#MY HUSBAND FINALLY CAME HOME FROM THE WAR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazbinsimp777 · 3 days

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Hey

Can i please fanfic (Hazbin Hotel) Adam x fem reader x Lucifer

the reader is in a relationship with Adam, lucifer is intrigued by the reader and starts flirting with him

how does Adam react when witnessing this scene (Lucifer flirts and accosts the reader but the reader is not interested in him)

❗the reader does not know about Adam's connections with his previous wives (due to his pride, please use it)❗

LUCIFER X READER X ADAM

A/n: I love this concept so much! Thank you for the request anon! <3

✅️ Loyalty ✅️Protective and Violent Adam ✅️A little spice (end) ✅️ Fluff

!Warning: Reader is read as female and LONG before the battle in the season finale!

You are Adam's third and final wife, he had met you when you two had met in heaven. You only had died recently, having a good life on earth and genuinely being a good person. At first, you were very hesitant of Adam when he had asked you out. Seeing him only with his fuck boy personality, how he proudly bragged about how many people he has hooked up with.

Despite being in heaven and being the first man.

Nevertheless, your colleagues at your job had encouraged you to do so. As to being known for rejecting suitors who had asked you out. With much hesitation, you had accepted his offer. You recall being very nervous on your first date.

Soon you came to realize, under all of that masculinity, he was a total sweetheart to you. Behind closed doors of course, he started to become more trusting towards you. Coming to the conclusion on his true intentions, eventually, the two of you started dating. Which had lead to you having an wedding ring on your finger.

At that moment, Adam had given you the title of, "My sexy as fuck wife." Sure, you were never too keen on that title and Adam going around and announcing so. But you knew that only met Adam was proud to call you his. People had informed you of his past marriages, which lead to many questions in your mind.

Why hadn't he told you about these past relationships? As his new wife this puzzled you, was he not supposed to tell you everything? When confronting your husband about this, he suddenly had a change in attitude.

"Oh it's not important babe! I got you now and that's all I need!"

Noticing he obviously did not want to talk about his past, you had left the topic alone. Wanting to be a good wife, you promised to never ask about it again.

That is, until Lucifer questioned for an meeting with heaven regarding the growing population of hell. As one of heaven's biggest leaders, Adam was required to go. He tried to convince Sera to not go, but his request came denied. Adam was complaining to you all day when he was forced to go. You, for some support, asked Adam if you can, by any chance, accompany him to this meeting.

In your shared home, while Adam was bitching about this, you approached him, taking off his mask, cupping his face, "Maybe I can come with you. I know how much you dislike Lucifer, I can perhaps be your support or source of comfort."

Adam's eyes widened, his lips turned from a frown to an smirk, "Babe...." He started, picking you up, placing you on the counter, "You are a fucking genius! This could be my chance so show him my sexy ass wife!" He said, placing himself between your thighs.

You placed your finger on his lips, "Or...you can call me your beautiful and intelligent wife."

He rolled his eyes, "Yes Hot Stuff you are that too." At that it was decided, you are going to be at Adam's side of the meeting.

At the day of the meeting, you and Adam were called to meet in Heaven's meeting room, where as you can guess, the meeting will be held. For an odd reason, you were nervous, finding yourself fidgeting with your fingers. Sitting beside Adam, who he himself looks uneasy, it was quite obvious, even with his mask on.

"Babe?" Adam called you, turning his head towards you.

"Yes Adam?" You asked, turning your chair to the right, facing him.

He sighed deeply, "Stay beside me, whatever you do, do not leave my side." He warned.

This request confused you, "Why so?"

Adam groaned, "Just don't leave my fucking side okay!" His voice was firm and assertive. Not aggressive, but to the point it got his point across with you.

"Okay Adam." You said, turning your chair back toward the table. Continuing to fidget with your fingers. It only took a short moment until the door swinging open rung throughout the room.

Standing in the middle, Lucifer you assumed. The short man had a white top hat, a snake and apple wrapped around it and an cane with an apple on the top of it. Wearing long black boots, red eyes and blonde hair going back. You had to admit, he wasn't anything you would expect, very much shorter than you had pictured him. And he had no nose?

Nonetheless, Adam's grip on your hand had tightened, wrapping around your hand. Noticing this, you squeeze his hand, as an act of reassurance. Giving him a nod and smile. Looking down, you seen a small smirk appear on his face, his masked eyes softened.

The other angels had not arrived yet, you Adam and Lucifer being early for the meeting. Which meant, you all three were alone for the time being.

"Ah! Adam! We meet again." Lucifer walked up to Adam, swinging his cane in hand as his boots tapped against the floor.

"Lucifer, meet my hot wife right here, she is sexy, did I say she was my wife?" Adam bragged, showing you off to Lucifer.

Which was not out of character for Adam, but this was....a bit much from Adam. Why was he so determined to show you off to a man you hand't even met until now? Regardless, you weren't complaining, you loved it when Adam showed you off.

Lucifer's eyes scanned you, looking up and down, as if analyzing you. In which he hummed, putting both of his hands on his cane, "She is a looker I'll give you that." The short man smirked, taking a seat across from you. Adam was suprised that Lucifer had not mentioned Adam's past wives.

Something that was unknown to you or Adam, is that Lucifer was intrigued with you on first sight. Taking in your attractiveness, when he had seen Adam's arm around you, he instantly knew you were his new wife. But that did not bothered him whatsoever. Adam was giving Lucifer the most dirtiest glares known to man, occasionally glancing at him while he was talking to you.

In a matter of what seemed like hours, the other higher ranked Angels have arrived. Taking their seats, annoying the meeting had begun. During the whole meeting, Lucifer kept darting his eyes at you. You felt his sharp gaze on you, making you uncomfortable, not wanting to make this meeting worse for your husband, you brushed off the feeling.

The meeting had taken two hours, you and Adam were on the verge of falling asleep due to all of the boredom. You didn't even know what they were discussing, Adam didn't even say anything, what was the whole point of him coming in the first place? This truly did irritate you!

"Adam, a word please?" Sera called Adam, standing from her seat to the door. A serious expression written on her face.

Your husband looked at you with pleading eyes, then back at Sera, "Can we just talk later Sera? I need to stay with my fucking hot wife." He tried sounding normal, but his voice kept cracking.

"No. This will not be negotiated." Sera commanded.

You got up and gave Adam a kiss on the cheek on his mask, to give him more confidence. "I will be fine Adam, I promise, go do what you need to." You assured him.

Adam groaned, "M'kay Sweet Cheeks, be right back." After that statement, he went on his way, walking beside Sera. Turning to look at you occasionally before the doors had closed.

Now, it was just you and Lucifer in the meeting room, it did not help that he was seated right in front of you across the table. With a hum, Lucifer pulled his chair, walking around the table towards you. You felt your blood go cold, eyes widening, why was he walking towards you? Surely you are no interest to the sin of pride, right?

A tap of his cane hit the ground echoed the room, being the only source of sound.

"Tell me Dear, why are you with Adam?" He leaned on the table, putting a finger on your chin.

With pure disgust, you gently take his finger off of your chin, "I love him very much and because we are married." You told him, "And I see you are as well." You point at his own wedding ring.

Lucifer simply brushed this off like a spec of dust on his coat, "Oh that is not important gorgeous." He leaned on the table with his arm, "You do know Adam's history with his wives right?"

"Not much at all and I do not intend to know more." You said firmly, tapping your finger against the table.

"As it is known knowledge is power Beautiful, and I know you must be smart as you are divine." Lucifer held your hand, giving it a gentle kiss.

"Ew! As I have said before I am a taken woman!" You slip your hand away from his grasp.

"What the fuck is this?!" Adam exclaimed, staring at everything in disbelief. Rushing to your side, using his wing to pull you closer to him, staring at Lucifer with pure fury and hatred.

"What? Me and your supposed wife were just having a conversation between adults." Lucifer said.

"Listen here you nose less fuck! Stay away from my wife, you know what? Get the fuck out of here, NOW!" Adam commanded, pointing to the door.

"Why? Afraid I might take this one too?" Lucifer teased, both of his hands rest on his cane as he gave Adam a smirk.

Your eyes widened, "Adam, what is he talking about?" You ask.

Adam's face went tense, his masked eyes widening, "N-nothing hot stuff, I uh- don't know what he is talking about." He stuttered, not even looking at you.

