra has a sister who recently had a baby

June forced Alex into dresses as a kid

Henry’s favorite food is a cheap falafel stand ten minutes from the palace

Henry really likes sailing

Shaan has a motorbike

Alex is allergic to dust

Henry keeps a copy of Le Monde, the newspaper from the day they were in Paris, on his room

Alex and Nora dated when Alex was 17 and Nora 18 but realized they were definitely better off as friends. When they are bored, they like to create rumors about their relationship

Alex makes tons of lists to organize

Alex wears chinos, and claims kakhis are for white people

Nora is very good at math

Alex grew up catholic

At the end of their e-mails, Alex and Henry quoted historical lgbt love letters

Nora’s one-bedroom is “full of books and plants she tends to with complex spreadsheets of watering schedules.”

Nora is bisexual and on the aro spectrum (not canon on the book than she’s aro, but Casey did mention it somewhere)

Arthur gifted Henry a telescope for his seventh birthday

The karaoke scene happens not while on Texas but in some club full of queer people. The whole group is there, Pez got them matching kimonos. Alex’s says Hoe Dameron, Henry’s says Prince Buttercup. Aside from Henry singing Don’t Stop Me Now, Bea sings Call Me by Blondie, and Pez sings So Emotional by Whitney Houston in a “shockingly flawless falsetto”.

The lakehouse confessions happens while at night

The Kensington fight (after the lakehouse confession) is much more dramatic, they don’t go to the v&a that night, but the next night. That morning Henry got up early, and brought Alex coffee when he woke up. They made up.

Also Alex takes his coffee with cinnamon

Alex, Nora and Henry are gen z, while June is a millennial

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ceilidho · 1 year ago

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Ok if this doesn't sound like an idea you'd be interested in then disregard, i don't want to bother you 🙂 BuT! It's been itching the back of my brain since forced throuple au and creepy-apartment!ghost has compounded it so:

Forced throuple but a sort of android verse with some body snatching horror thrown in for flavor. Reader's husband (Soapy boy) dies suddenly and in their grief a lot of stuff has gone into disrepair, so they mail order an android to help around the house and with crippling loneliness. The company sends Ghost, a refurbished security model now named Simon, and he ends up being pretty helpful despite the silent brooding. Hell, sometimes that even helps as scary dog privilege so you let it slide (big mistake dumby, that android is falling for you in the process of taking care of you ohhh no-).

But maybe Ghosts old security features make him super observant (obsessive) paired with his new "fix it" code make him come to the conclusion that, actually, reader could still use her husband and mail orders a Soap-bot-3000 without letting them know :O. Watch the horror unfold as Reader wakes up one morning to her VERY NOT dead husband in bed and both Ghost and Soap acting like nothing is wrong :)))), maybe some "Simon reverts fo Ghost" too as the story progresses

this is from awhile ago (apologies, anon) and so wickedly weird and cool :)))

androids that are so realistic and bodies so malleable that they almost feel lifelike, like they're flesh and blood. you never wanted to actually give in and purchase one because you have personal qualms with the idea of something so human-looking being programmable and subservient to you; it's just always felt wrong and borderline cruel, and johnny used to concur with you when you spoke about it. that was then though. years and months and weeks before the accident.

now it's midday on a tuesday and you can't even get out of bed. there are two weeks of dishes in the sink and the lawn is overgrown and the feral cats haven't stopped by in days because you haven't had the strength to get up and feed them. your voicemail's been full for days. your sister stopped by and insisted when she saw the state of your house. "at least for a few weeks," she pleaded with you. you can always return it when you're back on your feet. she's already ordered you one from 141 Labs before she's even out the door, making you promise to give it a shot.

when you open the box, you worry that you might've ordered the wrong model. the size of the android they sent you feels out of place, like he's meant for private military companies or as a bodyguard for celebrities. not depressed accountants who can't get out of bed because their husband died two weeks ago. but it's your name on the receipt, your address. so when his blue eyes flare neon when he's first activated and all six feet and four inches of him sit up in the crate (that had to be wheeled in by two delivery men, you recall with a small amount of horror), you wait patiently to introduce yourself.

maybe this one was sent to you because of the defect. he wears a mask because the only layer of skin on his face starts from the bottom of his face down. at first you roll the mask up only to shudder at the exposed wiring and metal where cheekbones should be. you roll it back down.

he comes with a name. Ghost. that's his model, you surmise from the lengthy instruction booklet you're provided. the whole situation feels weird at first; his presence in your house always catches you off guard, even though, you suppose, it's his house now too. you jump whenever you walk into a room and he's just there, silent, so large that you nearly always think Threat first before you recognize him. maybe it's not fully your fault. he makes no effort to signal his presence, moving silently from room to room when he helps carry out the garbage or swifter the living room. sometimes you catch him staring at the photos of you and johnny that still line the top of the fireplace.

you try to be equitable, insisting that he take the guest room as his own. Ghost won't hear of it, following you into your room when night falls; ominous. you have to lock yourself in the en suite to change, heart beating away because you know he's standing just outside the door, like a cat waiting to be let in. shaking hands drag your clothes down. you stare blankly at the door while you shower, fingers twitching when you pass a washcloth over your nipples.

you think there's something wrong with you. you're sick or something. you're sick or something worse because your husband died two weeks ago and the thing in your house isn't even a human and still your stomach clenches when you think of him waiting for you in your room, knowing that you're naked behind the door. it's taboo; it's not something that's done, at least not something that's spoken about. people don't sleep with their androids. recent widows especially should not be thinking about fucking their androids.

two weeks go by. you can't even think about johnny without wincing these days.

"he was your husband."

you look up. Ghost says it like a fact, not a question. you're in the living room sorting through insurance papers while Ghost vacuums under the sofa (he lifts the corner up with just a single hand; you swallow, throat already dry). neon blue eyes zip across your face when you look over at him. you wonder sometimes what he sees there, etched into the plains of your face.

"yeah." your smile is tight, pained. "johnny."

he looks back down to the framed photo in his hand, studying it. you wish you could ask him what he's thinking about, but you worry that would be just another privacy stripped. you can't ask more of him.

"what happened to him?" he finally asks, looking up again.

you feel it catch in your throat. "he, um - he." it doesn't come out. your nose stings before you can even try to get more out. you grimace, shrug instead. you try to smile again, but it's warped, unpleasant to form much less look at. don't ask, it says, whatever you do, please, please don't ask.

"you miss him?"

you blink at him, misty eyed. "ye - of course."

his eyes are so, so blue when he stares across the room at you. it's unnerving to look at; terrifying to find yourself under his scrutinizing gaze. what do androids even think about?

"I understand." he puts the photo back on the bookshelf and walks out of the room.

sometimes you catch him watching you too intensely; rare moments when he doesn't seem entirely mechanical. you wonder if one day you'll roll the mask up and there'll be skin there suddenly, a real flesh and blood person. it feels entirely possible some days. he moves too fluidly, has his own quirks and intricacies that seem newer each day.

you don't try it. the minuscule amount of professional space between the two of you is an absolute. you worry sometimes what you'll let happen if you ever let that distance collapse. already he sleeps motionlessly in the chair beside your bed, refusing his own room. he powers down with his eyes still open, the blue flickering away to a dark grey. it's only mildly reassuring.

when you open your eyes in the middle of the night though, he stares back at you, eyes dark and sightless.

you worry sometimes that you might have made a mistake, letting your sister talk you in to this.

it's the arm tucked around your waist when you're doing the shopping, freezing for a second before the hand on your hip squeezes and he pulls you towards the fruit and veg. it's the menacing stare from over your shoulder when a man approaches you in the checkout lane, offering his condolences (an old colleague of your husband's, he says) and an invitation to dinner. you open your mouth only for Ghost to answer for you.

