#otis angst
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None Of This Is Your Fault.
Brian "Otis" Zvonecek x Fem!Firefighter!Reader
A/N: Sorry that I've been so inactive, I know this is no excuse but I school started and my job is starting to get into it's busy season and to my luck I managed to tear my meniscus and I've been in so much pain so writing has been the least of my concerns. I am getting surgery on Thursday so I will be writing more soon. For now, please enjoy my new fic.
This is a 20 chapter story and I've put 10 chapters in one fic. It's a lot but this is my apology for being inactive.
Chapter 1:
Five years. That’s how long I’ve been with Brian. It feels like a lifetime and just a blink at the same time. We met in the most unconventional of ways—running into each other during a late-night call, both of us soaked in sweat, soot smeared across our faces, the smell of smoke thick in the air. It wasn’t the most romantic setting, but maybe that’s why it worked. There was no need for pretenses between us. We were both drawn to the fire, the adrenaline, the chaotic beauty of our work. And somehow, through the chaos, I found him.
Brian “Otis” Zvonecek—my partner in every sense of the word. He’s not the guy who sweeps you off your feet with grand gestures or sweet talk. No, Brian is the guy who shows up every single day. He’s steady. Kind. Funny in the way that only he can be, with those ridiculous puns and the way his face lights up when he thinks he’s landed a good one. It’s impossible not to laugh when he’s around, and God, that’s what I love most about him—he makes everything lighter, even when the world feels heavy.
But these days, the world is feeling a little heavier than usual.
We’ve both been working nonstop—Firehouse 51 is like a second home, though lately, it feels more like a first. There’s something comforting about the firehouse, the constant hum of activity, the sound of the trucks rumbling to life, the distant chatter of my crew—no, my family. And Brian? He’s always been at the center of it all. Our relationship bloomed in this place, surrounded by the people who understand what we go through every day.
I remember the early days with him so clearly. It started as a few casual glances across the engine bay, nothing serious at first. Just an awareness of him. His laugh was what caught me. The way he threw his head back, completely unguarded, while the rest of us were tense and wired after a tough call. He had this way of letting it all roll off his back, and I admired that.
It wasn’t long before we were partnered on every shift, making excuses to grab dinner after. One night, after a particularly tough rescue, he suggested we go for wings. I was exhausted, drained, and covered in soot, but something in his voice made me agree. I needed that—something normal, something grounding. We sat in that little corner booth, devouring spicy wings, laughing about the ridiculousness of our lives. It was simple, but it was the first time I felt like I had found something real. Something worth holding onto.
That’s how we’ve always been—just us, grounded in the simplicity of being together. No grand romantic gestures, no pressure to be anything other than who we are.
And for five years, it worked. I always felt secure with Brian. Sure, we’ve had our share of arguments—what couple doesn’t?—but they were always small, petty things. We’d bicker about who forgot to fill the gas tank or who left the towels on the floor, but those disagreements never lasted long. We were always able to laugh it off, make a joke, and move forward.
Lately, though, I’ve been different. Not us—me. I feel it deep inside, like there’s something pulling me away, pulling us apart. I don’t know why, but these past few months, things that shouldn’t bother me do. Things that used to make me laugh now irritate me. And sometimes, when the irritation boils over, I lose control in a way I never have before.
Brian doesn’t say it, but I can tell he’s worried. He’s always watching me now, his brown eyes searching for some sign that I’m still the same Y/N he fell in love with. But the truth is, I don’t feel like the same person anymore, and that scares me more than I care to admit. The outbursts come out of nowhere—sudden, violent flashes of anger—and then, just as quickly, they’re gone, like they never happened. And the worst part? I can’t remember them.
It’s terrifying.
It started small. A broken plate here, a slammed door there. I chalked it up to stress. Firefighting is a tough job, and we’re no strangers to pressure. But as the weeks turned into months, the episodes became harder to ignore. They were no longer just occasional moments of frustration—they were frequent, and sometimes, I wouldn’t even realize something was wrong until I saw the look in Brian’s eyes. That look of concern, like he didn’t know how to help me, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing. I hated that look. It made me feel like I was losing him, losing us.
But I kept telling myself it was fine. I was fine. If I just pushed through, if I worked harder, the episodes would stop. I thought if I ignored it, I could outrun it.
I was wrong.
Tonight, as I lie in bed next to Brian, listening to his soft breathing, I can’t shake the feeling that something big is coming. Something we won’t be able to ignore. I stare at the ceiling, the weight of it pressing down on me, my chest tightening. The love I have for him is overwhelming, and I don’t know how to protect it anymore.
Brian stirs beside me, his arm draping across my waist as he pulls me closer in his sleep. I close my eyes, taking in the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of him. He feels like home. But the fear of losing that—of losing him—is more than I can bear.
Tomorrow is another shift. Another 48-hour stretch. I tell myself things will get better, that I just need to push through. But deep down, I know something has to give.
And I’m terrified that when it does, it’ll be too late to save what we’ve built.
Chapter 2:
The first time it happened, I barely noticed it. Looking back, that should have been my first clue. It was such a small thing—a flash of frustration that I thought was just stress from work. We were off-duty, Brian and I, sitting at the kitchen table after a long day. We’d been talking about the usual—our shifts, the next firehouse event, Cruz’s latest terrible joke. Brian had a way of making everything feel easy. Comfortable.
But that night, something was different.
I don’t even remember what set me off. One minute, we were laughing, and the next, I felt this surge of anger bubbling up inside me. It wasn’t anything Brian said or did, not really. It was more like a wave crashing over me, completely out of my control. I felt like I was drowning in it, and the next thing I knew, I was standing over the kitchen sink, my hands trembling as I stared at the shattered remains of a glass I didn’t even remember throwing.
Brian was standing a few feet away, his face pale, his eyes wide with shock.
“Y/N… what just happened?” His voice was quiet, careful.
I blinked, trying to piece together the moment, but it was like a fog had settled over my mind. “I—I don’t know.” My voice sounded distant, unfamiliar. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” he said quickly, stepping forward. He placed his hand gently on my arm, his touch grounding me. “It’s okay. It was just a glass.”
But it wasn’t just the glass, and we both knew it. Something had shifted inside me, something dark and uncontrollable. And the worst part was, I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t tell Brian what was wrong because I didn’t know.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat tight. “I don’t know what happened.”
Brian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s fine. We’re both tired. It was just a glass.”
I nodded, but as I swept up the broken shards, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had broken inside me, too. And it wasn’t going to be as easy to put back together.
Chapter 3:
Weeks passed, and the tension in the air between Brian and me seemed to grow with each passing day. It wasn’t just at home anymore—my outbursts were starting to creep into our shifts at the firehouse. It wasn’t anything major at first, just little moments where I’d snap at someone or lose my temper more easily than usual. Everyone chalked it up to the stress of the job, and I let them. It was easier than admitting something was wrong.
But inside, I could feel it building—this pressure, like a balloon swelling inside my chest, ready to burst. I thought I could handle it. I thought if I kept myself busy, if I focused on the work, I could push it down. But firefighting isn’t a job where you can afford to lose control.
I remember one call in particular. It was a standard house fire, nothing we hadn’t seen a thousand times before. The flames were manageable, but there was a lot of smoke. We went in as a team, each of us with a role, moving in sync like we always did. Brian was with me, like he usually was, our movements so familiar we didn’t even need to talk to communicate.
But something was off that day. The smoke felt heavier than usual, the heat more oppressive. My helmet felt like it was pressing down on my skull, making my head throb. I tried to push through it, focusing on the task at hand, but my mind was racing. Every sound—the crackle of flames, the muffled voices over the radio, even my own breathing in the mask—felt like it was closing in on me.
“Y/N, you good?” Brian’s voice crackled through my radio.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my vision was starting to blur at the edges. We were almost done, just a few more minutes. I could make it. I had to.