"Too prideful to tell her-" Lucifer got cut off by Adam punching him, Lucifer was not able to defend himself in heaven. Due to his abilities being taken away from heaven.

This action from your husband has taken you by surprise. There have been times when Adam had been jealous, he would simply tell them off, maybe a punch or two. And you two will be off your way.

But this was different.

This was fill with many emotions. Ones with pure jealousy, rage and fear.

Every punch he gave Lucifer was personal, Adam was laughing like an maniac, "Your in MY house BITCH!" He kept saying with every punch. You had to get Sera and other higher ranked Angels involved.

With being dragged away from the sin of pride, Adam kept lying, "You get the fuck away from MY WIFE YOU SLITHERY FUCK!" After that, Sera demanded Lucifer to return to Hell. While you were right next to Adam once he had calmed down.

You were compressing his wings, which always calmed him down when you did it. He had his arms crossed and a cute mad expression on his mask, grumbling curse words under his breath.

"Do you mind telling me what was that about?" You asked softly, but in a gentle but demanding tone.

"Fuck..." Adam cursed under his breath. Looking down at you, "Do you really have to know?"

You only nodded, "As your wife, I want to know. Not out of curiosity, but because I want to know you better. So I have a better understanding of you. Just know I will love you no matter what." You assured him, putting your forehead against his.

"I am so lucky to marry you...." Adam started, then that is when you two shared a kiss. You felt Adam smile against your lips. He told you everything about Lucifer and his past wives. In which you comforted him and assured him, Lucifer would never steal you away from him. Or any other man for that matter.

"You know, you standing up to Lucifer was kind of hot and sexy as fuck Babe." Adam whispered in your ear, "Makes me want to fuck a baby in you." Adam said, gripping your ass.

"And wholesome moment ruined." You muttered.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

A/N: I hope this was up to your standards Anon! Request are open, terms in pinned post!

Drink water and Stay Healthy Lovlies! <3

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #adam x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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starsreminisce · 15 hours

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His jaw tightened. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile.

SJM sets up Lucien's struggles point-blank, and it's nuanced how she conveys that Elain does need and want him.

It wasn't until Lucien came to the Night Court, living under the same roof, that she finally left her room to meet him.

It wasn't until Lucien despaired over her longing for Graysen that she offered to him the revelation that she could hear his heart through the stone. She engaged in conversation beyond expressing her desire to go home.

It wasn't until Lucien was about to leave to find Vassa that she tried to stop him. When she saw the blood on his clothes, she asked him if he was alright. She chose to follow Lucien and Feyre after the war was over.

Elain even voiced her needs clearly. She expressed a desire for sunshine, symbolizing her mate’s father, who epitomizes the sun. When she expressed a longing to return home, Lucien not only heard her words but also sensed her despair and devastation.

SJM wouldn't have given Lucien these thoughts and then a mate whom she described as deeper than a husband, a bond so permanent, only for Elain to be like, "Yeah, Lucien's right."

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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relatablepicsofromantorchwick · 1 year

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HOW WE FEELIN BOYS?!?!

#rwby spoilers #spoilers #volume 9 spoilers #I CAN'T BELIEVE IT HAPPENED #FUCK YEAH #HAHAHAHAHAHA #I've been holding out hope since volume 3 #I was almost ready to give up #BUT IT HAPPENED #WE WON #ROMAN NATION RISE UP #MY HUSBAND FINALLY CAME HOME FROM THE WAR #(yeah yeah I know he was just an illusion leT ME HAVE THIS)

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gojuo · 1 year

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#MY HUSBAND WHO FINALLY CAME HOME FROM WAR....... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#I LOVE HIM SSOOOOOOÒÒOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE I NEED HIM BACK LL #GOJO COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU .. !!!!!! 😭😭😭😭#BAKMA BANA #gojo #jjk

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queers-gambit · 1 year

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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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cosmictheo · 1 month

Text

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 | 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐝-𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐧

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: feyd-rautha was used to have whatever he wanted, it was well known, but so were you; what you desired, was already yours. and what you crave right now, is him. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!reader —word count: 1.5k —warnings: death, mentions of killing, blood, fighting (yk the usual feyd), just the reader and feyd-rautha being horny and a slut for each other.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

yes, i'm finally back!! dune part 2 has dragged me out of my cave and has given me inspiration like never before.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. Everyone knew it, perhaps the whole galaxy was aware of his very eccentric... preferences and appetites. He was well known for his immaculate and animalistic way of fighting, of destroying anyone who dared to present themselves as his enemy, of anyone who would dare to challenge him. But he was also honorable, proud and loyal to his beliefs, perhaps too self-confident for your own liking.

But every strong man had a weakness, a weakness that could bring them to their knees, to yield, to be left vulnerable. You were Feyd's weakness, rather, his strength, his fortitude, the fire in his veins, the beating of his heart. And it was quite strange and utterly unimaginable to think that someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen would have any feelings at all, there were those who firmly believed that he didn't even have a heart, not even a soul, that he was a demon in human form, a ruthless and bloodthirsty beast, the worst of the worst.

But there you were to prove otherwise.

It had been your idea to actually take him as a husband. Your parents disagreed, of course, for they thought you would be better off alone, after all, you were one of the strongest women alive, you didn't need any man or woman by your side. They called you the Golden Dragon, someone with too much power for this world, you had abilities that the world could not really understand yet, connections with the universe that could not even begin to be explained, the last descendant of one of the most ancient Houses, one that had vanished in time, detached from battles and senseless wars for power, a House that was recognized by that flag with the roaring and menacing red dragon on a golden field. That ancient beast that many thought extinct... until you came to Giedi Prime riding one.

And you had arrived just on his coming of age day, where his favorite ceremony was battles, of course.

You watched him fight the Atreides men from your seat, your mother and father sitting at your sides, watching him as well, all in silence. Your eyes followed his every move, not even pausing for a second to watch the other poor men being annihilated, no, for your attention was solely on Feyd-Rautha, noting the predatory nature of his steps, his precise and powerful movements, eyes darkened with delight, eager for more death and blood.

"He is a good warrior" Your father commented looking at him in awe as well.

"Too much so, I'd say" Your mother added in a naturally stern voice, distrustful dark eyes, observing the gory spectacle.

"He was born for it" Your father continued to comment, turning his head so he could look at you for a few seconds "For slaughter and death. Only to bring that."

"I think he's cute" you finally stated your opinion, voice low and serene, not even having the audacity to look at your parents, for you didn't have to look at them to know that they were both giving you horrified and scandalized looks now.

Your father muttered your name in a warning tone of voice.

"He would look good in our home. He's built for fighting and protect, just like us." You explained, finally detaching your eyes from Feyd-Rautha, who had just killed the last Atreides standing, unleashing a wave of applause, praise and cheers from the audience. "Don't you think so, father?"

Your look was almost defiant, and yet composed, and your father took it as a challenge, but he would never be so foolish as to show any disagreement with you, for what the dragon princess desired, she had.

So, after sharing a short glance with your mother, he gave you a short nod of his head.

"I do."

And so it was settled.

Feyd-Rautha, for his own part, saw you and knew you were meant to be his. He had heard of you, of course, his uncle used to insist that he must behave himself once your family arrived, for you were worthy of having the full respect of House Harkonnen, and that losing you as allies was not an option at all. So behave he did... or at least he tried to.

"I dreamed of you last night."

Was the first thing he said to you, both found in one of the large, dark halls of his home, just a couple of hours after his victorious fight in the arena. The Baron and your father were in an important and pending meeting in which neither your presence nor Feyd's was required, because the whole focus of it was the two of you, and a possible marriage to ensure the alliance and heritage.

His eyes were barely distinguishable with the all the thick blackness surrounding him, his pupils dilated with desire, hands clasped behind his back, as inflexible as ever. He had put his all into making a good impression, his uncle had ordered him to, and Feyd was quite obedient when it came to the Baron's wishes. He was so loyal to that foul man that you thought it was something no better described than adorable.

The thing was that, as powerful and menacing as he was, he was just another man, another pawn into this colossal game of power and thrones. And you felt rather pity for him.

"Na-baron." You greeted him somewhat pragmatically, turning fully towards him, golden eyes gleaming even amidst all the darkness through your gold mask. "It was a good dream, I hope."