"No." it thrums out of him, a different modulation. you stare helplessly as the man's face goes white and he makes an excuse to leave, offering you another lame apology.

it's the hand that tugs you out of the store by the back of your shirt, Ghost's voice rumbling like he doesn't know you can hear him. saying something about how you don't need another man in your house. that you had johnny and now you have him.

#i didnt get to the soap part bc this became long...sorry #ceil writing #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2

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overtaken-stream · 10 months ago

Note

Do you have any writing plans involving Katakuri or the Big mom pirates?

Monster's Voice Is Sweet To Hear

Charlotte Katakuri x F!Wife!Reader

! !NSFW! !

This is from ao3, last year, sorry for any grammar mistakes, as well as my different writing, this is also the first time I wrote filth, aside from the love-making in the Ace fic from Ao3. I want to write something for him but the ideas are just not coming to me. I also didn't specify readers race. Just that it's a female and tall/stronger then a human since we all know Big Mom won't just toss away Katakuri and make him marry a boring human with no specialties. this could work on all shapes and sizes of reader, chubby and skinny.

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Rarely in the dead of night, a monster such as Katakuri needs love. It's something you can't say no to. After all, how can you deny that unnerving voice of his.

Warnings: Size difference, POST-WANO SPOILERS, multiple rounds.

In the quiet night, where only the humming of your voice is heard.

Light from the cake-inspired lamp bounces off the pink walls the shadow that's in a silhouette of a woman falls onto the giant bed in the center of the room.

On a quiet night, a married girl takes her jewelry off and places it in one of the drawers the magenta bureau contains.

You stand up from the chair, getting closer to the bed. Getting out of your clothes and putting on a modified (F/C) nightgown, you straighten the hot pink details running over your tall figure as you lie down on the heavenly bed.

Only at the sound of a door opening did you quickly get under the blanket. The sound of metal and leather rubbing against itself notifies you of the person who walked in before they can even say anything.

``(Y/N).``

``Katakuri.`` You shyly show your face from the covers to see the sight of your husband of 3 years now, even after all this time you can feel the blush creeping up your face, no matter how long you will never get used to seeing a man that's able to look down at you. That stoic and firey gaze always unleashed the butterflies deep inside your belly.

``I apologize for startling you, I've seemed to... Be distracted lately.`` This was his way of saying I forgot to knock on the door. With much time you start to learn the ways of Katakuri's speech patterns. Start to recognize what words his pride was holding back even from you. Apologetic wasn't one of them. It isn't like he's trying to hide something after all you've seen his biggest weakness in action multiple times, gobbling all kinds of sweets. But never have you thought forgetting was something Katakuri was capable of. It wasn't until after the incident at Pudding's wedding involving the Strawhats that Katakuri's mask, which he had been carrying since marrying you (probably much, much longer than that) truly shattered. Thanks to his younger sister Flampe not keeping her mouth shut about how horrid her big brother is physically and then about his treatment towards her, after what she did. The brat even tried to approach you to run her tongue about Katakuri. Your husband.

Honor is off the table when faced with a person with that kind of mindset. Never mind the respect when facing a worthy opponent.

``Mind if I join you?``

``No, not at all.`` You smile as you watch him carefully get out of his uniform. Never did you imagine you would smile at Katakuri, compared to the sad bride and groom the two of you were. The new life treated you both kindly, it wasn't fast but it wasn't slow-paced either.

The stiff and awkward interactions turned into small conversations about interests and they blossomed into what can only be fondness. The road came with its fare-share of bumps, and both of you dived head first in this with only your families in mind, ready to throw away what little freedom both of you had for your parent's satisfaction.

At the wedding ceremony, walls were built. Walls that cracked the more time you spent with each other.

``Y'know, Luffy was announced as an Emperor today.`` You fill in the silence. Knowing Katakuri's favorite topic you slide in the information.

Katakuri stops mid-changing and raises his head at that. He had told you about Luffy a couple of weeks ago, finally emptying his head to you about the topic he was trying to tell you the moment he returned to your room injured. You didn't push him back then.

The time will come when he'll bring it up. You would tell yourself. It's his calculations of reactions that hold him, little insecurities eating him up and even if the conversation was late, you are happy that he was finally opening up. To you at least.

``Is that so?``

``Yeah, it was in today's newspaper. It said he defeated Kaidou, impressive huh?``

You watch as he nods his head. You debate for a second if you should tell him the next sentence, but he is her son, after all, today he dedicated himself to the library (A time he cherishes since it happens so rarely. A battle with the Straw Hat sure tired him out. You wonder if it's a blessing in disguise sometimes. If it is you wouldn't be surprised.) and judging from his lack of knowledge about the feat Luffy accomplished, you might as well tell him now...

``Surgeon of Death and The Eustass kid from the Worst Generation were involved... They defeated Big Mom.`` At that, you can feel how the temperature drops in the room, his movements to put the clothes back in their place slowed down until they came to a stop. It almost felt like time had stopped.

``I've heard about that. All the commotion in the palace this morning was from Perospero's call. They needed a backup to retrieve them.`` He says as the heavyweight is lifted off the room, letting go of the fabric he was holding onto, the time begins to roll once again.

You don't bat an eye at Katakuri's actions and his casualness. You doubt he would mourn his mother.

You quiver as the blanket is thrown off of you, the chill biting your arms and chest before he joins you on the bed. You fix your body position as the natural warmth his body carries sends shivers down your spine. Your back facing his chest as his giant hand creeps up to cradle your waist.

You shy away or try to. But the moment his fingers softly graze your pelvis, a tight knot starts developing, his shy yet soothing and careful touches sending the blood up to your face.

He's mindful of his heaviness, even if you are taller than a human should be, more tolerant and powerful, he treats you the same as he would to his child siblings, with feather-light touches. It's instinct at this point. It makes you nervous. Makes you red and sad, as well as happy that he also wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Habits that differentiate you two are rare. Since most of them are dependent on higher-than-an-average-human height.

``Is this okay?`` his open eyes travel over your face devoid of any skin color except red. You nod.

``...May I?`` The awkwardness in his voice is precious. Sweet as a mochi should be. Not how a monster's should be.

It makes your heart skip a beat and your core to pulse.

The impatience takes over when he's leaving lingering touches closer and closer to where you would like the itchiness to go away. The temptation to grab his hand and drag it to your genitalia is strong. Biting the bottom lip you feel his hand cup your crotch, and it's a feeling you'll never get tired of.

He shoves the gown's bottom piece up to your belly button, getting the cue you grab the (F/C) silky cloth. It's tacky but it was one of the more subtle ones that Brûlée has picked for you.

You shift your left thigh to the side when the tips of his finger flex on top of your clitoris, a thin layer of fabric stopping him from intruding, yet he is still making you pulse and drowning you in the electric shock of pleasure. The fingers slowly run over it, again and again putting no pressure behind the movement.

When his right-hand digs behind your back, your flushed face barely turns around to ask him what he is doing.

``Changing position...`` Katakuri says as he carefully scoops your neck between his forearm and upper arm, his left hand grabs onto your right hip.

His show of strength as he gets you on top of him in a second, leaves your knees shaking. At first, you lay on his chest with your back pressed against him.

Even with your superior height he somehow manages to make you feel as if you were a human, it makes you doubt your reality for a millisecond, his right hand balancing you and the other one going down your body a bit too fast, your suspicions are confirmed by the impatience with which he tosses the blanket off of your bodies. The room temperature now no longer poses a threat to your skin.

This time he isn't as slow with his actions, leaving the undergarments on, he rubs up and down your slit, feeling its warmth escape onto his sweaty hands.