But then, out of nowhere, the frustration hit me. I don’t know why—it wasn’t a particularly stressful call—but something inside me snapped. I felt a surge of anger, irrational and uncontrollable. I swung my axe harder than I needed to, cutting through debris with more force than was necessary. I heard Brian call my name again, concern clear in his voice, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I was too focused on the pounding in my head, the rage bubbling just beneath the surface.
When we finally exited the building, I ripped off my helmet and tossed it to the ground, breathing heavily. My heart was racing, my hands trembling.
“What the hell, Y/N?” Brian was at my side, his voice sharp. “You could’ve hurt yourself in there.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked at me. “You’ve been off lately. This isn’t like you.”
I turned away, not wanting to hear the concern in his voice. I didn’t want to admit that he was right—that something was wrong with me. “I told you, I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t. I knew it, and Brian knew it, too.
Chapter 4:
The firehouse had always been a place of comfort for me. It was where I felt in control, where I knew I could make a difference. But lately, even that had started to feel like a burden. My outbursts were becoming more frequent, and I could see the strain it was putting on everyone—especially Brian.
At home, things were getting harder. Brian tried to be patient, but I could see the frustration in his eyes whenever I lost my temper. He’d always been the calm one, the one who could smooth things over with a joke or a smile. But even he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.
We had one of our worst fights a few nights after that call. I don’t even remember what started it—something small, something stupid. But it spiraled out of control so fast. One minute, we were sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and the next, I was yelling at him, accusing him of things that didn’t even make sense.
“You don’t even care about me anymore!” I shouted, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You’re always at work, or with Cruz, or doing anything but being here with me!”
Brian looked at me like I’d just slapped him. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I’m always with you! We work together, we live together—how much closer can we get?”
“That’s not what I mean!” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I didn’t care. “You’re here, but you’re not really here. You don’t look at me the same way anymore. You don’t—”
“Stop,” he cut me off, his voice calm but firm. “That’s not true, and you know it. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
His words should have soothed me. They should have made me feel safe. But instead, they only made the anger flare hotter. “Then why do I feel so alone?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Brian’s face softened, and he took a step closer, reaching for my hand. “Y/N, I’m right here. You’re not alone. But something’s going on with you, and you won’t talk to me about it.”
I yanked my hand away, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m fine,” I muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.
But I wasn’t. I wasn’t fine, and I was pushing him away without even meaning to. I could see it in his eyes—the worry, the frustration, the helplessness. He didn’t know how to fix this, and neither did I.
That night, we went to bed without saying another word. Brian turned his back to me, and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of my own silence pressing down on me. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him I was scared, that I didn’t know what was happening to me. But the words wouldn’t come.
All I could do was lie there and wonder how much longer we could keep pretending that everything was okay.
Chapter 5:
The firehouse was unusually quiet that night. It was the kind of quiet that crept into your bones, making you restless. We were on the second day of a 48-hour shift, and exhaustion hung in the air. Normally, a shift like this didn’t faze me—adrenaline and routine kept me going. But tonight, my head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. The migraine was pounding behind my eyes, a dull, throbbing pain that no amount of coffee could fix.
I rubbed my temples, trying to will the headache away. Brian had noticed it earlier in the shift and offered me some Tylenol, but I turned him down. There was something about this headache that felt different, heavier. And I was already on edge—there was no way I wanted to dull my senses while on duty.
I kept my distance from the crew tonight, choosing to sit quietly at the kitchen table, nursing my coffee and staring blankly at the TV. Normally, I’d be laughing with the rest of them, especially Brian and Cruz, who were busy trading ridiculous jokes and stories. But I couldn’t focus on any of it. The migraine had lodged itself deep in my skull, making every sound feel like nails on a chalkboard.
I was counting down the hours. Only eight more hours of this shift. And then, finally, Brian and I could go home, grab food from the new Wingstop, and just unwind. It had been a long week, and I was craving something normal, something that would remind me of the simplicity of us. I clung to the thought of getting those wings together. It was the one thing keeping me grounded, the one thing I was looking forward to after the chaos of the last two days.
As if on cue, Brian wandered over to me, his smile easy as always, though I could see the concern lingering in his eyes.
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down across from me. “How’s your head?”
I forced a small smile, though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. “Still there, but it’ll pass. Just need to get through these last few hours.”
“We’re almost done,” Brian said, his hand reaching out to gently brush mine. “And then it’s Wingstop time, right? I’m starving.”
I nodded, feeling a small flicker of relief. “Yeah, can’t wait. Been thinking about it all day.”
Brian paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Actually… about that. I just grabbed Wingstop with Cruz an hour ago. Didn’t realize you’d still want it tonight. You cool with grabbing something else?”
The words barely registered at first. They came out so casually, so matter-of-fact. But as they sank in, I felt a sharp, searing heat rise in my chest. My fingers tightened around the coffee mug in my hand as the rage swelled, unbidden and uncontrollable. I blinked, my vision blurring for a moment as my heart pounded in my ears.
“Wait, what?” I could hear the edge in my voice, sharp and venomous, even as I tried to keep it together. “You just had Wingstop? You knew we were supposed to get it together after shift.”
Brian’s eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden shift in my tone. “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. We can still get it if you want. I’ll eat it with you, no problem.”
“No,” I snapped, the word flying out before I could stop it. “I don’t want it anymore.”
Brian frowned, confusion and concern mingling on his face. “Y/N, what’s going on? It’s just food. If you want Wingstop, we’ll get Wingstop. It’s not a big deal.”
But to me, it was a big deal. It felt like everything—the headache, the exhaustion, the tension between us—was boiling over, and this one tiny thing had pushed me over the edge. I could feel it happening, the anger building into something unstoppable, and I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
“You always do this!” I shouted, my voice breaking as the room seemed to close in around me. “You say one thing and then turn around and do whatever you want! Do you even care about what I want anymore? All I wanted was this shift to end so we could finally go home and have a normal night together. But no—of course you couldn’t even wait for me to get the food we talked about!”
“Y/N,” Brian said softly, reaching out to touch my arm, “I didn’t mean—”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I jerked away from him, my heart racing as the room fell silent. Everyone was staring now—Cruz, Mouch, Sylvie, Herrmann. Even Chief Boden, who had been standing by the door, was watching with furrowed brows.
I could feel my hands shaking, my vision blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. “All I wanted,” I choked out, my voice trembling, “was a little quality time with my boyfriend. But instead, I get stuck on this miserable shift with a migraine and a boyfriend who only cares about himself.”
The words hung in the air like poison, and as soon as they left my mouth, I felt something inside me shatter. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I didn’t even recognize myself in that moment. This wasn’t me.
Brian stood there, frozen, his face pale with shock and hurt. “Y/N, I…”
But before he could say anything else, it was like a switch had flipped. The anger drained out of me as quickly as it had come, leaving me feeling hollow and confused. I blinked, wiping my tear-streaked face as I straightened my posture, suddenly aware of the silence in the room.
“Why… why am I crying?” I asked, my voice soft, bewildered. I looked around at everyone’s faces—confusion, concern, shock—all eyes on me. The pressure in my head eased slightly, the migraine fading as quickly as it had come.
Without another word, I turned and walked to the bathroom, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing down on me like a heavy fog.
Chapter 6:
I spent a long time in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was flushed, my eyes red from crying, but it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that scared me. It was the blank space in my mind, the way the anger had flared so hot and fast, only to disappear without a trace. I didn’t remember half of what I’d said, and what I did remember felt like it had come from someone else’s mouth, not mine.
I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but it was getting worse. And I was terrified.
When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, I saw Brian waiting for me by the door. His face was etched with worry, but his voice was calm and steady when he spoke. “Chief wants to see us in his office.”
My stomach dropped. I nodded silently and followed him down the hall, my footsteps heavy, my heart pounding in my chest. Chief Boden rarely called anyone into his office unless it was serious. And this? This was definitely serious.
When we stepped into the office, Chief was sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable. He gestured for us to sit, and the tension in the room was thick as we did. Brian sat next to me, close but not touching, his hands resting tensely in his lap.