"(Y/N) Pazuk, princess." He just took the satisfaction of deliciously savoring the name of your House, pronouncing it in that husky, deep voice of his. He also had the courage to move closer to you, rising from the wall and stepping cautiously, holding your gaze, looking down on you as if you were prey, a small helpless animal under his looming shadow. He then reflected, thinking about choosing the most suitable words... and the most appropriate ones "It was a very good dream."

You were in his territory, his planet, you knew it well and so did he, you were walking straight into the mouth of the hungry beast. Everything that was there belonged to him, he controlled it all and saw it all.

And everything he was seeing now was you. And he was intrigued, captivated even. Because he usually encountered boring and vulgar people, people who were nowhere near his level, people who he liked to torture and make bleed to death. And the thing was, you happened to stand on his level, and even higher.

"Tell me more." You had the courage to order him in a soft tone of voice. He knew instantly that you were testing him, he was smart and knew how to read people well... but you, you were different, he could see it too, you were much more complex than other people. And he was delighted.

A hint of a phantom smile tugged at the corner of his lips just as he stood in front of you, posture rigid and dominant. "You showed me the way. The right way. The way of victory, the way of life."

You swallowed spit slowly and he noticed it, for his eyes descended to your throat for a few moments before rising again to your face, analyzing every expression that passed through your gaze, every gesture of your lips, every sign you allowed him to see.

Then he twisted his head slightly, face turning somewhat mischievous. "You think I'm scary, princess?"

Now it was his turn to test you.

He watched as your lips parted before responding, raising your voice with pure confidence, naturally, holding his dark gaze. "I think you're quite the opposite really, Feyd-Rautha."

He was silent for a few moments, long moments in which he simply gazed at you intently, with his full attention on you, on your body, almost as if he was looking at your pure soul.

"You are my destiny." He finally uttered, you could hear how his voice had wavered more for softness than harshness this time. "Show me the way, my princess."

You managed to feel the warmth of his body against yours. For someone so cold and distant, his body was hot and warm like fire.

"Are you going to ask for my hand?" You ask in a small voice, feeling suddenly intimidated by his closeness. There were very few who dared to stand so close to you, yet there he was, threatening your personal space. "Because here I am, na-Baron."

Before I could answer you anything, you spoke again, twisting your head slightly, barely narrowing your eyes. "You think I'm scary, my lord?"

He had never been so profoundly proud and thrilled by his title as he was at that moment, when you slowly modulated it with your tongue like a purr, your voice tastefully savoring it.

"I think you are beautiful." He immediately responded. "And I want you to be mine."

And so, fate had done it's work.

#dune #dune part two #dune 2 #dune movie #dune imagine #dune x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha one shot #dune one shot #cosmictheo

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maidragoste · 2 months

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Fatherhood

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

More of Daemon's Wife au

Summary: A glimpse into Daemon's life as a father.

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖

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Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

After watching your husband act like a fool for days you finally lost your patience so tonight when Daemon climbed into bed with you and started kissing your neck you pushed him away.

“What did I do?” He asked, knowing that you were upset by the frown on your face.

"You're ignoring Baelon," you accused him without any doubt of your words.

Since the two of you had came back home from the war, Daemon had barely been to the nursery and when the whole family was at the table he never tried to talk to Baelon. You didn't expect him to instantly become familiar with his role as a father., after all, he hadn't been able to meet their son before, but you never thought that your husband would look for any excuse not to be with your son.

"He doesn't like me so I'm not going to bother him" he responded, wanting to appear unconcerned but you know him well so you know that this actually bothered him.

When you and your husband returned from Stepstones, your son had burst into tears the first time Daemon spoke to him. You noticed the pain in your husband's eyes when Baelon hid his face in your neck, refusing to see him. You didn't blame your son for being afraid since it was the first time he saw his father. You knew Daemon had been excited to finally meet Baelon so you understood that the boy's reaction would have disappointed him but you didn't expect him to decide to distance himself because of that.

"He doesn't like you because he doesn't know you yet," you explain now in a softer tone. "Daemon, I don't know what you expected from your first meeting but he acted like any other child would. He doesn't know you so you have to earn his trust. He's not going to love you just because im tell him you're his father. You have to spend time with him," you advised him as you traced random patterns on his chest, hoping he wouldn't take your words the wrong way.

"I will," he promised before kissing you on the lips. He was satisfied to see that this time you didn't push him away so he continued kissing you again and again.

And Daemon really considered your words because after that night he started spending more time at the nursery. At first, Baelon looked uncertainly at Daemon when he spoke to him but you always encouraged him to respond. In addition, it also helped that your son saw that you were always calm and smiling around Daemon, so little by little the boy began to gain more confidence. Every time you were about to tell him a new story, Baelon asked his father if he knew it too and he listened attentively every time Daemon contributed. When he realized that his father also knew High Valyrian, he began to proudly tell him the words he had learned so far and asked him to also teach him new words, now at the table after the servants brought the food Baelon spent his time asking his father what he liked and what he didn't, interested in knowing more about him. Not only that but Baelon also started inviting him to the walks the two of you take together on the beach. Seeing all this, you were proud of the progress between father and son and it made you happy to see the happiness on Daemon's face every time Baelon asked his opinion or asked him something, not to mention when he held his hand for the first time while the three walked together in the beach.

But still, you couldn't help but notice that the two of them were never alone, you were always there as if they wouldn't dare to be alone.

"Where is he going?" Baelon asked, looking with a pout at his father's back as he walked.

"You Kepa is going to go see his dragon" You smiled as you came up with an idea so that they could spend some time alone "Do you want to go with him?"

You weren't surprised when he let go of your hand and started running after Daemon shouting "Kepa! Kepa!" Your husband soon stopped and turned to see the little copy of him running towards him with a big smile. He felt his heart warm at the sight. When Baelon was a few steps away from him, he approached and picked him up without warning, making the boy squeal with happiness.

"I want to go with you," the boy announced before his father could ask him what was happening.

Your husband looked at you waiting for you to say something but you were already raising your hand saying goodbye to them with a smile. Baelon moved his hand back and forth until you became a distant speck on the beach.

"What's the name of your dragon?" the boy asked, still in his dad's arms as he walked.

"Caraxes" the father responded with a smile even though this was not the first time his son had asked him that.

"It's like Wing?"

Daemon would be lying if he said he wasn't fond of hearing how Baelon called your dragon Wing because according to the Nightwing boy he was too long.

"Caraxes is much grander than the dragon on your muña," the prince responded, feeling his smile grow larger as he imagined your indignation if you would listen to him. A part of him hoped that Baelon would later tell you this just to see your reaction.

"He's giant!" Baelon exclaimed impressed when he saw the red beast. "Will my dragon be like that too?" He asked excitedly.

"Probably but in many years" Daemon replied and poked his nose when he saw him pouting "Do you want to pet him?" Instantly the pout was replaced by a smile.

"Yes!" the boy shouted excitedly and before Baelon went to touch the dragon, Daemon took his son's small hand before placing it and his carefully on the dragon's face. He did not believe that Caraxes would do anything to him but he preferred not to risk it, it was known that dragons did not usually react well when someone who was not their rider approached them with too much confidence and the last thing he wanted was for his son to end up hurt so he was for a while talking to his dragon while they both caressed it.

Daemon could remember the proudest moments in his life: when he claimed Caraxes, when his father gave him Dark Sister, when he called you his wife for the first time when you told him you were pregnant and now it added up to see his son bond with his dragon.

They were there for a while. Daemon listened with amusement to Baelon's ramblings about how giant Caraxes was and that he surely had to eat a lot to achieve that size, all while never stopping petting the dragon. Until started to get dark then they headed back to the castle.

"I like Wing more" the boy confessed once the figure of the dragon became a distant speck.

"Tomorrow you will come to fly with me and you will see that Caraxes flies faster," the prince said instantly. He had to change Baelon's mind before he said that again but in front of you. He could already imagine your cocky smile and how you would never let him forget it.

"Let's fly now!" the boy squealed excitedly.

"We can't now, your daughter must be waiting for us for dinner" the father explained, and seeing that Baelon seemed about to complain he added "Would you like her to have dinner alone? I'm sure that would make her sad"

"No, let's go with muña!"