The quiet room was momentarily full of little gasps and beating hearts of both parties. A squeak leaves your mouth as you rise from your position on his chest, leaning on your elbows that are still... On his chest. The coldness that sudden separation brings on your back is forgotten as you look down to where Katakuri is making laps around you. The moisture grows in seconds when he presses his thumb on your clit, slowly rocking it sideways and tightening the knot deep within you.

You try to bite the bottom of your mouth to not let the noises escape but as Katakuri flattens his hand so his index and middle finger are sliding and tickling your entrance, the task to stay quiet becomes very difficult. You feel the way he snakes his second hand up your breasts while the other separates the undergarment from your folds. Little moans sneak past your lips as you look straight down, the bulge that shows from underneath your thighs just makes your heart beat out of your ribcage.

Katakuri lays his forehead on your shoulder as he feels the wetness coating the surroundings of your entrance, he knew the smaller hands were coming before feeling them pull down the owner's panties, momentarily stopping for her to take it off before he continued infiltrating it. His right hand fondling with your breasts squishing them but not rough enough to hurt you.

For a split second, you felt the pain of the stretch, arching your back and tossing your head over his shoulder as Katakuri's other hand played with the silk-covered nipple, he pushed his forehead down on your cleavage, it wasn't in his intentions but the size difference was really making your mind mushy.

You could feel him shaking from below you as you rest on top of him, closed eyes and clean mind absorbing your movements.

For a couple of seconds, you lay like that, panting breathes and already sweat covered. He won't move. He won't hurt you. He'll give you time to adjust.

Your hand lands on his crimson hair, fingers run through the short pink layers devoid of grey. It startles him, eyes snapping open he looks to his left shoulder where you are resting your head and meets his beloved's smiling face staring back at him.

Pink dusted his cheeks and as his heart jumped, his mouth opened and closed, this nervous feeling is shameful to him. The big brother Katakuri was still getting used to his new-not-so-new feelings towards new-not-so-new his wife, and expressing them to her face turned out to be the most complicated and difficult part. (Aside from Brûlée, she has seen him at his worst. It's a new feeling, a new type of embarrassment he hasn't experienced with anyone, not even Brûlée. The thought of this ever getting out almost frightens him. It frightens him.)

At last, he chooses to look away as you chuckle.

``C-can you move now?`` He nearly forgot.

``Are you... Sure?``

``Yeah, now c'mon... I was so close...``

He continues his motions with soft pink shades over his face, and slowly the two fingers slide deeper into your gummy walls. The clenching makes him wish it was some other part of his inside of you instead of his fingers. He listens as hisses leave your lips from the painfully nice stretch, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes being wiped away by Katakuri's other hand that took a break from playing with your breasts, he feels his boxer get tighter when your legs shake around his massive thighs, for a second he feels glad that you aren't super tiny, it makes this feel like the first time both of you did it. It holds a special place in his heart, the lovely touches have never been that satisfying. And every time you take your time to show affection to him during it- he falls further and further in love with you. Even if he doesn't show it, or return them, he appreciates the gestures.

He knows it's time to start the actions of love and that you would certainly never reject it. It's the childish fear keeping his head and eyes locked away during them. Is he shy? Maybe. Does he wan't to return the gesture? Some would think that he doesn't.

The whimpering noises fill his head as he finally went in knuckle deep, he lifts his head from your cleavage and brings your face closer for a kiss, eating the deep moan that leaves your mouth when he pulls out his finger and pushes it back into the warmth. Watching with open eyes how your eyebrows point up in pleasure twisting into a lustful picture he'll love for the rest of his life. The fact that he is the only one who's allowed to see it makes his head dizzy with what other expressions he could steal from you.

He slowly fastens his pace, making and leaving your walls a mess before he gets back in and fixes it with his fingers, finding that spongey spot was easy, having it memorized Katakuri curves his fingers upwards and pistons into it, barely taking his fingers out.

One after another lustful noises (now louder than ever) escape before you can bite your tongue. At some point, drool started coming out of your mouth. Eyes closed you can feel how Katakuri milked your sweet spot brutally, making your cunt weep and sting oh so impossibly delightfully.

His hand and your thights are all wet now.

``Just aah little m-more...!``

You were so close. So incredibly close.

The moment Katakuri forced his hand to dig deeper in your cunt, to get past the line of his knuckles, and pushed upwards into your belly, forcing you to arch for him harder was the moment you were seeing stars.

Your closed eyes were going into your head and your wide mouth was slack as he held your hip with one hand and rubbed your clit faster than ever with the other one. Throwing you off the edge and finally loosening the knot that was tied at the start, slick now not-so-unclear dribs down your slit, he doesn't let you have a break, hand still accompanying you even after your orgasm.

You don't complain.

He slowly pushes your pelvis down with his forearm to meet his hips, not slowing his fast-paced rubbing. Your moans are now as free as they can be, but you limit yourself, wanting to hear little grunts and deep slow moans from Katakuri. You honestly think you could cum from his voice alone.

He's beautiful you think.

His eyes are closed, the furrowing thin eyebrows holding onto the sweat drops that are covering his face in a thin layer of gloss. His eyes are closed yet he seems so concentrated to make you cum again. The vein in his forehead is on full display for you. His naturally long eyelashes adorned his hooded eyes.

``You're Beau...tiful... Kata...``

The way he hides his mouth in your cleavage and not in your shoulder because of his big size, the way he is avoiding eye contact the moment you whispered those two words. The way your heart shattered, is like no other pain you've felt. Because this boy is so... So incredibly sad. You want to kiss the pain away, the worries to be crushed under your tall figure. You want to shield him because he deserved so much more than this family.

``Sooo pretty... C-can you look...at me?`` Exhausted, you reach out.

You don't pay attention to the second orgasm, too busy complimenting him about his beauty. You miss how he is rutting his clothed hips right on your naked ass. You don't miss how he turns his face to the opposite side from you, you don't miss the red-colored ears as you hug his neck. Biting his ears as you are getting closer yet again. You notice how he's gone quiet the moment you praised him. How he is listening to your moans right in his ear.

Suddenly he crashes his hips into you, stinging sensations of him losing grip on his strength lays mockingly on the prints he has branded on both sides of your hips. Even if you were drowning in an indescribable pleasure you didn't miss the way he threw his head back, he almost roars a held-back-moan as wetness spreads on your ass. You don't have to look down to know that both of you guys's cum is wetting the sheets below.

Did he cum by pleasuring you?

Shit... That's so... Hot.

You've known there were ten million ways to love somebody and this. This was one of them.

Katakuri relaxes on the pillow behind him, coming down from the high he tossed both of you in, your arms still around his neck. He opens his eyes looking down at your face, It's a mess really, with sweat and hair sticking on your forehead, swollen lips from the previous kiss (he spends extra seconds looking and feeling the breasts resting against his own skin) but it doesn't matter to him, all he sees are the fruits of his labor. He finally removes his hands from your hips, his gaze falling on a now-covered-by-your-nightgown spot.

Did he leave a mark?

A giggle escapes from your lips before you can stop it, earning a playful glare from his direction. What's so funny?

``Aha-I'm sorry, it's just. You're so red!`` He looks through you, unfocusing his eyes before turning his (now red from embarrassment) face away from you.

You rub your cheek against him, feeling the stitch scars that lead to his mouth hole.

``Awh! C'mon don't hide from me!``

``...You're getting brave (Y/N)...``

``I don't have to be brave to call my husband beautiful and handsome! Plus you're so cute right now!``

``I'm not cute...``

``Sure you're not.`` You're pushing it. You are sure as hell not sure where this confidence came from but you aren't complaining.

Putting your hand under his chin and turning his face toward you.

His eyes settle on your lips before you pull yourself up to make your (S/C) lips land on his monstrous mouth. Like a beast, he doesn't close his eyes, unlike you.

Yet again choosing to make up for the time he closed his eyes during the sex. Staring into your wet eyelashes.