“Y/N,” Chief Boden began, his deep voice gentle but firm. “Brian explained what’s been going on with you lately. I need you to listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
“I’ve seen my share of stress in this job. I’ve seen how it can affect people—physically, mentally, emotionally. But what happened out there today wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t safe. For you or for anyone else. You’ve been one of the best firefighters on this team, but I can’t have you putting yourself or others at risk.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a cold blanket.
“I’m not asking,” Chief continued, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’m ordering you to go to Chicago Med. You’re not coming back on shift until the doctors clear you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Chief, I—”
“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said, his voice softening but still firm. “You need to get checked out. Something’s going on, and you can’t ignore it anymore.”
I felt Brian’s hand brush against mine, a silent show of support, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t face the disappointment in his eyes. All I could do was nod again, feeling a wave of helplessness crash over me.
“Take the rest of the day,” Chief said. “Go to Med. We’ll be here for whatever you need, but you’re not coming back until you get answers.”
Brian stood up, helping me to my feet as we left the office in silence. I could barely process what had just happened—how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. As we walked out of the firehouse and towards the car
Chapter 7:
The ride to Chicago Med was eerily quiet. Brian drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight, his gaze focused on the road. I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, my mind a blur of confusion, guilt, and fear. Every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of pain through my skull, but it wasn’t just the migraine anymore—it was the uncertainty gnawing at my insides. Something was wrong with me. Deep down, I knew that now. But the thought of facing it, of having a doctor tell me what was happening… I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.
Brian didn’t say much during the drive, and I was grateful for that. I wasn’t sure what I would have said if he’d asked me how I was feeling. How was I supposed to explain the emptiness inside me, the way I felt like a stranger in my own body?
As we pulled into the parking lot of Chicago Med, Brian finally spoke, his voice soft but steady. “I’m coming in with you.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to argue. I didn’t want to do this alone. I didn’t want to walk into that hospital and face whatever it was that had been slowly unraveling me. And as much as I hated feeling vulnerable, I needed him with me.
The bright lights of the hospital stung my eyes as we walked through the automatic doors, the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting me like a wall. Brian led the way, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding me through the bustling halls. We didn’t have to wait long before we were ushered into an exam room by a nurse, who took my vitals and asked the standard questions.
Then, there was more waiting.
I sat on the exam table, swinging my legs back and forth, my hands folded tightly in my lap. Brian stood next to me, close enough that our arms brushed every now and then, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough—steady, calming, even though I knew he was as scared as I was.
After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and Dr. Will Halstead walked in. I knew him well—he’d treated me a few times before, and he was a friend of ours outside of work. But today, he didn’t greet me with the usual smile or lighthearted joke. His expression was serious, concerned.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, glancing between me and Brian as he took a seat on the stool across from us. “I hear you’ve been having some… unusual symptoms.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”
Will frowned, his brow furrowing as he flipped through my chart. “Brian filled me in on what’s been going on. The headaches, the mood swings, the memory loss… we’re going to run a few tests to get a clearer picture. I know it’s scary, but we need to figure out what’s causing all of this.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “Do you have any idea what it could be?”
Will hesitated, and that hesitation sent a chill down my spine. “There are a few possibilities,” he said carefully, “but I don’t want to jump to conclusions until we have more information. We’re going to start with a CT scan to get a look at what’s going on inside your brain.”
Inside my brain.
The words echoed in my head, sending a fresh wave of panic through me. I glanced at Brian, who was watching me closely, his expression unreadable. He reached out, taking my hand in his, and I squeezed it tightly, my pulse racing beneath my skin.
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 8:
The waiting was the worst part.
After the CT scan, they sent me back to the exam room to wait while the results were processed. Every second that ticked by felt like an hour. I sat there, nervously tapping my foot on the floor, while Brian paced back and forth in front of me. His anxiety was palpable, and it mirrored the panic building in my chest. I didn’t know what was worse—the not knowing, or the fear of what we were about to find out.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Will came back into the room, holding a manila folder in his hand. His expression was serious—too serious. My stomach twisted into knots as I watched him sit down again, the air between us heavy with tension.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice low, “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. The CT scan showed something concerning.”
I felt Brian’s hand tighten around mine, his grip almost painfully strong. I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight, my heart pounding in my ears. “What is it?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Will took a deep breath, his eyes soft with sympathy. “You have a tumor in your brain. It’s located in the frontal lobe, which explains the mood swings and memory lapses you’ve been experiencing. It’s putting pressure on the surrounding areas, which is likely causing the migraines as well.”
A tumor. The word hit me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs. I stared at Will, uncomprehending, as if he’d just spoken a foreign language.
A tumor. In my brain.
I felt the world tilt beneath me, everything spinning out of control. My heart pounded in my chest, and I was suddenly aware of every sound, every breath, every sensation. Brian’s hand in mine, Will’s steady gaze, the sterile scent of the hospital—all of it felt too real, too overwhelming.
“I—I don’t understand,” I stammered, shaking my head. “A tumor? How…?”
Will nodded gently, leaning forward, his tone careful but honest. “It’s a lot to process, I know. But the good news is that we caught it early. It’s operable, which means we can remove it. We’re going to need to schedule surgery as soon as possible.”
Surgery. Tumor. The words swirled in my head, but none of them made sense. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was healthy. I was a firefighter—I fought through flames, saved lives. I wasn’t supposed to be the one lying in a hospital bed, waiting for a doctor to cut into my skull.
I felt my hands start to tremble, and suddenly, the weight of everything came crashing down on me. The months of mood swings, the fights with Brian, the outbursts I couldn’t control—it all made sense now. There was a tumor inside me, something foreign and dangerous, controlling me from the inside out.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears started to fall. “Brian… I’m so sorry.”
Brian’s arms were around me in an instant, pulling me close as I sobbed into his chest. “No,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. None of this is your fault.”
“But I—” I tried to speak, but the words were lost in the sobs that shook my body. All the anger, the fear, the guilt—I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I’ve been awful to you. I didn’t know…”
Brian held me tighter, his hand running through my hair as he pressed his cheek to the top of my head. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “None of it matters. We’re going to get through this. You’re going to be okay.”
I wanted to believe him, but all I could think about was the word that Will had said: tumor.
Chapter 9:
We left Chicago Med in a daze. The world outside felt too normal, too calm, compared to the storm raging inside me. The sky was still a brilliant blue, people walked down the street, completely oblivious to the fact that my life had just been turned upside down. Brian drove in silence, his hand resting on mine, squeezing gently every so often as if he was reminding himself I was still there. I couldn’t get the word out of my head—tumor.
It felt like some terrible nightmare, one that I hadn’t woken up from yet. Except this wasn’t a nightmare. This was real, and no amount of blinking or pinching myself would make it go away.
We pulled into the firehouse parking lot. I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to face the crew and see their reactions when they found out. But we had to. They were my family—they deserved to know.
As soon as we stepped inside, I could feel the weight of everyone’s stares. They knew something was wrong. Cruz and Mouch were sitting on the couch, glancing at us with concern. Herrmann, sitting at the table, stood up as soon as he saw us, his brow furrowed.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice cautious.
I looked at Brian, but the words got stuck in my throat. How was I supposed to tell them? How was I supposed to explain that everything I’d been through over the past few months wasn’t just stress or exhaustion, but something far more terrifying?
Brian took a deep breath, his voice low and steady. “We went to Chicago Med. Will Halstead ran some tests on Y/N.” He paused, his grip on my hand tightening. “They found a tumor. In her brain.”
The room went silent.
It was like the air had been sucked out of the firehouse. I could see the shock ripple across their faces, the confusion, the fear. Cruz’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. Boden stepped forward, his eyes filled with quiet understanding.
“A tumor?” Herrmann repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “What does that mean? Is it… is it serious?”