During dinner, Baelon spent his time talking non-stop about Caraxes and how tomorrow he would fly with his Kepa. You listened to everything with a smile and only interrupted your son's ramblings to remind him to eat before the food got cold.

In the middle of Baelon's talks, Daemon took your hand and kissed it. He didn't need to tell you anything, you could see it in his eyes, he was grateful that you encouraged him to stop hiding and that he would make an effort to form a bond with his son.

When it was time for Baelon to go to sleep you and him got up from the table to go to the nursery but first Baelon said goodbye to his Kepa with a kiss on the cheek. You encouraged your son to go ahead with one of the maidens while you stayed with Daemon.

"I'm proud of you," you said as you took your husband's face in your hands and leaned in to kiss him "I can't wait to see you with the next one" you declared between kisses.

Your husband took a while to register your words because he was distracted by the taste of your lips but once he did he stopped kissing you to look at you impressed.

"Are you pregnant?" He asked just to make sure he understood correctly although he could already feel his heart racing.

You nodded with a smile and let out a laugh the moment Daemon pulled you onto his lap. You kissed his neck while his hand rested on your stomach. You still didn't show but he couldn't wait to see how the life inside you grew. He couldn't be by your side when you were pregnant with Baelon but this time it would be different, this time the two of you wouldn't have to discuss the baby's name by letter, this time Daemon would feel the baby's kicks instead of having to imagine it, this time if you wanted him, he would be by your side when you gave birth, this time he wouldn't have to wait years to meet his son. This time he would be there to see him grow.

"This time I won't miss anything," he promised, kissing your forehead.

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 7 months

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What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting

Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.

Taglist is done via reblogs

What is Broken

It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.

There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.

Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.

The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.

If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.

The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.

Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.

With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.

Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.

Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.

A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.

She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.

My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…

A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.

A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…

There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.

Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.

When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.

“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”

She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.

All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.

Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.

Now he was returning home – in haste.

He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.

But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.

She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.

It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.

For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…

That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.

She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.

So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.

Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.

Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.

That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.

Aemond was here.

Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.

Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.

“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.

Her smile did not last.

Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.

A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.

Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.

She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.

He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”

She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.

Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”

Still, she did not move.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.

He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”

Ever since, he’d been calling her little.

First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.

Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.

Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.

“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.

For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.

Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion” to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.

Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.

Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.

Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.

It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.

She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.

Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.

Always little.

Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.

Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.

Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.

She hated him.

She loved him.

She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.

She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.

Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She gave no answer.

He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”

“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”

His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.

“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”

Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?

“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.

His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”

She shook her head. “The war is not over.”

“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”

“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”

She wanted him to be the one to say it.

Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”

She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.

But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.

He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.

It broke something within her.

She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.

But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”

Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.

Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.

But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.

“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.

His child.

Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?

Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.

He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.

“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”

“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.

She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.

“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”

With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”

When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.

The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”

She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her. “Will you tell me who else?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.

With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.

She was so tired.

She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.

After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.

“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”

She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.

“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”

He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.

Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.

Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.

It did not fit as well as it used to.

If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”

The world fell silent, and so did she.

If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.

She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.

Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.

All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”

She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”

Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”

She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…

“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”

Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”

It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.

And yet…

“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’

“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”

His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.

“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”

He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.

But it had been half a year for her, too.

Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.

She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.

Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.

“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”

She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”

His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…

He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.

It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.

“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.

Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…

Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.

This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.

He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.

“Did you hold Alys like this?”

Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”

Silence, then…

“Yes, I did.”

She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.

“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.

Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”

“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”

He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.

Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.

“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.

Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”

“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.

She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.

Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.

That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”

Then he closed the door, and was gone.

But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.

Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.

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ponderingmoonlight · 18 days

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Sharing a bed with Levi for the first time after he came back

Just a little aftercare for this fic (click to read)

You still can’t believe your own luck. After all those years you endured this merciless war underneath the surface, all those years you prayed for your beloved husband to come back. And now he’s sitting next to you in the dim candle light far past midnight while reading through a tower of papers. And you simply cannot bring yourself to let go of him.

How are you supposed to ever let him go again when last time, you didn’t see him for years after?

“You should go to sleep, love. It was a long day”, he gently murmurs into your hair.

Looking up at him through sleep-deprived wet lashes still seems like a dream. Just the feeling of his warmth pressed against yours, his tight biceps between your eager arms, his minty smell you remember oh so well. It really seems like nothing changed.

But the look on his face tells you otherwise. Those dark circles that get enhanced by the dim moonlight don’t lie as well as the worry lines that now decorate his face. There is absolutely no doubt in the fact that Levi went through a lot without you. Your heart clenches uncomfortably inside your chest, arms holding onto him even tighter.

“I was wondering…If you’d mind sharing a bed with me…”, you mutter.

Why on earth are you acting so shy right now? The man sitting next to you is your husband, after all.

Levi lays the paper he just read through aside, hand lifting your chin up ever so gently.

“I don’t remember when I last slept a night, (y/n)”, he admits while putting strands of hair behind your ear mindlessly.

"It seems like I forgot how it works the day I lost you."

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes wavering in nothing but grief. What did he go through without you by his side, what horror did his grey eyes see? Out of instinct, you put your hand into his nape, draw his lips even closer to yours until they finally meet in a tender kiss.

“Let me show you how it’s done, then”, you whisper against his softness before you lift yourself up.

The air in the room around you seems to sparkle while your hand guides him to the plain single bed standing in the middle of the room. Countless nights, you imagined the love of your life back by your side. Countless nights, you tried to remember what his body feels like pressed against yours, his soft breath caressing your cheek every morning.

You let yourself fall onto the hard mattress, the bed not giving in an inch by your weight. Levi soon follows behind, his now dark eyes glued to your face.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed this. Since the day I had to leave you behind, I didn’t allow myself to fall asleep without holding you between my arms when I wake up.”

You feel like crying and giggling at the same time, a sad smile decorating your lips. Oh, how much you missed your husband, how much you longed for sharing a bed with him again.

“But now you can. Trust me when I say I’ll never leave your side again. No matter what. Even if you push me away.”

Oh, how good it feels to press your head against his firm chest, his steady heartbeat making you feel like home.

“I would never push you away, (y/n).”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and waist gently, pushes you even closer against his inviting body. For the first time since you finally got your husband back, you allow your eyes to rest, to take a break from constantly gazing at him.

Slowly but surely, you feel his steady breath against your forehead, how his firm muscles relax around you just before you yourself get consumed by darkness.

What a bittersweet and tender night it is, finally sharing the same bed with your husband after longing for him countless nights.

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royalsweetteaa · 10 months

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sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈

Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.

Title: His return

I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.

And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.

He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.

“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.

You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.

A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.

Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.

He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.

One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.

2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.

At least, you thought he was.

It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.

You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.

“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.

“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.

He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”

He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.

Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”

“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”

His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.

“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.

Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.

Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.

“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”

You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.

“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”

You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.

He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”

“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.

He smiled again. “Good.”

He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”

For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.

A promise of never leaving you ever again.

Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!

(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#dark steve rogers x reader #40s steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #drabble #chris evans fanfiction

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Note

Congratulations, I adore your story!!

Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

To Keep You Safe

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language

Word Count: 1042

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.

Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.

He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.

And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.

(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.

Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.

“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.

“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.

“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.

“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.

“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.

“(Y/N).”

“Tommy.”

“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”

(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.

“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”

Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.

Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.

“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.

“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.

“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.

“I will,” he assured her with a nod.

(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.

“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.

“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”

“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.

“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.

Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.

He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.

**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

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No Need To Ask - CS55

Chapter Thirteen - The New Norris

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

Big things to come

1.6K words

Series Masterlist

Carlos’s pawn was the first to go. He sat back in his chair, waiting for Y/N to ask her question. The pawn was clutched tightly in her fist as she sucked in a deep breath. “What do you want from me?” She asked him as she stared deep into his brown eyes. They were gorgeous, but they were deadly.

Carlos lot a lazy smirk crosses his face. His shirt was unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up. You’ve never guess that he was in England for a funeral. “I don’t want some sweet wife that I can easily scare and manipulate,” he answered.

Y/N glared. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

“Try again next time,” he said and began moving his pieces.

They went several goes without anybody stealing a piece. At last, Y/N had his knight in her possession. This question was a bit easier, more direct, and designed to rile him up. “So, you can cheat on me. But what if I was to sleep with another man?”