His left arm drags you so impossibly closer to his chest, in a hug while his other hand puts a strand of (H/C) hair back over your ear. When you try to pull away he follows your lips down. Cherishing the strawberry residue that the lipstick left.

A couple of moments last of you two in a romantic kiss before it turns into playful pecks across each other faces. Katakuri was careful with his fangs, still getting used to having someone get as close as he was to the white knives. He calls them and judging from the sharpness you can't exactly call him wrong.

It lasts like that for more than necessary. The sweet touches turned harsh from him is a normal feeling for you, pain tolerance is one of your specialties. It's in your blood. There is nothing he could do from the outside that could hurt you. From the inside, it's a different story.

It's the reason why Charlotte Linlin chose you to be the bride for her second son.

``He's a monster in humans skin,`` She said.

``Better have that scarf around you at all times Katakuri, don't frighten the soon-to-be bride.`` She said at one of the tea parties she had invited your family over.

It was humiliating for him to hear those words, let alone in front of a different kingdom's royal family. Those words were enough for you to have an opinion set on Big Mom.

And Katakuri too. It was respect, you respected him for putting up with people like his mother daily. Another thing to add in the similarities chart besides the height.

``Don't you think your genetic powers would make lovely children for my boy here darling? Wouldn't that be wonderful?``

You pity the children you have to give birth to. Because you know it will happen.

Her piercing gaze and a change in tone was the only reason you nodded your head. It was how the entire party went actually, with you acting like one of Big Mom's homies. Bobbing your head to every compliment she would say about you and your powers.

Maybe that's what left a sour taste in Katakuri's mouth. Why he avoided you for a couple of months after the wedding, he probably saw you as a fragile bimbo who was swayed by fear.

You would hate to say it but the truth is always hard to swallow.

It was what you were before the wedding and after. No doubt about that. The fear of upsetting a bomb that was Big Mom terrified you to your core. You could take Katakuri ignoring and avoiding you but you could never say no to them, the strings she had on your family were too tightly tied around their necks to risk it. Not to mention the thousands of people's lives each of your family member represented.

``The more you fuck around the more you're gonna find out`` As your diplomat father would say in all kinds of situations. It's just that in this instance it wasn't comedic.

It was a psychological thriller. And fucking around you couldn't.

It was a sad start to your relationship with him, an unwanted marriage both of you were against at first, maybe in another lifetime one of you would have had a voice to protest it. But for now, you enjoy the soft embrace of his arms around your shoulders. A loud banging of his heart against your ear.

The chill of the aftermath leaving your body and replacing it with a sticky feeling between your crotch and the smell of sex that wasn't visible at the time.

``Well then, don't you want to clean yourself up?``

``No, I don't.``

``W-why not?`` Usually, Katakuri loves his cleanliness, organization, and tidiness. He showers after coming home, often he's the one running to the bathroom with towels in his hands before you can even process that you've arrived home.

``...I just don't want this to end.``

``... You...`` And you thought Katakuri had run out of his surprise factor. It makes you want to toss your feet in the air with tiny kicks, giggles and everything, it makes you blush.

Seriously? Why are you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on her upperclassmen?! Have you lost all your marbles in you, woman?! Where is the royal blood?!

You can practically feel the inner, secondary or tiny voice in your head yelling at you.

``Y... You do...?`` Unbelievable.

A nod from him is all you need.

``Y'know, we don't... Have to end it...``

``What?`` God his obliviousness makes you want to strangle him.

``We can... Continue it instead...I-i mean... If you... Want..?`` You run your index finger over his chest, tracing the tattoo with half-lidded eyes and lips in a kissing position. If this isn't lustfull, you don't know what is.

``...``

``... We can?`` His shocked eyes leave you once again, speechless.

``Of... Of course, we can! If you have any energy left that is... What made you think that we couldn't..?``

Sex is something that rarely happens between you and him since both of you most of the time are sent out for missions separately, however, If your memories aren't lying to you there are a total of four times (not counting this one) that you guys have slept together. How many times did he want to cuddle after sex? 2 times? 3 times?

Such a bad wife you've been to him.

WHAT DON'T THINK LIKE THAT!

Your questions go unanswered. Instead, he gently turns you onto your back, his hands balancing himself like a pole, they shut off your field of vision 'till you can't look anywhere instead up.

And up you look.

You think it's a sight any fair lady would go feral over. So what if you've seen this many times before, it never fails to make you nervous, the confidence dripping off of him, even if shaky eyesight proves just how unconfident he is.

Swoon over him you do.

The feeling you got at the start of the night coming back ten times stronger and filling up your heart until it's back to the pace it was before, this time maybe even shaking sideways for dramatic or. romantic effect.

Your breathing quickens as his head follows his body that was leaning on his thighs which were usually heavy with accessories of any kind, mostly following his gothic style with minor changes. Now he stands on top of your legs with his free-of-any-weight ones, caging yours with his knees. He has a charm in the way he travels his hand down on your skin, giant fingers ghosting over the most sensitive of places. The size difference isn't much but staring at your squished thighs and comparing it to the thickness of his knees makes your breath hitch, gulping you look up towards his face.

Katakuri's sharp crimson eyes glimmer down at you.

He had never once failed to make you feel so unbelievably small under his gaze, you find this exact moment perfect to take off your sticky nightgown that's wet with substances from both of your bodies. It turns out to be a good hiding device for your face, too bad it only lasts a couple of seconds before Katakuri gets suspicious.

Once over your head, you toss the (F/C) fabric somewhere on the floor. Presenting your fully naked body to him.

You don't know when or how he got the boxer off, but he now stands in all of his glory. One would think he was flexing his muscles, and he was. With how heavily Katakuri was breathing, you would have run your fingers up his tattoo if he didn't grab your legs first, taking them out of his leg jail, it was an awkward struggle to pull them over his thighs but he managed to not stretch it out for too long.

It felt so right, you against him fitting like puzzle pieces, your warm legs clinging onto his hips that are the perfect fit for your long legs.

It's your fantasy coming to life and so is his.

Katakuri pulls your hips near his pelvis to get you in a comfortable position. His fingers play with your now relaxed entrance. His other hand strokes his sex in front of you.

Shyness is thrown out of the window.

``I'll... Be slow.`` He always says that. But he can not help the roughness come into play the moment you get used to having him inside you.

You shiver as his head presses against your folds, hiss as it's slowly getting past the cold surface and into the warmth your insides bring. You hear him let out a grunt of his own. The shakiness of his hands on your hips calms the arch your back has been put into.

Katakuri pushes in with slow motions.

He tries to distract you will little strokes up and down your arched back.

You try to not tense up, you really do, but his fingers weren't enough for you to have been ready for his cock. It has that extra length and thickness his fingers weren't capable of having.

The sting leaves you panting and watery-eyed.

Katakuri looks down at you, completely stopping his actions when the walls around his girth close his pathway to bliss.

He lets you relax and adjust to his length. Looking at your face when you wipe your not-yet-spilled tears. Feeling the walls grip and loosen around him makes him close his eyes, ignoring the sparks of pleasure that are signaling him to just rut into you. He turns his face back to you, opening his eyes.

Katakuri doesn't ask you to relax, he knows you're already doing that and he knows you'll signal him to move onward, there is no need to remind you of what's obvious. So he stays quiet, humming and touching you elsewhere across your body, a gentleness he didn't know was capable of, coming forward and dripping honey over your pain, sugarcoating it with his lips that are kissing up your neck.

You put your hands over his shoulders, feeling the pain go away only for it to be replaced by numbness. calming down you nod your head against his scarred cheek.

``You can go on... Now.`` And he does. Slowly and surely with the help of the previous round. He bottoms out.

Your walls surround him, while his grunts surround your head. Both of you stay still for a moment, him going back to kissing your shoulder while you hug his neck, lost in ecstasy.