I took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s operable,” I said, the words sounding distant, as if someone else were speaking them. “They’re scheduling the surgery soon. I’ll… I’ll be okay. That’s what Will said.”
But as I said it, I wasn’t sure if I believed it. The fear gnawed at my insides, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. How could I be sure everything would be okay when nothing felt okay right now?
There was a long, heavy pause before Boden spoke. “We’re going to be here for you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of quiet authority. “Whatever you need—whether it’s before, during, or after the surgery—you’re not going through this alone.”
The words should have brought me comfort, but instead, they only made the knot in my chest tighten. I didn’t want to be the one who needed help. I didn’t want to be the one who was weak, who was sick. I was a firefighter. I was supposed to be strong, to take care of others. Not the other way around.
But now, everything had changed.
I couldn’t hold it back any longer. The sobs broke through, my chest heaving as I tried to breathe, to speak. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
Boden stepped closer, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said softly.
But I did. I was sorry for everything—for the outbursts, for the way I’d lashed out at Brian, for the times I’d scared the crew with my unpredictability. I felt like I was falling apart, unraveling at the seams, and I couldn’t stop it.
Brian pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as the tears streamed down my face. I felt everyone’s eyes on us, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t hold anything back anymore. I cried for everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the guilt.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered into Brian’s chest, my voice trembling. “I don’t know how to be this person. I don’t know how to… how to be weak.”
Brian’s voice cracked as he held me even closer. “You’re not weak,” he whispered fiercely. “You’ve never been weak, Y/N. You’re the strongest person I know. And you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re all here for you—for whatever you need.”
I shook my head, pulling back just enough to look up at him, my eyes red and swollen. “But I’ve been so awful to you. I pushed you away. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I—”
“Stop,” he cut me off, his voice thick with emotion. “None of that matters now. None of it. You were scared, and you didn’t know why. But we know now. And we’re going to fix it. Together.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted so badly to believe that everything would be okay. But the fear was still there, lurking in the background, whispering that things might never be the same again.
The crew stepped forward one by one, each offering words of support, hugs, and quiet reassurances. It was overwhelming—feeling so much love and care when all I felt inside was fear. I wanted to tell them how much it meant to me, how grateful I was, but the words got stuck in my throat.
Finally, Boden spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. “You need to rest, Y/N. Go home, get some sleep, and prepare for the surgery. We’ll be with you every step of the way.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep with everything swirling inside me. But I appreciated the sentiment. I appreciated all of them.
Brian took my hand, and we started to leave. As we walked out of the firehouse, I looked back at the crew—my family—standing there, watching us with worried eyes. They believed in me. They believed I could get through this.
I just wished I could believe it too.
Chapter 10:
The night before the surgery was the longest night of my life.
Brian and I went back to our apartment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between us wasn’t filled with tension or misunderstanding. It was just… heavy. There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do but wait. I could see the worry etched into Brian’s face every time I caught him glancing at me. He tried to hide it, but I knew him too well.
We made dinner, but I could barely eat. The thought of surgery, of having someone cut into my brain, was too much to bear. I pushed the food around on my plate, my stomach churning with anxiety.
Brian eventually took my hand, pulling me into the living room. We sat on the couch, and I rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as he gently stroked my hair. His touch was soothing, grounding me when my mind started to spiral.
“I’m scared,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” Brian whispered back, his voice soft and full of love. “I’m scared too. But you’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through this.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to hold onto his words like a lifeline. But the fear, the uncertainty—it was all-consuming. I couldn’t shake the thought that something could go wrong, that I might not wake up after the surgery, that everything could change in a matter of hours.
“What if…” I started, my voice trembling. “What if something happens? What if I’m not the same after?”
Brian’s hand stilled in my hair, and he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were filled with so much love, so much emotion, that it took my breath away.
“No matter what happens,” he said softly, “I’m here. I love you, Y/N. Nothing’s going to change that.”
The tears welled up again, and I blinked them away, trying to stay strong. But Brian’s words broke something inside me, and before I knew it, I was sobbing, my whole body shaking as I clung to him.
“I don’t want to lose myself,” I cried. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” Brian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You won’t lose me. You’re not going anywhere, Y/N. You’re stronger than this. We’ll face whatever comes next together.”
I buried my face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around me, and for the first time that night, I allowed myself to believe him.
#brian zvonecek#otis zvonecek#brian otis zvonecek#chicago#chicago fire#chicago pd#otis chicago fire#otis#Brian zvonecek x reader#Brian zvonecek imagines#Brian zvonecek fluff#Brian zvonecek angst#joe cruz#Stella kidd#matt casey#gabby dawson#christopher herrmann#mouch#kelly severide#capp#chicago fire imagine#chicago fire fanfiction#chicago fire x reader#taylor kinney#crotis#Brian zvonecek x fem reader#Brian zvonecek imagine#otis imagines#otis angst#otis fluff
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“How did you survive out there for so long?”
“There was someone taking care of me. Without them, I wouldn’t have.”
#back to classes finally and I’m already excited for ceramics this semester#I already made a little clay bear#I’m not sure what to name him#probably Otis after the Katmai park Otis#whump#fear#angst#caretaker#team#injured#whump prompt#whump tropes#whump ideas#recovery whump
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Hanahaki Disease: Wasted Love Part 1
Helen Otis x Reader
Warning: Fluff, sad, angst, cheating, fighting, mentions of violence, torture, death
Please enjoy...
🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀
A quiet wind blew through the meadow that you currently laid in. Small violets and sweet bee balm grew thick on the ground. You had been sprawled out in the sun, reading a good book that caught your eye a week ago and had finally gotten ahold of. The warm day had made you feel drowsy and after a few hours of devouring the book, sleep took over your dreary senses. In no time you had closed your eyes and fallen asleep.
Your dreams were peaceful for a time until you heard distant shouting. Your dream self began running but you weren't scared. You were nearing a cliff as a voice behind you called your name. The voice sounded loud and impatient. It echoed all around you as your body began to shake. Right before you could see over the cliff's edge, your eyes opened.
Late afternoon sun greeted your (e/c) eyes. You gently rubbed your eyes and yawned. As you sat up, your book flopped onto the ground.
"Shoot!" You muttered. Now you'd have to scour the pages to find where you stopped.
"You snore you know."
You snapped your head towards the voice. A blond boy in a green graphic tee and sweat pants knelt next to you with a smirk on his narrow face. His red eyes dripped blood as he snickered in amusement.
You scowled, "No, Ben. I wouldn't know if I snored because I'm asleep."
Ben shrugged, "Yeah and you sleep heavy. It took sooo much effort to wake you up!" He exaggerated with a sigh.
You swatted his arm as you stood.
"Hey!!" He whined.
"Deserve it." You smiled to yourself as you heard Ben scramble after you. You had collected your book and headed for the mansion. "Anyway, where is your Zelda costume? I didn't know you wore other things."
Ben scoffed, "It is not a costume! It is a masterpiece. Besides, I wear other clothes, I just have preferences. Today I wanted sweats." He patted his legs to make his point.
You laughed lightly. Ben always got you giggling at something and his current antics were no exception. He noticed this and stuck his tongue out at you. You gasped in mock offense before laughing harder.
Soon the mansion came in view. You stared at the melancholy building that you dubbed home years ago. Despite it housing serial killers, you loved every inch. As you ascended the steps you turned back to Ben.
"Why did you wake me up?"
Ben smirked again. "Your manly love is coming home tonight from his mission." He said in a mock baby voice.
You ignored his incessant teasing as your thought began to spiral. Finally! After two long and seemingly endless months, Helen, your Helen, was coming home. You missed your boyfriend dearly and thought he was going to be gone a week. But that turned to two, which was three, then six and ten. You had watched the clock and counted down the days for his arrival.
"When is he coming home, Ben?" You asked.
"Tonight, doll. Helen and Puppeteer should be here and Slendy has an announcement." Ben rolled his eyes at your lack of a reaction.