“You mean that little Australian rat?”

“Just answer the question, Carlos.”

Carlos cleared his throat, but his features remained cool and calm. “Simple. I would have him killed. And maybe you, as well.”

“You’d have me killed?”

“That’s what I said.”

Suddenly Y/N knew what she had to do, knew how she was going to get power over him.

They continued playing, Y/N’s game maybe not as good as it could have been, since she was concentrating on other things. Carlos stole one of her pawns. They hadn’t discussed what he was to get if he stole a piece, but Y/N had just guessed questions, the same as her.

“Do you want to be my wife?”

It sounded like a proposal, but it wasn’t. And it scared Y/N. If she answered wrong would he be rid of her? Toss her to the side like a used rag? But, if she said yes, he would know she was lying. She’d done nothing but cry since she’d arrived in Spain.

“No,” she answered honestly, heart beating erratically. “But I want to. I want to want to be your wife.” And that was the gods honest truth.

As the game continued, so did the questions. Y/N was winning, and therefore she got her questions answered. Sometimes Carlos wouldn’t answer directly, leaving her to try ago, but, by the end of the game, she found out all she needed to know. She knew exactly what she needed to do to force his respect.

Because it wasn’t something she had to earn, she wasn’t going to strive for respect from this monster. She was going to command it.

On their last day in England, Carlos had the meeting with the other heads of family. Y/N spent those last few hours wondering the halls of the house she once called him. it still felt more like home than the building she shared with her husband. She spent time in her bedroom, where her possessions still were. Lando would probably keep it that way, waiting for the day she finally came home. Even if that day was never to come.

It was strange being in that room now. So much had changed since the last time she was there. She looked through her wardrobe, picking out some outfits to take back to Spain. Packed away some black heeled boots and made her way down to the library, to try and get into her mothers desk one last time.

This time, she didn’t care if she destroyed it to get its secrets. Lando wouldn’t care, either.

So, while Lando was being announced as the new head of family, Y/N was using whatever she could find to get into her mother’s desk. She started with a screwdriver to pull apart the drawers. When that didn’t work, she moved onto smashing the entire thing apart.

The desk didn’t hold secrets, as Y/N thought it would. One drawer was full of pictures of Y/N, Lando and their father. The few normal moments they had as a family. Christmas morning and their summers getaways. They were cute, good memories, but they weren’t what Y/N was looking for. So, she kept searching.

There was one other thing Y/N’s mother kept in her desk. A manila folder that was covered in dust. Brushing off the dust, she opened the folder and pulled out a piece of paper.

An agreement. The agreement of Y/N’s hand for Carlos. She read down it, through the details, what each family would gain from this. Her mothers signature sat at the bottom of the paper, along with her fathers and Sainz’s signature. And then there was the date.

Seven years ago. This paper was signed seven years ago. The agreement was put into place seven years ago. Her fate had been decided for her seven years ago.

She tore it up. There was no telling what the consequences would be, but she did it anyway. It had been sitting in this desk for the last five years, anyway, who but her would know if she destroyed it?

Y/N picked herself up. Rage like no other bubbled up inside of her. For the first time ever, she couldn’t wait to get back to Spain.

She waited in the living room for Carlos and Lando to return from their meeting with the heads of family. Carlos already had their bags ready to go, in the corner of the room. She sat on the couch, playing with Lando’s cat. Well, he used to be their cat, but not since Y/N moved to Spain.

“Oh Suki,” she mumbled as he held him up above her, his little front legs stretched out. “I’d take you with me but you’d hate the heat.”

Suki let out a little noise and Y/N let him down, pulling him into her chest. He sat there, rather unhappy, but the ragdoll cat let her hold him close. He didn’t purr, but he didn’t try and wiggle out of her grasp, either. “Thank you, Suk,” she whispered and kissed the top of his head.

The door opened and Y/N let go of the cat, letting him run off to explore. She herself stood and brushed off her skirt, smoothing it down. The outfit of today was a black skirt with a loose, white blouse. She had cute black boots with white socks that just about peaked over the top. It was cute.

She barely got any time to say goodbye to Lando. As much as Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around him, to ask him how the meeting went, ask if anything was different now that he was Norris.

But Carlos didn’t give her much of a choice. He let her say a quick goodbye, let her throw her arms around him, but then they had to go. Y/N would have fought back, but this wasn’t Carlos’s thought. This wasn’t because he wanted to be nasty that they had to leave as soon as possible. Carlos had obligations in Spain he had to attend to, meaning they had to leave the minute the meeting was over.

During the plane ride back to Spain, Y/N sat where she wanted to. Carlos sat opposite her, and Y/N didn’t move away. She watched the clouds coming past as she sipped her drink.

Nothing much happened on the plane journey, and I won’t bore you with the details of the car journey back to the house. Y/N and Carlos didn’t speak. It wasn’t uncomfortable, they just didn’t need to.

That night they slept in separate beds. That was to be expected. Yes, Y/N had stood up to him, but not that much had changed.

It wasn’t until the next day that she stepped up her game. Y/N strode up to Carlos’s office door and knocked. She went to knock, but, as with every time she had tried before, his men stopped her. But Y/N wouldn’t let that happen “I am his wife and I will go where I like,” she said and knocked once again on the office door.

She didn’t wait for a reply before she pushed into his office. He could have been fucking anybody, and Y/N wasn’t going to care. But he wasn’t. Carlos was simply doing paperwork when she walked in.

She strode over, body filled with confidence, and leaned against his desk, looking at her husband. “I want to go shopping,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Go on, then,” Carlos answered and grabbed a notepad from his desk drawer, making a note of something.

Y/N leaned in closer. “I want to go shopping, Carlos. That means I need money and permission.”

Carlos put down his pen. He looked at his wife and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Miguel!” He shouted and one of the men guarding the door ran into the office. He stood, staring at his boss as he waited for his command. “You are to take my pretty little wife shopping,” he said and Miguel nodded.

They had an exchange in Spanish; Y/N only just managed to pick out a couple of words.

So, Miguel took Y/N shopping. He didn’t speak to her, just watching over her as she picked out different dresses. Most were black, some short, some longer. Y/N picked out some shoes to go with them. They were elegant, expensive dresses that she was going to use for every day wear. Carlos’s card paid for everything. Y/N didn’t care for the price tags as the filled Miguels arms with bags.

When she was satisfied with the success of her shopping trip, Miguel drove her back to the house. She headed straight to her room, putting away her new dresses and shoes. And then she got changed into one of them, the one she deemed to be the sexiest. That was what she wore to give Carlos back his card.

When she walked into the office, his jaw was on the floor.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa23 @measimp

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loganbcrnes · 8 months

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Captain Syverson & August Walker in the viking era (part 1?)

ok i just love a good old viking headcanon. I cannot stop imagining a bunch of my favourite characters in the viking era, totally feral and just fucking all the time sjdjsjd.

Henrys characters fit perfect for this era with their gruff beefy look. also this turned out kinda soft??? anyways enjoy!!

might do a part 2 if anyone is interested, just let me know! readers body type and ethnicity isnt described.

No warning, but mentions of smut, everything is consensual even though it may not seem it lol.

Captain Syverson

Sy grew up on a farm with his mother and father. he'd definitely be of Norwegian heritage. a farm boy at heart, grew up to be a fierce warrior after his parents were killed. Everyone feared The Captain, rumors spread like wildfire, to the point people thought he was sent from the Gods, or that he was a warrior god himself. he'd sail the seas around the world raiding, pillaging and trading. but deep down he was a romantic at heart and a traditional man. He longed for devoted love, a love he saw in his parents. He waited for a long time before he would finally meet you. because deep down, he wanted to go back to the farm, live a peaceful life as a husband to his wife and a father to his children.

eventually he would meet you, a woman who was taken from her home to be a slave to a king in Sweden. As he was pillaging the town to kill the king, he saw you in a farm house, a man was trying to assault you. Sy struck his sword through the man and he fell to the ground. You was wearing a light blue long-sleeved top with a brown skirt, but oh you were so beautiful. It was love at first sight even when the reader punched Sy in the face and ran away from the town into the forest. Sy knew from there that the reader was to be his wife.