The world is summed down to only him and you, even if you are running your eyes on the walls of the room, you're still breathing in his leftover cotton cologne, lingering on his skin for just a bit longer.

He starts moving, god he starts moving.

Rocking into you slower than ever, stickiness in your crotch area goes unnoticed. The feeling of him moving and dragging the pleasure away only for him to slide back in, adding the rubbing against your clit with his shortened pubes is soul-shattering in a pleasing way, making your brain mush and your mouth full of unholy sounds.

Sweat dribbles down the side of his face still buried in your shoulder. He is not a man who leaves hickeys. Even though It's impossible since he can't exactly hurt you, although he enjoys leaving marks with anything else, they don't last long, only a couple of minutes before it's back to the way your skin was. But he likes having your signatures on his back especially since that's the only place covered by his jacket in the public.

Even now you leave tiny trails with your nails on his back, not strong enough to break the skin but just enough for them to look like a part of his tattoo gone wild. it just sums up more blood on the southern side of his body, getting him harder than he was before.

It's too much for you when he starts setting a fast pace, his hips meeting yours midway through your grinding, it's too much you tell yourself.

The way he is holding his wide torso with his elbows right beside your shoulders since you didn't let go of his neck since you grabbed it. You feel silly, sticking yourself onto him this way but he doesn't have any complaints. Even if it's too much how you cum yet again with shaky legs and slick dripping down your crack and onto your arched back. Too much of him rocking into you. The mattress below you squicking and rocking with his thrusts. Not only the mattress, but his thrusts also drag your entire body with him, meeting him halfway through his pulling. Too much moaning coming from your side, it's too good.

Too good to tell him to stop.

You can't tell when you came again, the shakiness is blending in with his hips crashing into yours, and you can't tell what is your natural body's doing and what is Katakuri making your body do.

Him finding the sweet spot was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted him to find it.

But judging from the electricity hitting you full force again and again and again, making you cry out in all kinds of movements to push him away, you can't be sure.

Katakuri takes advantage of your vulnerability and pulls you away from him so you could relax on the light pink pillow almost swallowing you whole. Allowing him to thrust at a slightly different angle, an angle that also relieves tension from your back.

He straightens himself, now standing on his knees as he looks down at where your bodies are connected, he lands his hands on your hips setting an almost inhuman pace you aren't able to keep up with.

Not with your body and not with your mind.

He pays no attention to your face, you've had enough of that before. Instead, he watches as his hands slam your hips to him, and your poor clit swollen and sad, lies helplessly. Taking him with no problems.

``A-ah little more..`` he moans out. You want to cry at how much he wants to drag this out.

You can tell by the way his hips stutter before calming down completely, going back to the slow pace he did at the beginning.

It's too much.

``Katah-kuri, please!-`` Your voice cuts off by a scream that left your mouth when he slammed his hips back into you unexpectedly.

You can hear him chuckle lightly at your trembling figure lying under him.

It's like he is teasing you and himself.

Tears drip down your face as he repeats it a few times more, before grinding his pelvis when fully entering you cleanly. Your abused cunt beats against the few pubes it has stuck in the wetness surrounding it.

He doesn't let your wobbly legs slide down his thighs, holding them harshly and not letting your bottom parts get away from him.

You can feel it before it comes. The way a vein in his dick starts pulsing and throbbing. Filling your insides to the brim.

You don't look down, instead, you pay attention to Katakuri's Addams apple bobbing up and down in his thick throat accompanied by sweat drops, the way his heavy jaw comes up and down, and the way his eyes are closed and tensed as are his eyebrows. How the other shoulder free of any tattoo (one which you were previously gnawing on) is red colored. It's shiny with spit, tears, and sweat.

It's as far as you get before your heart finally calms down, forcing your eyes to close and your body to pass out, exhaustion finally catching up to you. The last thing you see is a blurry figure of Katakuri looking down at you.

His worried voice calls out to you.

And here you thought you could endure a monster's sweet voice.

#Katakuri x wife reader #wife reader #Katakuri x wife!reader #one piece #anime #one piece spoilers #one piece x reader #.my writing.#op katakuri #katakuri x you #katakuri x y/n #katakuri x reader #anime x reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago

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since the shinazugawa brothers are my skrunklywunklybadopsies can i request a softyan!platonic!Sanemi and Genya hcs with a littlesister!reader who's mitsuri's tsuguko, basically a total sweetheart and proof that life is easier when your drop-dead gorgeous and have a fuckload of suitors but god had to be fair and make her a literal dumbass 😭+ tell me that Sanemi the type of brother to scare the everloving crap out of any dude that flirts with his sister

(anyways hope u become the most fabulous bitch around with a smoking hot partner who's like iguro and fat stacks of cash 💕💕😍😙)

Abkwiejsndjsk. I want Obanai so bad, don’t remind me. Leee criiiii, but anyway. Sanemi and Genya, right? Okay, I’ll try to the best of my capabilities for you, darling!

Yandere! Platonic! Demon Slayer Scenarios: Shinazugawa Sanemi and Shinazugawa Genya

The Shinazugawa Brothers were already way too overprotective over you from the beginning, this situation has only elevated their protectiveness… they lost everybody, besides you. Sanemi feels obligated to be with you and Genya all the time as you two’s older brother and Genya feels required to guard you in assistance of Sanemi

Neither brothers were okay with you becoming a slayer but they couldn’t resist your begging and your excitement over being a slayer, hurting you in anyway is not something they’ll tolerate so they end up reluctantly letting you join Genya to final selection as Sanemi becomes the Wind Hashira

When the Love Hashira, Mitsuri takes you under her wing as her loveable Tsuguko and accidentally ends up bringing in so many suitors for you after making you stand out so beautifully, your older brothers flip their shit and almost try to pull you out of Mitsuri’s care

Sanemi and Genya have a very similar view on you. They both love you so much and they can’t stand you getting taken away by anything so they both develop a maddening obsession with protecting you from the world itself. The world is a danger now, and they both will make sure they won’t lose their only remaining sibling

Sanemi chases away the many suitors that try to woo you from the sidelines as Genya pulls you from them physically, asking why you want to be wooed by some weirdo. Yes, both of the brothers have been following you and stalking you as often as they possibly can with their sanity-destroying mindset over you

Genya is very clingy and will never let go of you no matter what, whilst Sanemi just guards you like a aggressive father wolf guarding his babies. To them, you are far too young to get a husband and because you’re a slayer, those men could potentially be trying to exploit you

The Shinazugawa Brothers are equally delusional over your view on them, they genuinely believe on a shared level that you love them dearly. They can’t recognise the way you stare at them afraid of their extreme possessiveness and overprotectiveness over you. You can barely recognise Sanemi and Genya as your big brothers

Sanemi doesn’t want either you nor Genya to be a slayer but he is attachment over you two has grown to such a intense degree that he can’t keep himself away from you two anymore. You are his life and love, he needs the both of you with him and he will do whatever he must to keep that

Your formerly beloved big brothers never won’t ever try to ruin your beautiful, cheerful nature by making you find out about their dastardly tricks as your optimistic personality, in reality, keeps these brothers teetering at the edge of sanity but neither can stand the fact you’re very dimwitted, despite being so skilled and incredible

Sanemi doesn’t only just scares anybody that tries to talk to you, he sends death threats and raises his katana at them. Genya isn’t as bad as Sanemi, he is just more touchy and shovey over you as he will never let anybody touch you and barks them away

“Dokusha, don’t do anything stupid! Okay? I can’t lose you nor Genya, my life runs on you two… just… don’t mess up! I will make that bubblegum-haired idiot guard you if I must!”

“Little sister! Wait! Why are you going to go on a date with that guy? He seems a bit dangerous… you should just stay with me and Onii-san forever, you don’t need a man anyway!”