You beamed at Ben as you nudged him inside. Once in doors Ben headed for the living room. You waved him bye before making it upstairs. Your room was your safe haven and decorated to your style. Beside your bed sat a photograph of you and Helen in a tree. It was taken when you first started dating. You had been looking for Helen after receiving a note to go and find him. Eventually you discovered him in the tree, sketching the mansion. You climbed up to him and he had kissed you lovingly. The picture was taken unknowingly by Ben, who gifted it to you on your birthday. Now it sat in a wooden frame painted red and blue by Helen. It was a beautiful memory and a keepsake present for you to admire.
"Soon you'll be home." You whispered.
You and Helen had met when you first became a creepypasta. He was a shy boy who loved to paint in his room. Of course the observing boy caught your attention. His beautiful eyes stared right back at yours with a hard gaze. They never left you, even after you turned away from him. His blue eyes bore into the back of your head. After several more encounters of you making light conversation and Helen listening to your every word, he finally asked you out.
It took a very long time (six months) for Helen to have mostly opened up to you. Once he adjusted to your presence he began talking. With that milestone under wraps, you realized that quiet Helen had more to say than he lead on. Not only did he talk to you in a gentle and sarcastic manner, Helen had a large vocabulary. Soon his words drew you in more than his looks and attitude. Eventually, neither of you could deny it. You were both smitten with each other, and the affection was still growing.
Now it has been three years of you being together. Well, almost because your three year anniversary was coming up in a month. This excited you beyond belief and you felt light as air when Ben told you Helen would be home soon.
You paced your room in buzzing anticipation. You still had at least a few more hours to wait, so in the meantime you decided to bathe and put on fresh smelling clothes. As warm water filled the tub, you poured lavender Epsom salts in for them to dissolve. Quickly stripping, you eagerly stepped into the soothing water. A sigh of content left your lips and quelled your excitement some. You washed your body with your favorite soaps and slowly rinsed it off. It didn't matter that it was a rather warm day, the water felt luxurious on your skin.
After a while of soaking the water was nearly cold. So you peeled yourself out of the tub and dried off with a soft towel. The fresh clothes you brought was a pair of sleep shorts and a baggy shirt with small orange flowers printed on the cotton fabric. When your hair was dry and brushed you left the bathroom to lounge on your bed.
Your intention was to look at your book and find your unmarked page then head down stairs to eat. One of those things would never happen as you ran to the bed and practically threw your body at a masked boy, who was sprawled on your bed. Despite being dressed in his signature outfit, your boyfriend looked clean of blood and grime. In fact he looked immaculate in your eyes.
"Your back Helen!" You squealed.
You landed on the boy's relaxing form. He still wore his mask, which he strated to remove, before being pummeled back into the bed. Helen wrapped his arms around your waist as you buried your face in his chest.
"I've really missed you." You snuggled as close as your body could get. Helen's chest rumbled with enthusiasm as he let out a small laugh. He ran his long, slender fingers through your hair and gently rubbed your shoulders.
"So have I, Y/N." Helen's smooth voice, which held a faint French accent, calmed your nerves. The knot of emotions tied tightly in your stomach gradually unraveled. You felt your muscles relax against Helen, who hugged you close.
"Two months is to long, Helen."
Helen petted your head, "I am here now, Y/N. No need to fret."
You laid there for what felt like a few minutes, but was actually an hour. Helen told you of what happened in those two months. He and Pup were stalking a rich guy who had valuable information Slenderman needed. They followed him through five different States and eventually cornered him in New York where they tortured information out of him. As Helen spoke, you hummed along matching your breathing to his. It looked like you could fall asleep, and maybe you would. But you were currently invested in his story and periodically asking if he had gotten hurt and if he was ok. Helen caressed your back as he nodded yes and patiently answered your many questions. Eventually your peace was broken by none other than a pleading call from your stomach.
"Helen, I'm hungary." You complained as you raised your head to look at him.
"I heard loud and clear." Helen smirked.
"Oh!" You flicked his arm as your face reddened faintly. This caused Helen to laugh and you shook your head.
"I love you, Y/N." Helen whispered.
You beamed, "I love you, too."
Helen hugged you tightly but you pulled away after a second. Helen tilted his head in confusion. You reached up and pulled his mask away.
"That is much better." You breathed through your teeth.
"Agreed." Helen cupped your face and leaned in to kiss you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Helen grinned. He broke away to kiss your cheek and down to your jaw. He brushed his lips on your neck before sucking on it with a sweet tenderness that made your stomach flutter. After a successful hickey bruised your skin, he licked the spot and blew on it. You shivered and felt a sudden wave of nervousness. Helen smiled at how flustered he made you before kissing your lips softly. The kiss, though chaste and short, left you breathless.
Helen leaned back to admire your face. Your heart was beating fast as you waited in anticipation. Then out of nowhere a strange gurgling noise met you ears. Instead, Helen blushed.
"Come my lovely." Helen said after a moment. He began to sit up and you followed him. "We are both evidently famished and I heard we have a meeting tonight or something."
You grasped his hand and you both left the room. You still felt light as a feather as you walked beside Helen's poised figure. His tall, lanky frame and long blue coat hid his built form and gave him a rugged and boyish appearance. Helen was stronger than he appeared and more graceful then expected.
You smiled as you descended the broad staircase and went into the kitchen. Slenderman greeted you kindly and you saw Puppeteer lounging in a chair talking to, or at least trying to, Hobo Heart. The poor guy looked ready to cry. You chuckled to yourself as you sat at the counter. Slender gave both of you a plate of fettuccini, to which you thanked him and started eating.
You weren't half way done when someone called your name. You turned to see Jane making her way over to you. She was dressed in a lovely black beaded dress and matching heels. Satin gloves without finger tips ran up to her elbows. Her luscious ebony hair graced her shoulders. Perfectly round pearls hung from her ears that matched her white skin.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she sat down beside you. Slender gave her a plate and she started eating. "So guess what Y/N." She said, irritable.
"What?" You were mildly intrigued. Jane was a good friend, but all your brain could process was how enjoyable it was to be on cloud 9.
Jane smiled sarcastically, "We have a newcomer."
You thought a moment. "That is the announcement." You said this as a statement more than a question but Jane replied anyway.
"Her name is Olive. She is a real beauty but don't underestimate her." Jane spoke with near venom as she glanced at you.
"I assume you know her?" You asked hesitantly. "What did she do?"
Jane sighed before turning to face you, "Yes, I know Olive. We were friends for a while but nevermind what happened. You are a good friend of mine and I don't want you getting to close to her. There is more to Olive than you think." While saying this, Jane looked you dead in the eyes. "Promise you won't interact with her more than necessary."
You were taken aback by Jane's attitude, but nodded. Jane sighed again before leaving. You watched her leave in surprise at her abrupt visit and departure. She hadn't even finished her food. "What a waste..." You thought before turning to speak to Helen, only to discover him gone. You shrugged and scanned the room for his piercing eyes. Upon not seeing him, you ventured into the living room.
You sat next to Ben, who was playing Mario Cart, but paused when he saw you sit beside him. He swung his feet onto your lap. At first you didn't notice because you were thinking about where Helen had gone. Ben then wrapped his legs around your waist and pulled you close. This brought your focus back. Looking down, you growled.
"Let go Ben." You glared at his smug face
"Hmm..." Ben tapped his chin. "Nah!"
Rolling your eyes you shoved his legs off, only for him to slap them back on your lap. "Ben!!" You groaned.
"Y/N!!" He mocked you.
"SLENDY!!!"
"Stop your crap Ben." Masky said as he walked through the doorway.
Ben grunted and removed his feet. You smile victoriously just for Ben to stick his tongue out at you. Masky flicked Ben's head as he sat in the rickety rocker by the t.v. Hoodie also came in and sat on the couch. He had a bowel of fettuccini in one hand and a bloody hatchet in the other.
"Why do you have Toby's hatchet?" You asked absentmindedly.
Hoodie shook his head, "Not Toby's, it is for the newcomer."