Half the time Sy was feral, it was the only thing that could get him through the raids. He could let his inner beast come through. A couple of days later, trying to find you, he saw you washing yourself by a waterfall. He hid behind a big rock so he could watch you. He watched as you were drying your hair off, your body sun-kissed by the summer sun. He felt his cock harden as he looked your ass and breasts, so plumb and his for the taking.

As he came into view, you gasped as you saw him. He looked at you up and down, taking in your nakedness. Your breasts hardened at the cool wind blowing, but also because of the giant man staring at you. Your pussy on display, he wanted to taste you so bad.

Before you know it he has you pinned down, you let out a startled scream as he nuzzled his face into your neck, smelling your sweet scent. You knew this was wrong, you did not know this man, but something about it felt good. He was huge, while his hands were rough, touching you everywhere, even your most private areas which you blushed and looked away. His touch was still soft.

"W-what do you want from me?" You asked, unsure what to do. "Need you" Sy mumbled into your neck. "Please" You hear him whisper. Next thing you know you are being pounded into the dirt. You moan and scream to the point you are afraid someone will hear, his balls slap against your ass with each thrust. His broad thick hairy body wraps around your body. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit. You were so aroused that it didn't even hurt when he slid in, taking your virginity and filling you up with his seed. Oh there was a lot of seed, to the point you thought this was unusual. But you did not care, you were so far gone and the sexiest man was above you fucking and breeding you to the halt.

August Walker

August Walker, known as the king of Denmark to the people, was a Noble and commanding king, but harsh and silent. He was dominating, successfully winning every raid and war. other kings and queens were afraid of him. no one dared to disobey him. Many wandered if this man was even capable of love, because all they saw was a murderous man who got what he wanted every time.

He grew up with a cruel father, who would beat him and his mother after coming home drunk every night. After he killed his own father, August looked after his mother when she grew sick. Ever since her death he has always been alone.

Until one day.

In the middle of a raid, August all bloodied from the killing, saw a woman fighting off men as young girls and boys were standing behind her terrified. The woman was striking, and fierce. Never holding down even though he could see the exhaustion on your face and body. Oh your body. He could not see your curves due to the armor, but he knew you were beautiful, that made his cock harden.

after a successful raid, sitting at the high table in front of his warriors and civilians alike, they celebrated. you face appeared and he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Never has he felt this way before, he couldn't quite put his finger on what he was feeling, lust?, romance? maybe both? who knows. Only thing he knew certain off was that he wanted you in his bed that night. Upon meeting him, you were stubborn. You heard the rumors about this man. He fucked anything that moved and he killed anyone that pissed him off. Your attitude shocked him as no one treated him in such a manner, but it just made him want you more. You both did not leave the bedroom for 3 days. August lay awake as you cuddled him from the side. He looked at you, thinking of a life he could have with you, but for the type of man he is, he did not think he deserved such a life. But over time you proved him otherwise, with your stubborn nature, you brought four daughters and a son to the world who were equally stubborn. Now he cannot picture a life without the six of you. promising himself he will be a better father than what his own father was.

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deansapplepie · 4 months

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Can’t promise ya that Sweetheart

Daryl x f!Reader | Established relationship | pos savior war | Dad Daryl | little fluff

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating (not Daryl, of course), memory loss, Negan, a little bit of violence, mentions of death, killing threat, a little part of blood, pregnancy, mentions of birth, mentions of torturing, mentions of cancer. (If I forgot anything tell me) Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: This is a small story based on this dream that I had in the end of the last year. Finally decided to write something about it.

It didn’t go exactly what I had planned because of the dream, but here it is. Also, I wanted it to be a small drabble, but I turned it into a big one-shot.

Another thing is… Daryl and Reader have a 6 year old son, but in no moment I wrote his name in the history. I received a critique about reader’s son in The Spitting Image, so I’m still deciding if I’ll continue with DJ in my Dad Daryl fics, or if it will be only for The Spitting Image and I’m coming up with another name in my other fics. Just to make it clear, I have no intention in changing DJ’s name in The Spitting Image.

When the Greenes found you, the world had already ended. In one of Otis’ hunting leaves he encountered you, all bloody, your hair a mess of dried blood and dirty. At first he thought you were dead, but then you let a small cry and he checked your vital signs confirming you were indeed alive. That day he didn’t go back to the farm with good meat, he took you in his arms and arrived at the house urging for help.

The moment you woke up, your mind was blank. There was nothing there. No memories. At least, you still had the ability of speaking, reading and writing, besides that, not a thing. You didn’t even remember your own name. You didn’t remember the world before dead people started walking. Some people said you were lucky, because you couldn’t miss something you didn’t remember, but most of the times it was frustrating not knowing about who you were.

Without a name or a history, the Greenes soon adopted you, giving you the name Y/N, because they said it suited you and their last name. You liked how Y/N Greene sounded, and you liked the people that took you in and soon made you love them and be part of the family. Everyday was a new day to discover what you liked or disliked, to learn something new and learn who you were.

The group from Atlanta came, and with them also came a lot of trouble and a certain mysterious hunter that refused to leave your thoughts. He didn’t even looked at you, why were you dreaming about him? Little did you know you never left his thoughts too, and that was incredibly annoying. The farm burned down and all of you lost your safe place. You took the road, then you arrived at the prison and with the months passing you grew closer and closer to Daryl Dixon, but you were only friends. Until… after the people from Woodbury joined you and an event brought you two together.

And that was how you ended up like this, married to him, a 6 year old son and one more baby on the way. Now you lived in Alexandria a community that gave you a home again, a small sense of normalcy and where your strange family only grew. You had all been through a lot already… the prison fell, you were almost eaten by cannibals and you had survived a war against a group called The Saviors, which leader Negan killed many of your friends and broke and destroyed your husband. The first time you listened to the name of the worst person you heard of it made you feel something strange, just like if your guts were being pulled by an invisible hand, but you couldn’t tell why. Maybe it was just because he was a sick son of a bitch.

He killed Glenn which was like your brother in law as you and Maggie had become instantly sisters. He killed Abraham the gigantic ginger of a big heart and a mouth dirtier than a sailor’s. And his worst crime, in your heart, was what he made Daryl go through. He tortured, humiliated and broke piece by piece of the man you loved, and that you couldn’t forgive. You never got to see him. That sounds strange, but every time he showed up you wasn’t in Alexandria, the missions everybody went you couldn’t go because of your enormous belly that had the biggest baby you had ever saw, damn Daryl and his genes, that baby was hard to push - but yet here you were carrying another one. In the final battle you had your baby Dixon in your arms, so you never got to see the man. Even after Rick almost killed him, but in the last seconds asked Siddiq to save him.

You never had to see the man you despised and hated so much, until now that you were walking on Alexandria streets going to get his food and deliver it to him. You managed to keep the distance from him the past 6 years and nobody ever asked you to do a thing for him. Maybe because he brought back the memories of what he did to Daryl, or maybe because you agreed and supported Maggie about killing him. But now, you were making a favor to Gabriel, Michonne wasn’t in town and Rosita needed him. So why not? It couldn’t be so difficult, you repeated the steps on your head: handcuff him, open the cell, put the tray on the floor, close the cell and release him. After that you just needed to leave and never look at him again, at least you hoped so.

When you entered the dark room only illuminated by the daily light that came from the small window, it sent chills through all your body and you felt your “little pear” get agitated in your belly. ‘Lil pear’ was the nickname Daryl gave the baby you had in your belly, because he was pretty sure that it was a girl this time. You didn’t have an opinion about it, but you knew he would be happy if it was a sweet little girl like his ‘lil ass kicker’. You put the tray on a chair and before catching the handcuff on your pocket, you caressed your already big belly to assure your baby that nothing bad would happen.

“Never thought you’d ever come to visit me.” You heard his voice and once again it was like someone was pulling your guts.

“Believe me, I tried to come for a deadly visit, but I wasn’t allowed to.” You replied, handcuffs already in your hands. “Hands outside the bars.”

“I know you hate me, but you wouldn’t dare to kill me.” He put both hands outside the cage so you could handcuff him.

“Don’t tempt me Negan, or I may take the offer.” You handcuffed him and now took the key to open the cell.

“You really enjoyed fucking Dixon, didn’t you?” People were right he knew so damn well how to make anyone lose their temper. “A precious sweet little boy the one you have.” You had opened the door.