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Pola Negri (The Wildcat, Men, A Woman Commands)—Legally obliged to submit her as she's from Poland, but also it is one of the greatest stars of silent film, both in Hollywood and Europe, so she has to be here. The og femme fatale and a fenomenal dramatic actress. And just so hot in this 1920s vamp style. Obviously her career slowed down in America with the introduction of sound movies, because of her accent and low voice. I'd say her voice is so much hotter thanks to that, but I'm just a simple simp. But then she made movies in Germany, and after the war she was even offered Gloria Swanson's role in "Sunset Boulevard'' but she declined. She was probably bisexual as after romances with Charlie Chaplin and Rudolf Valentino in the 20s, since the 1940s she lived with her 'female friend'.

This is round 4 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.]

Sophia Loren:

im submitting her in honor of my dad bc she was the first celebrity crush of his he ever admitted to me and my sister :) and he was right. shes so pretty

Absolutely, drop-dead sexy, also a hard working, extraordinarily talented actress who didn't shy away from the less glamorous roles to gift us some gritty, memorable performances

JUST LOOK AT HER Y'ALL

Very smart and beautiful, the characters that she played (I mean those in the movies that I put in the previous question) are as strong and determined as her which I think adds to her hotness.

Big in the chest, snatched in the waist, pretty in the face 😳

Sexy, beautiful, deep. A real star.

Her performance in "Man of La Mancha" is just so very captivating. Dubbed as "the Italian Marilyn Monroe", she looks beautiful in any movie and at any age.

She starred in films as a sexually emancipated persona and was one of the best known sex symbols of the time. She is a great cook and her filmography is immense.

Pola Negri:

A tempestuous green-eyed vamp of the silent screen, she tantalized with both her onscreen and offscreen romances. Rocked a Polish accent - well, once there was sound! A true proficient at promoting herself and using all possible tools to do so - from a dead Rudolf Valentino to a cheetah named Teddy, the latter of which she brought to a press conference.

First European actress to be contracted by Hollywood! She survived poverty and illness to become The Queen of Tragedy, she divorced a count to date stars like Charlie Chaplin and Rudolph Valentino, then spent the rest of her life living with Margaret West in what could have been a romantic relationship.

I don't have much to say about her actual career, personal life, etc. but I just need everyone to see how hauntingly beautiful her face is. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since the first time I saw her LOL like its pretty clear why she was such a star

#pola negri #sophia loren #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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sakumz · 10 months ago

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a/n : tw reader has family issues, slight gore

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[ g. kaldo x fem reader ]

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you slam the telephone down in your office. kaldo slightly jolts from the sudden noise as he placed the daily newspaper he was reading back on the small table next to the couch. taking one quick sip of his honeyed coffee before making his remark.

" what's got you so worked up in the morning? "

" morning? it's already noon! " you scold as you turn to face him, the tears on your eyes barely noticeable.

" they should call you the angry cane, " he jokes as you slump back down on your chair.

" what are you even doing in my office? "

" just chilling, I'm free. there's really nothing for me to do here, I could go home if I wanted to but I'd feel bad for the rest working their asses off. anyways enough about me but let me guess who was on the phone! your sister right? " he had a hand on his chin before snapping his fingers together.

" yeah... "

work was your escape from the family house you grew up in. magic was everything in this world. if your magic was stronger everyone would possibly respect you right? or so you thought. growing up as the big sister and middle child of five siblings. you're bound to be compared to your older brothers. it was unfair if only your parents didn't value one gender over the other. your brothers weren't as great as you. your first brother works in the bureau of magic but you're a divine visionary, also part of the bureau of magic so why? why does your parents still expect more from you? his wife recently gave birth to his second child. your second brother, step brother, is peacefully living his life as a successful bakery owner. both your younger siblings were in high school, both in their first year, one's your biological sister and the other is your half sister or not half but step sister. you're barely 23 and yet everything feels so far apart.

" so incompetent. " you mumbled as kaldo tilts his head.

" why? " you can't help but whisper as tears starts to prick your eyes. kaldo stays silent.

" I'm a divine visionary yet what more can she expect from me? I've done everything I can to be the best... I've even slayed that one dragon beast, earning a title... I've saved countless of people. so why? " you can't help but bawl your eyes out. kaldo gets up from the couch as he approaches you, rubbing slow circles on your back.

" you're more than the best, they don't say it but if they're not proud of you then I am. nothing can change that. I think you're incredible. " he says, calming you down.

you left the house and had been living by yourself ever since high school up till now. you don't have a reason for being in a place that haunts you for not being better than your older brothers. your sister called you earlier, inviting you to the family's dinner party tonight.

" kaldo... come with me to my family's dinner tonight, " you look up at him.

" your step mother will be there? " hearing those words, you can't help but glare at him. your real mother had been dead since your sister was born. that step mother of yours, doesn't even look one bit like you! isn't it obvious she's not your real mother. kaldo did visit your family house once, all the portraits of your real mother were replaced by her face. there's barely any family photos hung on the walls either.

" yeah. " you spat as he smiles.

" am I coming as your co-worker, best friend or potential lover maybe husband even? " you blush at his words.

" c-c-co-worker! "

after work, you and kaldo made your way to the family house. not bothering to change out of your work clothes. nervousness didn't bother to eat you. you felt oddly confident, having kaldo with you. if there's bloodshed today, you're certain it'll be your victory. kaldo feels happy he's going in the house again. he talked to the others about visiting the grand family house and no one was surprised he finally managed to visit it. everyone having gone in once as well but this second visit will make him special! if only he knew the madl family was a close partner to your family's. that means orter and his brother used to come over frequently to play. he didn't know that, of course.

" welcome home. " the house butler greets you, surprised to see you bringing a plus one, a male too.

" good to see you Mr butler, " he smiles at the nickname you've given him, barely remembering the last he heard you calling him that. he takes your coat and kaldo's as he hung it on the rack, near the entrance doors. before walking you to the dinning table.

everyone was quiet for a moment, taking in your appearance and the man next to you. your father sat at the end of the table, your step mother next to him and your first brother on his other side. everyone has taken their seats and the vacant ones were the one directly facing your father, the seat next to it or the two seats next to your step mother.

kaldo pats your shoulder. you take this as a sign to sit. you took the seat directly infront of your father as kaldo sits next to you, next to him was your sister.

everyone starts to eat, the table was quiet. you were surprised how kaldo didn't say anything. the food was a distraction, how you miss the cooking of the house. truth be told, the only good parts to living here was the workers who serve the family. your father clears his throat as the attention shifted to him.

" when are you, y/n going to get married? " he questions as everyone turns to look at you. you drop your fork on the plate as a surprise to the question.

" isnt it obvious, she's dating the guy next to her? " your step brother jokes as you cast a spell controlling his shadow to slightly tug at his leg, making him hit the table. all the plates, glasses and bowls clanks to the movement.

" orter madl would've been the best one for her to marry, " your first brother chimes in. his wife next to him, nods.

" big brother i want to marry him, don't say that! " your step sister says as she slams her hand on the table.

" ew, I doubt he'll even bat an eye at you. remember when he came over to watch the divine visionary candidate test, he said you were incompetent and far from his type. don't try your luck, " you can't help but laugh at what your sister said. everyone turning back to you.

" sorry, but orter would rather stab himself than be with you. " you wipe the tears from your eyes as kaldo smiles.

" anyways, I can't see myself with orter. we're best friends and I wouldn't want to be in an arranged marriage with someone who didn't get the freedom to pick who they'll marry. especially one just to tie the family together. " you finish the sentence as you look directly at your father.

" well we didn't say you'll be in one, marrying the orter madl gives you some sort of high title. you should take it, " your step mother says.