You thought about what Jane had said. She wants you to stay away from her as much as possible. You figured you would since it made her so upset, which was unlike her. The new girl was going to have a hatchet as a murder weapon. You vaguely wondered about it as you thought of Helen. He disappeared without a word, which was normal, but he just got back from a long mission. Maybe Slendy called him or he was taking a shower.
You were getting ready to go find him when Slenderman came down the stairs. Jeff was behind him with Sally on his hip. EJ took up the rear before he, Jeff, and Sally came to sit with us. Slender pulled back the curtains and looked out the window. The room was silent, even Ben stopped his game to wait for Slender to speak. Soon he unlocked the door and it swung open.
"She is here."
🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀
Note: I will have part 2 posted soon. I apologize for any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only part 1 and I promise it will get more angst as the story progresses.
Thanks for reading💐
#creepypasta x reader#Creepypasta#Helen Otis#Helen x reader#Helen creepypasta#Creepypasta Helen#Bloody Painter#Bloody Painter x reader#Bloody Painter creepypasta#Creepypasta Bloody Painter#Hanahaki Disease#Hanahaki#Hanahaki Disease creepypasta#Creepypasta angst#Helen otis x reader angst#Bloody Painter x reader angst
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List of “I love you being met with a response which makes you regret letting those three words slip out of your mouth” prompts
“…I’m sorry.”
“You know, maybe this is all in your imagination?”
“I think you’re getting it really wrong here.”
“That’s… Cool. Um, look, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“You don’t love me. Stop lying to yourself.”
“Your jokes are really starting to take a nose-dive.”
“…Did I give you the wrong impression?”
“You don’t even know me that well so how can you love me?”
“See, that’s where I know you’re lying, because I’m incapable of being loved.”
“You’re actually delusional, aren’t you?”
“No, you don’t. Please tell me you don’t.”
“So… Is there a punchline to this?”
“Funny joke you have there. Wait. It’s not a joke?”
“Don’t you fucking dare say that, right after I’ve just moved on from you. How fucking— wow.”
“Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it.”
#i was watching sex education season 3 edits and came across the heartbreaking scene of ruby telling otis those three words#and OTIS COMPLETELY FUMBLING IT FUCKKKK#so yeah this is inspired by that#angst prompts#dialogue prompts#prompts#writing prompts#otp prompts
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Of Love And War || B.P
Pairing : Bloody Painter// Helen Otis X Reader Genre : Angst, fluff, yandere (also x hogwarts) Summary : Helen had always been in love with yoou. What will he do when he has to choose between the dark arts and you? Wordcount:7k Triggers: uhh, people die, Helen’s obv crazy,, Harry Potter spoilers I think that’s it, oh also reader isn’t entirely sane either
[ A/N: It took a while, but it’s finally here. : ) ]
Hogwarts, 1st year
" Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. I see you haven't got a project partner yet. Wanna partner up? "
Helen glanced up from his desk as he's approached. He's aware of who you are. You're nice, a stereotypical Hufflepuff. The only thing that sets you apart from your housemates is that you've actually got a bite to your bark when provoked.
This makes you quite popular amongst your housemates.
" Why? Did your friends ditch you? " Helen snaps back rudely.
His housemate, Theodore Nott, snorts. Helen doesn't get why he's listening in, but as long as Nott won't bother him, he doesn't care.
" They partnered up with each other. If you don't want to be partners, that's fine, I'll just find someone else. " You shrug, seemingly unbothered by his rude attitude.
You turn around to walk off, but before you can take a step, Helen suddenly finds his own hand clasped loosely around your wrist.
" No, I need a partner too anyway, when can we meet? "
-
" Hey Otis! " Draco Malfoy calls out into the commonroom as soon as Helen enters.
Helen sighs, not in the mood for Malfoy's bullshit.
" Yes? "
" So, L/N, huh? I didn't estimate you to be that low. She's a muggle born, is she not? " He scoffs, a disgusted look on his face.
Helen barely glances his way.
" I'm surprised to know that you manage to find time to butt into my business, Malfoy. If I were you, I'd study more for Charms. Your last grades were rather, embarrassing... Were they not? "
Draco's eyes widen. No one's ever spoken to him like that before, but then again, he's never bothered to cross paths with Helen before.
-
Hogwarts, Year 2
" Y/N, what are you doing here? " Helen whispers harshly as he spots his best and only friend.
" What? Oh, hi Helen. I was looking for a good book to read. Why, is something wrong? " You ask him.
" There's a monster loose who's out for muggle borns and you're casually hanging out by yourself. Don't do that. " He crosses his arms as he stands beside you.
" Don't worry. I'll be okay. Besides, it's broad daylight-"
" I doubt the monster would care. Do me a favor, just stick around me. "
Your big eyes look up at Helen's words, before your lips turn up into a teasing smirk.
" Awe, do you actually care about me? "
He raises a brow at you.
" Of course I do. You're the only person who's... I don't know, durable, I guess. " He shrugs.
" I find you durable too. "
-
Hogwarts, Year 3
" Helen? "
Said male woke up at the sound of his name being called.
" Huh, what is it Y/N? " He grumbles.
All of the students have been gathered in the great hall, the reason for it being Sirius Black on the loose.
" Can I sleep beside you? " You ask him, no further explanation said.
He slightly opens his eyes, glancing at you. Once he realizes you're most probably scared, he nods.
" Yeah, whatever. "
And so you take the sleepingbag beside him. He's surprised you don't immediately quack his head off like you usually do, instead, you get into a comfortable position, and close your eyes.
Helen can't help himself. He keeps looking at you for a while. He never really realized, but you really are gorgeous.
It doesn't take long before you've drifted off.
Neither of you mention it when you wake up cuddled into each other.
-
Hogwarts, Year 4
" Helen, look at how cute this creature is! " You yell as you thrust the book of magical creatures you're looking at in his face.
Helen blinks, needing a few minutes to be able to read what's on the page.
" Bowtruckles? Really? They're not cute, they're pests. "
You blink.
" You say that as if you've seen them before. "
" Because I have. They live in the trees behind the mansion I live in. " Helen says unimpressed, pushing your book aside to go back to reading his homework.
" Wait so you have?-"
" Yes I have, no I will not show you. Also stop blabbering, and focus on your homework for once. " He says, smiling wryly at the end.
He takes your book gently, closing it and setting it aside. Once it's placed on the table, he places a hand behind your head, suddenly pulling you close.
" Study. " He says, his voice giving you shivers before he pulls away again.
You blush faintly as he pulls away.
Had Helen always been that attractive?
-
" I dare you to swap wands with Y/N for a whole day. " Lui grins evilly.
You cough, before choking and eventually breathing again.
" What? That's not fair. My wand is the biggest traitor in the world, it works for almost everyone. Helen's is more loyal than,, I don't even know. That's how loyal it is." You complain.
Helen grins, holding his wand out to you. You huff and roll your eyes, before holding in out your own as well.
" Please don't listen to him." You whisper to your wand as you hand it to him.
Helen snorts, taking yours as you take his.
About twenty minutes later, you're in your defense against th dark arts class, and you feel sweat break out as you're stood on a dueling table, a classmate of yours stood opposite you.
You swallow, glancing down at Helen's wand which you're holding.
Time to test his wands' loyalty.
Your classmate opens her mouth, ready to fire a spell at you, but although nervous, you don't back down.
" Expelliarmus!" You shout.
To your ( and your friends') surprise, your classmate's wand flies out of their fingers.
" Well done Y/N, well done!" Your substitute teacher calls out with a proud grin.
You and Helen blink owlishly at one another.
-
Hogwarts, Year 5
" I think I'm going to join the Inquisitorial Squad. " Helen suddenly says as the two of you are chilling near the Black Lake.
" What? Why? " You ask him.
He shrugs.
" For the extra credit. "
" You don't even need that though, you're top of the class. " You point out as you lay down in the grass.