“Never!” You kicked the side of his leg on the height of the knee, earning a grunt in pain from him. “Never talk about my child again! Don’t even look at him!”

“This isn’t how I raised you sweetie… but I’m glad you can take care of yourself in this world.” You went outside the cage to take the tray of food. “But this isn’t the way you should treat your father.”

You gave him an annoyed look. “My father is Hershel Greene, and he’s dead. So, no way a scumbag like you is my father.” Fuck, remembering Hershel made tears surface in your eyes. Damn, fucking hormones.

You lowered the maximum you could to put the tray on the floor and made a mental note to tell Gabriel you’d never help him in such activities again till the end of your pregnancy. He didn’t know how fucked up it was to squat in that situation.

“Your name isn’t Y/N. Your maiden name was Smith. You have a mole in your back, close to your shoulder. You got a scar on your left knee after you fell from your bike, you were 8…” he said and that stroke you in a way you couldn’t explain. Yes, you had a mole. Yes, you had this scar that you didn’t know how you got since you had no memories from your past. You left his cell and closed the door. “Guess, you aren’t Daddy’s pretty princess anymore…”

At that moment the unthinkable happened, a storm of memories hit you running through your mind and you had to hold yourself on the bars, or you could swear you’d fall. Your childhood. Your teens. Memories of an old life you didn’t had anymore, and the day you caught your dad cheating on your stepmom, the reason why you left them not looking back, because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her and break her heart, but you also couldn’t look at your father’s face and don’t feel anger. A wave of anger that contained all the last years and now also your memories from the past hit you, and when you realized it, you were with your hands on his collar yanking him towards the bars, his face impossibly close to it.

“What did you do to Lucille?” You yelled at him, from all the things you could have asked or yelled at him, he wasn’t expecting this. “What happened to her?! You gave her name to a fucking bat!”

“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Jesus… I couldn’t even kill her turned self.” He confessed. “She had cancer. She discovered it a little after you left… she was still in treatment when the outbreak happened.” And then he told you the short story of what happened and you blamed yourself for not being there for her, she was like a mom to you and you ran away just because you couldn’t tell her your dad was a cheater, but now he was worse, he was a psycho.

You released his hands from the handcuff and stored it on your pocket again. “I’m asking Gabriel to take the tray.” You said, you didn’t even need to tell him anything, but you didn’t know why you said.

“Can you bring the boy to meet me?” He had the audacity to ask. You snorted.

“If it depends on me, he’ll never meet you. You killed my friends, my brother… you tortured my husband, and that sweet little boy had a complicated birth because of what you inflicted in all of us, and do you think you have any right of meeting him?” He could see the tears in your eyes threatening to fall, and his heart clenched just like when you were little and would cry because you were hurt. But you’d not let it happen in front of him. You’d not cry. “If you had remained you, if you hadn’t caused so much pain, this would be a completely different reencounter.”

Once you finished talking you left the small little prison and when you turned to go up the stairs, you saw Daryl up the stairs, the look in his eyes indicating worry. He was probably looking for you, and someone probably said where you were. He saw in your eyes that you were in the verge of crying, you went up the stairs and once in front of him, you urged him to leave the place, you didn’t want him to see you crying.

You entered home, hand in hand and he took you to the sofa, sitting there with you. He put one arm on your shoulders and brought you to rest your head against his chest. “What did he tell you?” He asked and you were sure he was already thinking of a way of destroying the prisoner.

“I… I remember everything, Daryl.” You said, and the tears that you had been holding just fell down. “Negan’s my father.”

He didn’t look surprised, because he wasn’t. He knew it. For years already. Being married with the archer for so many years, made you a little observant like him and in that moment you knew there was something wrong.

“You’re not surprised.” You said, it was an affirmation, not a question. “Did you know?”

He took a deep breath, his hand on your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how was your past with him. I was afraid it was so messed up that you would break if you got your memories back.”

“Did you never doubt my loyalty after you discovered it?” That was a difficult question, that you were not sure if you were prepared to listen to his answer. You weren’t mad at him, you kneel him and you knew he had no bad intentions on hiding it from you and to be honest, deep down you wished Gabriel had never sent you there.

“Wouldn’t have put another baby in ya if I did.” He didn’t want to be coarse, that was just the way he was and when he said that you knew he’d never doubt you. “I’ve been with ya for years, wouldn’t ever doubt you.”

“How did you discover it?” You wrapped your arms around his torso.

Some days after Negan was taken to his cell in Alexandria, he saw something through the small window that he didn’t expected. You. His daughter that had given her back to him many years ago. When the world ended, Lucille had told him to go and look for you, but he couldn’t do that, he needed to take care of her. Months passed and you never showed up at home, he thought you would try to get home if the apocalypse happened, so he just assumed you were dead. He saw you with Daryl and a cute baby in your arms, and that’s how he discovered you were the pregnant wife he had and everyone talked about, but he never got to meet. Also, you were going by a different name. He’d never think it was you. He was a monster, but he was a father, and he was so glad you were alive and well… but he also knew you probably hated him more than anything. Next time Rick visited him, he talked to him and asked to see you. Of course the ex-sheriff didn’t tell you, he told Daryl and that day the hunter had a ‘nice’ conversation with the ex Savior.

“Ya’re not telling her anything, ya aren’t even going ta look at’er or ma son.” He didn’t want to be controlling, abusive or anything of it, but he knew you were better not knowing it. It would destroy you if you knew you were related to a monster. “If ya try anything, a single little thing, I’m gonna kill ya and feed you to the walkers.”

He listened to Daryl, for long 6 years, but he didn’t have many options since he was in his cell all the time and you never came close to it. Everything organized for you to not do so, Rick, Michonne and Carol knew, all of the three knew and would make everything so you didn’t need to have contact with Negan, that’s until the day you decided to do a favor for Gabriel.

“He wasn’t a bad father.” You said when your husband finished telling you what happened. “To be honest, I have mostly good memories of him. A year before the outbreak, or so, I caught him cheating on my stepmom. I ran away, because I didn’t have the courage to tell her and I was so angry at him. I was dramatic and childish.”

“Nah, you weren’t. That was how ya felt, and it’s ok.” He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you in his arms.

“Do you think it would have made any difference if I had stayed?”

“I dunno. There’s no way to know. But one thing I know, we wouldn’t have met, and we wouldn’t have our precious lil boy or our lil pear on the way.” He caressed your belly while talking and he was right… things happened how they were supposed to happen and there was no way you could know if anything would have been different.

Soon the door opened and your little ray of sunshine came running directly to the living room and hugging you and his ‘little sis’, like he was now calling the baby. You thought it was because Daryl would say all the time it was a girl, but he would always say it wasn’t. ‘Kids know these things, they can feel’, he would say.

“Momma, how was your day? Did my lil sis kick a lit today?” He asked with his little face leaning on your stomack and his big blue eyes shining.

“My day was wonderful baby. Little pear kicked just a little today.” You said, your hand on top of your head. “How was school? Who brought you?”

“It was good. Jude brought me.” He said and then he looked at Daryl. “Daddy, you forgot me.”

“I’m sorry little man.” He sat his son on his lap. “Momma needed ma help.”

When he heard you had been sent to take food to Negan, he forgot about everything and ran to get to you. He was so afraid of what could happen that he forgot to take the kids. It was safe, it was inside Alexandria, but either way he needed to be there, to teach your son could only trust you, he shouldn’t go with anybody to anywhere, unless it was people you really trusted.

“Why don’t you go up, put away your things and wait momma to take your bath?” Daryl told the little boy and he went immediately upstairs.

Daryl got up and headed to the hall, you followed him and saw he was ready to leave.

“Where are you going?” You asked, clueless, you had just arrived home and your kid was back.

“Gonna have a talk with Negan.” He said. He was so good at comforting you that you didn’t notice he was boiling in anger. He had told him to not say a thing and he just opened his big mouth!

“Babe, he’s an asshole. We already know it, just let him be. I guess I made everything clear to him.” You tried to soothe him, both your hands enveloping his face.

“I gave him a warning, and still he made ya cry.” He delicately took your hands from his face and walked to the door.

“Daryl, please… don’t kill him.” You had confused feelings, you hated Negan for so many reasons and now at the same time remembering he was your father…

“Can’t promise ya that, sweetheart.” He opened the door and left.