" I'll be fine. besides kaldo here, will be my life long partner. " hearing you say that, got kaldo grinning from ear to ear.

" that man, doesn't look like kaldo gehenna. " your step brother says matter of fact. " maybe you've casted a spell to make some other guy look like him and then brought the man over. "

" that's a pity, if it's true! Hahaha, " your step sister laughs.

" be quiet, is it true? you, kaldo gehenna will marry y/n? " your father says, turning to look at the man.

his eyes open, smiling at him as he says, " yes, and insulting me won't go unnoticed. you shall receive punishment for that. I could get you expelled from easton academy and I can burn down your precious bakery. "

" don't do that, say something! y/n! " your step mother shouts as she slams her hands on the table, dropping down a glass next to the floor.

" shut up, this is beyond my control and why should I control the actions of my beloved? " you question as this bubbles up her anger. she summon her wand, casting a spell to pick up a broken glass to throw it as you. it cut your cheek, you felt the blood run down. you stand up from your seat.

out of anger, you threw the glass next to you at your father. aiming for the wall behind him, he was unfazed. everyone looked at you. have you gone crazy? that's the man who created you with your late mother. the man who spends money on you, lets you live in his house.

" y/n, sit. " your father ordered as you stand, not moving an inch.

" no, thanks for dinner. I'm sorry dear sister. I can't stay for long and if I could, I would have done so long ago. you know I'm strong. I've defeated countless of monsters, that doesn't change the fact I can take the life of humans too. " your step family, shudders at the thought. a cold blooded bloodbath with them? maybe together with your father and big brother too. you turn your back against them. kaldo stands and places a hand over your back.

" she'll be in good hands, family in law. "

" who said anything about letting you into this family? your father work hard raising you and all you do is act like a brat. you're all bark and no bites! if only you were like your big brother. " your step mother shouts as she stands from her seat.

" bark and no bites? " a shadow came over her neck, holding her up slightly away from the ground.

"h-h-help me dear, " she calls for your father as she tries to grab his shoulder.

" drop it, y/n. " your father says.

" yeah, stop it, " your big brother speaks.

the shadow disappeared, dropping her to the ground. she wraps one hand over the place where the shadow was at, little did she realise there was a burnt imprinted left.

" are you sure, you still want to marry that mad witch? she nearly took her mother's life! " your step brother says, as both the step siblings rushed to their mother's side.

" she's not my mother. " you mumbled out loud.

" I don't care, what she does. even if her hands are bloodied. even if she'll kill me. she's mine and I'll still love her. " kaldo takes your hand to plant a kiss, turning over to look at them all.

" let's go, " you say to kaldo as you both took your leave.

walking around the now empty streets, it was already late into the night. you didn't feel one bit of guilt, the glass cut healed immediately after you left. you held kaldos hand eversince you left the house. he didn't want to let go and wished you didn't pull away. now, standing on a bridge. the soft water noises, wind blowing, prettily lit starry sky. you can't help but be drawn to those.

" sorry, " you apologise as kaldo stands closer to you, shoulder to shoulder touching.

" that was a hell of a dinner huh? " you start, sighing. if your real mother was still around. she'll definitely embrace you like she always did.

" don't be sorry, I'd kill too if I had to keep up with all of that till I'm finally free from those horrors. she hates you because you look so much like your mother, " he places his other hand to your cheek. stroking it slow and tenderly.

" no I mean, sorry for making it seem like we'll marry. unless you really want to, " you placed both hands over your mouth.

" HUH!? so you don't intend to be my lifelong partner? were you going to marry orter and prove them right? " he babbles as you laugh, putting your hands by your side.

" I really love you, kaldo gehenna. " you confessed, his eyes shot open and his eyes met yours, so full of love and adoration.

you lean close, nose brushing against his as you shut your eyes and give him a kiss to his lips. you feel his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer.

pulling apart, to catch your breath. you don't fail to notice his silghtly red face and the soft smile that doesn't seem to go away.

" I promise to be your sword and shield. I vow to be yours. I love you so much, " he takes your hand to his lips, placing a kiss as he drags you along.

" say, if we're together. can we skip the dating parts and just get married? " he says as you can see your house draw closer.

" yeah let's just get married, we've already known each other quite long too. "

" great, the wedding will be next week then! " he cheers as you unlock the doors of your house. you gave him a soft smile as you gave him one last kiss to the cheek before bidding him goodbye and a get home safely.

kaldo couldn't sleep that night, he was over the moon. the girl of his dreams finally said yes to him and had felt the same way as he. he couldn't help but call ryoh that night, gossiping the night away. ryoh too, was so happy for the man but gods he wished he'd shut up. he was tired from work and was looking forward to cuddling the night away with his wife.

" please free me. I have a wife to attend to, " ryoh mumbles out loud, catching the flame cane off guard.

" my, its so late well see you tomorrow and thank you for lending me a listening ear, goodnight ryoh. " he hangs up momentarily, forcing himself to sleep.

the next day as he walked to your office, he heard yours and orter's voices. he decides to wait by the door as he eavesdrop on the conversation.

" after the dinner, your sister called me. she said it was a disaster and they were expecting you'd marry me but you chose kaldo? " orter was leaning on the door, arms crossed after the other as you sat by your desk.

" you wouldn't want to marry me either. besides I just can't imagine you as the father of my children. I want a guy who knows how to wow his kids! " you laugh at the idea of kaldo being the fun parent.

" i see, you're all grown up now. well if there's anything I can help you with, let me know. I might even babysit them once or twice. " he offers, pushing his glasses up his face, not failing to notice the smile on your face.

" what a great best friend you are! do you want a hug? " you beamed as orter pushes himself off the wall. remembering the last time you gave him a hug, it was bone crushing. you managed to manipulate and manifest his shadow into 3d! making that give him a hug.

" no, " he opens the door as kaldo pretends he's just got there.

" get back to work, don't just flirt with her all day. " orter scolds as kaldo sighs, handling him the coffee he prepared for you. he'll just come back with a better and sweeter batch for you he thinks as he walks away dreadfully. he hears you laugh as he walks away, making a smile crawl up his face.

#sakumz.pdf #mashle x reader #kaldo x reader #kaldo gehenna x reader #mashle kaldo x reader

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anonymous-dentist · 9 months ago

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Part Four of the Catboy in the Village AU

Part: One | Two | Three

Growing up on the battlefield, Cellbit's meals consisted of two things: cold mushroom soup, and unseasoned human flesh. No set times, only eating when he had managed a kill. It was a reward: no killing, no eating. Simple, and very effective at turning him into the monster he would grow up to be.

Prison meals were scheduled... more or less. During the second guard's shift outside of his cell, he would be given half a loaf of bread and a rusty metal cup of browned water. That was all he got, because he didn't deserve any more.

Now? Cellbit has gotten soft. His husband likes to cook, and it turns out that Cellbit likes to watch his husband cook. If he's in the kitchen when Roier is, he isn't walking away hungry, and it took the first two years of their marriage for Cellbit to get used to it.

The castle, though. The castle is worse.

Mealtimes are strictly scheduled. Breakfast is at eight in the morning. Lunch is at one in the afternoon. Dinner is at seven. If Cellbit and Roier aren't in attendance, they're to be dragged to the table kicking and screaming.

The food isn't even that good. It tastes like the sweat and blood of the poor oppressed farmers being forced to work for a monarchy that would happily throw them face-first into another war should one start. It's probably poisoned, too. Worst of all, it isn't Roier's, so it's just kind of terrible by default.

So it's always as such: Cellbit and Roier sit at one far end of the table next to each other. The queen rolls her eyes and tries to start a conversation that Roier politely engages in and Cellbit ignores. Cellbit doesn't eat, not even when Roier gives him big sad eyes and does that cute pouting thing he does with the voice and the face and the everything.