Helen glances at you for a moment, before scooting closer to you, pulling you into his embrace.
" Promise me you won't engage in any stupid activities. "
-
" Bombarda Maxima. "
Draco seemed smug when he pulls Cho Chang in front of the broken down wall.
Helen felt anything but as his eyes connected with yours.
Why didn't you listen to him?
-
Helen and you barely spoke after he caught you being part of Dumbledore's Army. That doesn't mean he actually let you out of his sight though.
" I caught these two trying to help the Weasley girl! " Draco exclaimed proudly as he walked into Umbridge's office, holding who he recognized to be Neville Longbottom and you.
His cold eyes never left yours the moment you entered the room.
He had originally been called to fetch veritaserum so Umbridge could question Harry Potter.
" I'm afraid you used the last of it already, professor. " He tells Umbridge, though he keeps his eyes on you.
Umbridge opens her mouth, ready to tell him to go fetch Snape, but he's already towering over Draco before a word can leave her mouth.
" Hand her over to me. "
Draco doesn't think twice before pushing you into Helen's arms.
" I thought I told you to stay out of trouble. " He whispers harshly to you.
" Yeah, well, that's pretty hard when she's headmaster. " You bite back.
" Shut it, you'll only get into more trouble. " He hisses.
Meanwhile, Snape has dropped by, Harry said something sketchy to him and now Hermoine's yelling something about a secret weapon.
Moments later, the golden three are out of the room, along with Umbridge.
" Well then-"
" Do with them whatever you like. I'll have a good talk with her. " Helen says before Draco can even finish his sentence.
Next thing you know is that he's roughly pulling you out of the room and into the hallway.
" Hey! No need to be so rough! -"
" If you don't want me to be so rough, fucking listen to me! " He yells suddenly, slamming you into the wall.
You blink, fear slowly seeping into you. He's never been rough with you. Nor have you ever seen him mad before.
When he finally catches up to your reaction, he slowly lets go of the shoulder he's had pressed against the wall.
" Look, sorry, but-"
" I'm not someone you can boss around Helen, you should know that by now. " You tell him carefully.
" Boss around?! The only reason I'm bossing you around is because you easily manage to get into trouble- Which I in turn hate, because Umbridge is a major bitch. " He bursts out suddenly, running a hand through his hair.
He turns to look at you, his crystal blue eyes boring into yours with an unusual amount of emotion and affection.
He carefully steps closer to you, and when you don't step away, he cups your face with both of his hands.
" I'm in love with you, Y/N. "
Your eyes widen at his confession. Yes, you most definitely have a crush on him too, but love?
You carefully place your hands on his sides.
" Helen, I like you too. "
He doesn't need to hear anymore as he connects your lips together. He gives you a soft peck, never having kissed anyone before.
He's your first kiss as well, but you're less shy. You move one of the hands on his sides to cup his face, pulling him back to you.
You might not know what the future holds for you, but you believe you'll be okay in the battle against he-who-musn't-be-named with him by your side.
-
Malfoy Manor, summer before 6th year
Helen's monotone expression remains the same as he comes face to face with the dark lord himself.
" Ah, Helen it is? I believe you'll be a great addition to my army. I trust you accept? " The dark lord speaks to him.
Helen doesn't need to look at his parents to know that this is what they want him to do.
" Of course. " He answers, voice holding no tone of flattery.
" Good, good, just the answer I hoped. You see, I've set a mission for your friend, Draco. I, however, believe it's best if you help. " The dark lord tells him.
Helen nods, shortly glancing at Draco who's seemingly trying his best not to quiver.
-
Your eyes widen as you look at the letter your friend Hermoine send you.
Dear Y/N,
Hi, Hermoine here. I was out with Ron and Harry the other day when I saw Malfoy and Otis acting suspicious by Borgin and Burks. I know we're not close, but I thought that Malfoy and Otis weren't either. Just giving you a heads up in case he's now on you-know-who's side.
Can't wait to see you in school!
Hermoine Granger
Did Helen really join him?
-
Hogwarts, Year 6
So far, things have been relatively grim between you and Helen. The two of you talk, as you always do, but sometimes he randomly runs off with Malfoy, sometimes for hours on end, without any explanation.
" What's going on with you and Malfoy? "
Helen looks up as he hears you ask the question he dreads to answer.
" Nothing. We don't talk all that often, why? "
" 'You don't talk that often? ' He literally came to pick you up from our study date yesterday. " You raise a brow.
He sighs, but doesn't say anything otherwise.
" Look, I know you're hiding something. I also feel like it's got something to do with you-know-who being back. I need you to tell me Helen, are we together in the war that will no doubt be coming, or not? "
He remains silent, confirming your fears.
" Okay. I guess I'll see you arou-"
He's pulling you right back down beside him before you can finish your sentence and properly get up from the grass.
" You're right. I'm afraid we won't be on the same team when it comes to the war Y/N." He sighs, his eyes turning sad.
You haven't seen him so emotional since last year, when he confessed his feelings for you. Now, he's got a tight grip on your hand. He's avoiding eye contact, but his deep blue eyes look sad whilst he's looking out on the black lake. You know what it means; he's worried about something.
" This summer wasn't like any other. Malfoy and I were approached by the Dark Lord to join his side. We know better than to say no. Now we've been charged a mission. I won't burden you with what.... " He explains.
You look at your boyfriend, shocked by what he's telling you.
" Just, please tell me, are you asked to kill someone? " You ask, taking the hand he's holding into both of your own.
In return, he pulls you into his side, wrapping the arm you were holding around you as he replaces it with his free hand in your own.
" Yes. "
-
" I once knew a boy, he was quite like you you see, he made all the wrong choices-"
" Get it over with Malfoy. " Helen hisses, stepping out from where he was hidden in the shadows.
" Otis?-"
" I don't need a peptalk. I'm morally much worse than you know. " He says.
Dumbledore could tell he was right. Helen's eyes were dark, filled with some kind of unexplained rage. Like he's been carrying around anger for a very long time.
In a quick attempt to keep Helen from doing what Dumbledore has asked Severus to do, he tries to get through to him.
" What would miss L/N think, Helen? "
" She'll never know. " He says, slipping his wand out of his pocket.
Just as Dumbledore hoped, the sound of more people arriving catches their attention.
" There's others? How? "
" The vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement. It has a twin. "
-
The Burrow, summer after 6th year
" What was the first thing I said to you when Helen became our housemate?! " Link yells as he points his wand at you and his own twin brother Ben.
Ben is quick to react, pulling his own wand out and pointing it back at his twin while he pulls you protectively behind his form.
" What the hell is this about Link-"
" Answer me! "
" That he looks like a damn angel and smells like flowers! " Ben yells frustrated.
You pop your head out from behind his back.
" I mean, I agree- but,, what? "
Link grins, lowering his wand.
" We have to check everyone this way, they knew we were coming. " Link says, stepping inside of the burrow, letting you and Ben in as well.
Today, the trace has finally faded on Harry, and because of that, you, Ben, Link and Lui were helping with bringing him to the Burrow, the Weasleys' household. You had been paired up with Ben (with you morphing into Harry, thanks to the Polyjuice potion. Now, you're thankfully back in your own skin.) Everyone is also staying at least until the wedding of Ron's brother Billy and Fleur.
" George! Are you okay? " You ask as you see him nearly passed out on the couch, his twin by his side as always.
" Oh, yeah, feeling kinda holy, don't worry.-"
" Y/N! Thank Merlin you made it! " Hermoine calls suddenly, running to you to give you a big hug.
" Hermoine! You too." You smile as you return the hug.
It thankfully doesn't take long until the rest arrives.
" Mad eye's dead. Mundunges fled as soon as he saw the first death eater appear. " Billy says, bringing an uncomfortable silence with him.
-
You smile sadly at the couple who're dancing. You're happy for them, truly, but you're also sad, as they remind you of what (or rather who) you're missing.
" Pitty party for one I see, mind if I join? "
You look up from where you seated to see Link standing there.