You didn’t know if you believed in God anymore, but in that moment you prayed to whatever force there were that Daryl could calm down and also that none of this mess harm your son and your unborn baby.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x female reader #dad daryl #deansapplepie

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dixons-sunshine · 1 month

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daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️

Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge

Warnings: None.

Word count: 965

A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.

Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.

It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“No, Daddy. You can't.”

“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”

Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”

“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.

Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.

You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.

Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.

“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.

Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.

You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.

“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.

Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.

“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”

Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”

You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.

“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.

She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.

“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”

Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”

“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”

“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”

You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader #dad!daryl dixon #dad!daryl

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a-frog-with-a-laptop · 1 month

Text

Replacement

Azriel X Reader

This is my go at the prompt "Character A was so happy planning the perfect starfall party. They forgot to get a date. Character B has an idea." for @starfallweek.

Can't wait to read what everyone came up with!

Might write more of these two. Not sure. If people want more i will

~~~

She’d been planning this for weeks. Y/N had always loved Starfall and the joy she gets from spending time with her family no matter how tired she gets afterwards so when she finally moved out and was able to plan the parties herself she went all out. This year was her first time planning for her husband's family.

Y/N and the night court’s shadowsinger, Azriel, had married earlier that year and she’d made a promise to herself to plan that year's starfall party to give the Highlord time to spend time with his family and take a break after all he did for her. He helped her family get back on their feet after the war, and fully paid for the wedding and, her and Azriels new house. That proved to be a very good idea.

Y/N had somehow convinced the high lord and lady to take a week off leading up to the holiday giving her plenty of time to plan a surprise party without them and the only way for it to be successful was if they were gone. Y/N had realised pretty quickly how much of a busybody the high lord was.

She had to tell the rest of his family about the plan but couldn’t do that while he was getting suspicious of everyone sneaking around so she dropped hints of a holiday in his head. Even though he was the most powerful high lord he didn’t seem to be the smartest so she turned to his wife the highlady and straight up told her to take her husband and child on a holiday.

~~~

Y/N was out of breath after running up a street and then stairs to catch up to her highlady who was now walking only a few metres in front of her. She pushed a stroller which most likely carried the young night court heir. “Feyre.” Y/N more puffed than yelled out.

Feyre spun around quickly in response, gasping when seeing Azriel's new wife bent over puffing her lungs out. “Y/N are you okay? Should I call for Azriel?”

Y/N put a hand up. “No-” she breathed a deeper breath before standing “-I just ran like 5 blocks to find you but you walk so damn fast.”

“You had to run to catch up to me?” Feyre raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.Y/N shushed her, “You know what I mean”

Feyre chuckled a light and airy sound. “Well, what did you need?”

“I’ve been trying to convince your mate, Rhysand-” Feyre giggled again at Y/N’s clarification “-to take you and Nyx on a holiday but it seems that he is thicker than Cassian’s biceps and can't get the hint.”

“So you want me to take him?”

Y/N nodded slowly.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to plan a Starfall party so he can take a break in thanks for everything he did for me but I can't get help when he’s such a busybody.”

Feyre laughed again before agreeing allowing Y/N to run straight back home to start properly preparing.

~~~

Now it was the day before Starfall and everything was ready. Well, almost ready. Y/N had realised that neither she nor Azriel had formally asked each other to be the other's date as they had done since before they even started dating. It was technically now a yearly tradition between the two and she wasn't going to break it this year. But even though she wanted to keep the formality they held in earlier years she was too tired to plan anything else.

Y/N had planned non-stop for the past week and that was exhausting. Rhysand, Feyre and Nyx got back from their holiday earlier that day so everyone in the inner circle was walking on glass around the highlord hoping he didn’t mention his own party or even Starfall itself.

Y/N finally convinced herself that the not-tradition tradition she’d created with her husband was worth continuing and set down her book before starting her search for the elusive male. She looked around upstairs in the bedroom, study, and bathroom(hoping to find an undressed shadow singer) before making her way downstairs. Walking into the foyer she stuck her head into the lounge room to see a large bat wing popping up from the lounge.

She winced internally, knowing Azriel was lying on his back and thinking of how uncomfortable it would be for him.

“Az?” Y/N whispered incase he was asleep. His head popped up over the back of the lounge and she smiled at his mussed-up hair and droopy eyes, clearly indicating that he had previously been asleep.

“Yeah?” Azriel muttered in a sleep-ridden voice before rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. Even after just waking up, he was gorgeous.

“I kind of assumed we would since you know-” Y/N shrugged “-we are married, but will you be my date to the Starfall party?”

Azriel woke up instantly at that sentence before pulling a face like he sucked on a lemon. Y/N’s face dropped along with her stomach. She immediately started thinking of what he did to have that reaction. What did he do?

Azriel noticed his wife’s distress immediately and sat up more ready to jump over the lounge in case he needed to do some quick damage control. “Sorry. Im going with Cassian.”

Y/N’s face blanked as she reeled back. Her mouth opened and then shut. Before opening again she tilted her head to the side and furled her eyebrows in thought. “Why?”

“Well you see, Cassian can't go with Nesta because she is going with Gwyn.” Azriel started explaining. He realised it wasn’t enough of an explanation before continuing. “Nesta is going with Gwyn because Emerie is going with Mor.”

That was enough of an explanation for his wife because her bewildered look turned to one of thought.

“Oh,” Y/N turned to walk away. “Okay.”

“Sorry!” Azriel called out with a wince on his face.

~~~

It was now Starfall and people filled every inch of the inside of the home and the back garden.

Y/N had invited everyone from Azriel's side of the family that he liked and she invited all from her side of the family who in return invited more people resulting in Y/N being stopped by every second person who claimed to be a distant relative of hers. But she didn't listen to what they had to say. She was too stressed by the fact that Rhysand, Feyre and Nyx hadn’t shown up yet.

Additionally, the sight of Cassian pulling her husband into a dip and kissing him passionately had set her on edge. She’d almost shatter the glass she was holding from anger. Y/N knew it was all a joke but there was this nagging feeling creeping up her spine which could only be described as murderous when watching Cassian and Azriel put on this happy couple act for the joke they had going.

Y/N moved throughout the house towards the front door and pushed her way outside to sit on the front porch to wait for the high lord and lady.

Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long for they arrived almost as soon as she sat down and she stood to greet them quickly.

“Rhysand, Feyre. Welcome back to Velaris.” Y/N smiled broadly as she hugged the couple before turning to Nyx. “Welcome back too little soldier.”

“We are grateful to be back.” Rhysand chuckled.

“And grateful for you to have organised and sent us on that trip.” Feyre added nudging her husband and mate.”

Suddenly everything turned serious as Y/N looked at the two parents.

“I need your child for something.”

~~~

The musicians hired quickly turned up the tempo of the party after the show of stars and everyone started dancing. Azriel had been searching for Y/N for a while now, wondering where she had gone. He was filled with concern and anxiety that something must have gone wrong. So much that he broke the little joke he and Cassian had going on to voice his concerns to the other male.

Azriel kept looking around the backyard hoping to see Y/N somewhere and slowly started slinking into himself when his searching failed until Cassian roughly jabbed him in the arm.

Azriel's head snapped to face Cassian but the other male just pointed to the makeshift dance floor.

Azriel looked and saw his wife carefully dancing around with a little bundle in her arms and relief filled his body. He smiled at her happiness and took the few minutes the song took to admire her.

When the song finished she looked back up to him and smiled a big toothy grin. Azriel followed it with a grin of his own as she started a walk over.

“So Y/N,” Cassian started, “who's your date for tonight.”

Y/N glared at the male before smiling at the now-moving lump in her arms.

“Nyx needed someone to go with so I volunteered.” She smiled back down at the young fae looking up at her in her arms.

“Well, I’ll say that you make a wonderful couple.” Cassian mocked.

“Why thank you, my lord.” Y/N mocked back with a slight curtsy. “Now if you’ll excuse me my date and I must go to bed.”

Azriel watched as Y/N walked off inside the house, Cassian’s teasing of replacement flying straight over his head until an older fae female walked up to them.

One Azriel recognised from his wedding.

“So when are we recreating that image with my grandchild Azriel?” His mother-in-law asked expectantly.

#acotar #starfallweek2024 #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #rhysand #cassian #nyx #feyre #feyre archeron

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