Today is no different. The breakfast dish is small, because apparently the Gato Kingdom doesn't do breakfast the way they do back home in the Águila Kingdom. Açaí, sure, whatever. It isn't Roier's cooking, so Cellbit won't eat it.

Roier does the little pouting thing, turning in his seat to face Cellbit and hooking both his hands over Cellbit's forearm. His eyes get huge, and his face gets sad, and he's so cute, Cellbit's heart might burst!

"Gatinho, come on!" he whines. His head tilts, awww. "You're going to starve to death, and you won't even be a handsome corpse. You'll be all-"

He bugs his eyes out and practically unhinges his jaw as he makes an utterly visceral groaning-choking-rasping-moaning sound.

The knights at the door all exchange disturbed looks.

Cellbit wants to kiss his husband now.

So he does. He takes Roier's chin in his hand, and he pulls him in for a kiss that Roier comes away from moaning sinfully enough to make a cleric drop dead.

Cellbit swipes his thumb under Roier's bottom lip, raises his hand to cup Roier's cheek.

"You make the sweetest noises," Cellbit sighs. He smiles as Roier rolls his eyes.

He turns his gaze from his husband to his so-called "sister", who looks two seconds away from coughing up her açaí.

"Speaking of noises," he says, "when were you going to tell us that our prison is haunted?"

Sensing a lost capital-'M' Moment, Roier grumbles and turns back to his breakfast. Per his request, he's gotten a plate of eggs and a small bowl of fruits to eat alongside his açaí. It's not quite breakfast like it is at home, but, well. Nothing about the Gato Kingdom is like it is at home, and it sucks.

The queen's spoon scrapes harshly against the bottom of her bowl as her arm jerks. Some of her açaí splashes up over the edge of her bowl and lands on the lap of her expensive-looking dress, good.

On a dime, all the guards in the room stand at attention. Their armor clanks, and their weapons flash rainbow in the sunlight streaming through the dining hall's enormous stained glass dome roof.

"Okay, first off, this is not a prison," the queen tensely says. She adjusts her grip on her spoon, holding it in a way that Cellbit recognizes from the way he's always held his knives. "This is a castle, and it is my home. Our home, if you ever want to consider it as such."

Cellbit nods. "Absolutely not."

"And that's fair! This is a lot for you! But it's an option for-"

"It really isn't, but this isn't about me and you. This is about whatever happened last night, because, really, if you had told me your castle was haunted, I would have been, like, ten times less likely to try and escape on the way here."

Roier nods and swallows a mouthful of papaya and covers his mouth and says, "It's true. He loves this shit. He's been trying to invent a ghost-in-a-bottle for years."

It's true. Most of Cellbit's potions are his own recipes, because most alchemical recipes require ingredients that only noblemen can afford, and he's been broke for his entire memorable life. He didn't care that he married rich, he didn't want to use Roier or his family's money just for potion ingredients. He can trap faerie essence in bottles for a quick dash of healing, why can't he trap ghosts? It's the next step, obviously.

"And I'm going to," Cellbit insists. "I just need more time!"

"Yeah, well, you've got all the time in the world now," Roier says. "You know. Because you're kidnapped."

He gives the queen a pointed look.

The queen looks two seconds from shoving her spoon into her own eye. Maybe she should do it, it would be more interesting than yet another argument about the lost prince.

She slowly lets out a very, very stressed-sounding breath. And then she smiles, all teeth, fangs and all. (Lucky. Cellbit had his fangs filed down in prison upon being arrested.)

"You like ghosts?" she asks. "Me, too! We have an entire section in the library on the paranormal. I can show you later, if you want."

Oh, ew.

Cellbit feigns interest. He leans forward in his chair and forces his ears to perk up and swivel in her direction.

"Oh, really?" he asks. "You'll have to take me there! And then I can take one of those books and break your skull open with it."

He smiles, all teeth.

The queen's face falls into frustration. Her ears turn to the side; aggression.

"Oh, fuck you!" she snaps. "I'm trying here!"

Cellbit drops his own enthusiastic expression and sneers, slumping back into his seat. His ears turn to the side; aggression.

"Nobody asked you to," he says. "You could let us go right now and we'd all be much happier, I think."

"I can't!" she shouts. She stands, eyes blazing. Her hands slam down on either side of her bowl hard enough to shake the whole table. "You are so stupid!"

Oh, so she's allowed to be angry?

Not to be outdone, Cellbit jumps to his feet and grabs Roier's spoon right out of his hand and stabs it into the table so forcefully it sticks straight up when he lets go.

"I'm stupid?" he laughs. He shakes his head, bares his teeth. "You're the one chasing ghosts, and not even the right ones! Your castle is fucked, and you're more caught up in your dead brother than the demon possessing your house!"

Roier's eyes widen. "Demon? What the fuck?"

"My brother is not dead!" the queen argues. "But he might as well be! He was a genius, and you're- you're just stupid! No wonder it took you so long to break out of prison, you had to wait for someone to think of a way out!"

Cellbit's ears ring. He can't see- is the room shrinking, is that it?

His hands twitch by his sides, long-lost claws flexing.

The queen sniffs and turns to leave.

"I'm going to solve the enigma myself," she snaps. "Since you're too stupid to do it, apparently."

Roier makes some little sound, but Cellbit can't hear it above the noise in his ears.

"You miss your brother so badly, huh?" he feels his mouth say. "Well! Why don't you just fucking join him?"

He's moving before he remembers how, and he's on the floor beneath Roier's body within seconds.

Cellbit screams and claws at the floor and reaches for the retreating form of the queen, and- oh, his face is wet, he can feel it as Roier flips him over onto his back and cups his cheeks firmly.

"Cellbo," Roier says, "enigma, Cellbit. Enigma do Cellbit. Okay? No murder, we can't go to jail. We have to get Richarlyson. And Pepito. Can't do that in jail, right?"

Cellbit's hands scramble to hold Roier's wrists.

"I hate her," he hoarsely says.

Roier nods. "Me, too. She sucks. But. Enigma. There's a mystery, yes? And she thinks you're too dumb to solve it, but we know she's wrong. You can kill her, but that'll be it. But if you prove her wrong, you can do that twice."

Twice. He isn't the prince. And he isn't stupid.

Cellbit sniffs and nods. "I'm- she's stupid. I told her she's stupid. She's too caught up in her own shit. Not very queen-like."

"Nah, she's bad at this," Roier agrees. His thumbs brush the angry tears out from under Cellbit's eyes. "But... so what? When you prove her wrong and we get to go, we'll never have to see her again."

He leans in close and whispers against Cellbit's lips, "We'll get to go home."

Cellbit's eyes flutter shut.

But:

"You're just manipulating me," he mumbles.

"Is it working?"

"...Yeah."

"Good."

'Good', indeed.

But Roier does have a point. Murder would feel good for the moment, but Cellbit would rather die than see his husband behind bars. And. And he needs his kids, he misses them so much.

So. No murder.

But there is a mystery or two at play.

One: why is the queen so convinced that Cellbit is her lost-slash-dead brother? Who told her to look for him, and how did she find him, and how does she know so much about him?

Two: what the fuck is up with the demon in the castle? Because it has to be a demon, no ghost is that powerful. Where did the demon come from, and why hasn't the queen gotten rid of it?

The queen may think that Cellbit is an idiot, but he really, really isn't. He just has a few issues. He's a genius, humble brag, he can solve these mysteries, and he will solve these mysteries. Then he and Roier can leave, and they can get their kids back from Bad, and Cellbit can be with his family again.

All he has to do is not murder the queen.

How hard can that be?

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To be continued

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#catboy in the village au #reminder that cellbo is a VERY unreliable narrator at all times in any au #ESPECIALLY when it comes to dealing with his sister here #meanwhile bagi... she's scheming lol

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