You snort.
" Sure, sit down. "
" Kind of sad that they're having a wedding right now." You say as soon as he sat down.
" You think so? " He asks in return.
" Yeah, you don't? "
" I think it's rather cute that they choose to die married, kind of. "
" I mean, I guess you could see it like that too. Never expected you to be a 'till death do us part' kind of guy. " You tease.
Understandably so too, Link had always been a player for as long as you knew him.
" What can I say, I suppose I'm full of surprises. "
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you after that for a moment, until he spoke the words you dreaded to hear.
" You know, I saw him. " Link started carefully, looking at your face.
" When we escorted Harry here. He didn't shoot a spell at me, but I can't read him. He didn't exactly seem to be there against his will either-"
" He was forced Link, just like everyone else in that wretched army. "
" I know, but still. You should be careful.... I think there's a chance- DUCK! " Link cut himself off as he threw himself on you, pulling the both of you down.
Death eaters started breaking down the tent, shooting spells left and right. From the corner of your eye, you could see the golden trio apparate.
" Wand out, Y/N." Link says as he gets up, throwing spells right back at them.
You get up too, intending to do the same. However, before you've even properly drawn your wand out, someone knocks you out.
-
When you wake up again, you're in some kind of underground cellar, Luna, and who you recognize to be the wandmaker Ollivander are with you.
" Y/N was it right, are you okay? " Luna asks.
You cough, carefully getting up.
" Uhm, sort of I think? You're Luna right? Luna Lovegood? "
" Yes, that's me. "
" Where are we? What happened? "
" We're in the basement of Malfoy Manor, I'm afraid we're taken. "
-
" We did not manage to catch him, my lord-"
" Fools! How is it, that even a simple task, you cannot manage! " He-who-musn't-be-named booms as he walks over to the poor man, who gulps in fear.
" M-my lord, we did manage to take two girls. We believe they're relatively close to Potter. Mayhaps they could help? " Another, who had been part of the wedding crashing, asked carefully.
The dark lord looked him cold in the eye, contemplating on whether he should kill him or not, but eventually waved him off.
" Get them, perhaps we can get some information out of them. "
The man immediately scrambles off, doing as told.
Draco turns to carefully look at Helen, who's sat beside him. The black haired male was much colder than he had anticipated, in fact, sometimes Helen seemed to enjoy torturing people, hurting them.
He was unbreakable, nothing seemed to get to him.
Until today that is.
-
Helen's eyes widen as he recognized the pair of (E/C) eyes who seemed to stare right back at him.
However, knowing better than to show emotion in this environment, he quickly wiped his emotions off his face.
No one is to know you two were something.
And so he watched. He watched as another death eater started using the cruciatus curse on Luna whilst questioning you. He watched as you didn't give in. He watched as they in turn used the curse on you. He watched with pain as Luna didn't give in. It went on like that for a while, until the dark lord grew impatient.
You didn't look him in the eye once.
" Enough. If they don't want to speak, that's fine. Kill them." He ordered.
Helen felt his heart stop as you finally broke eye contact, hanging your head, ready to die.
" Don't. " Helen says suddenly.
He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't yell, doesn't show any emotion.
The dark lord's cold eyes turn to him now, daring him to give an explanation.
" They'll be no use to us dead. Lovegood's father will look for her. As will Drowned's for Y/N. " He says, not stuttering once.
" Mayhaps, we should sent them a note. Lucius, I trust you own an owl? "
-
Eventually, hours turn into days, and days turn into weeks.
Helen watches you suffer sometimes, not budging with interfering.
Luna was at some point left alone, for she seemed to be more of use as long as she was alive.
You on the other hand? You were close to breaking. The torturing truly got to you, and Helen watched painfully as you turn into the ghost of yourself. Your skin which once shined was now dull and dirty, your hair matted, and you've lost so much weight. Your eyes get to him the most. They don't look at him with the hope you once had for him anymore.
One day, he finally has enough.
" That's enough. She'll die. She'll be useless to us dead. " He stops Bellatrix from murdering you.
" What, it sounds to me as if you have a soft spot for this one, Otis~" Bellatrix laughs cruelly.
" Not at all, Lestrange. But I doubt the dark lord would be happy with her dead when he specifically told you to keep her alive. " Helen glares back, stepping closer.
Due to his height, he towers over her. Her heels barely giving her enough height to make them face to face.
She scoffs, obviously bummed he interrupted her fun.
That night, Helen finally goes down to see you.
" Y/N? " He asks carefully as he opens the door to the cellar.
" H-Helen? " He hears you call back to him.
The basement is dark, and he whispers a small spell to create light.
" Y/N." Helen breaths out as he walks over to where you're cuddles up in a corner.
" Leave her alone! " Luna suddenly jumps in his way, pushing him back.
" Haven't you done enough damage to her?! " She yells, although she keeps her voice soft.
Helen feels a new emotion dwell up in him. He doesn't like Luna. How dare she say that when she didn't budge to say anything when they tortured you?
He can't seem to control himself as he pushes her aside roughly, her head hitting one of the columns.
He doesn't watch to see how she does, instead he stalks over to you.
It scares you to the point where you try to press yourself further into the wall. But he's having none of that, instead taking you into his arms and taking you upto his room.
Once you've arrived in a different room on the third floor, you look at him.
" What are you doing? "
" Saving you. "
" Why? "
Helen glances at your face, but doesn't say anything else.
" Do you need help getting yourself clean in the bathroom? " He asks instead pulling you up with one hand on your lower arm and one on your waist.
He doesn't miss how your skin shivers at his touch.
" No. " You say as you try to push him away.
However, the moment you're on your feet by yourself, you nearly collapse, had it not been for Helen who caught you.
" Seems you do though. "
-
A few weeks later, Malfoy Manor
So far, Helen has been keeping you in his room.
You've been walking around in his clothes, sleeping beside him in his bed and did well by keeping quiet.
He says he's planning an escape for the two of you, but you know better than to believe him.
He's always been calculated and quick, if he had a plan, it would be put to action by now.
Instead, you're left to wait for the right moment.
He's made the stupid mistake of giving you your wand back, with the empty promise that you wouldn't use it.
For now, you can't yet, considering it would most probably only bring you trouble, and impossibly more pain.
Currently, you're seated in the window sill. It's a relatively sunny day out, but of course, you're stuck inside.
The moment you hear footsteps in the hallway, you turn your head to face the door, your hand on your wand beside you.
The door opens, but like always, it's just Helen.
" Hey, how do you feel?" He asks, face void of a smile.
You miss his smile. You miss the Helen you used to know.
You don't respond, instead turning to face the window again.
You hear Helen sighs, before you hear him approach you.
" You wanted to see Bowtruckles sometime, right?" He asks suddenly, pulling out a chair to sit on from the desk beside the window.
You turn to look at him, but don't say anything, though the question is clear in your eyes.
He reaches into his hoodie's pocket, and pulls out a small green twig-leaf like creature.
Your eyes widen.
It's a Bowtruckle.
For the first time in a while, he actually smiles, and holds his hand out to you. And for the first time in a while, you take it.
The Bowtruckle seems to be scared of the both of you, but still jumps onto your hand.
The window sill is low, and as Helen scoots closer, into your personal space bubble.
You put your wand in the same hand which is holding the Bowtruckle, something the creature appreciates.
While you're busy fawning over the Bowtruckle (you even tell Helen you're naming it Twig), Helen has his eyes on you.
This is the happiest he's seen you in a while, and he can't help himself when he turns your face, kissing you full on the lips for the first time.
Your eyes widen, but you don't push him away, instead pulling him in closer with your free hand, you don't even realize when you start crying. He also pulls you in closer, holding the back of your neck.
When the two of you pull away from one another, he wipes your tears.
" I know I've made all the wrong choices, and that I don't deserve you- but please know, I really do love you, Y/N."
-
A few months later, Malfoy Manor
You've always been patient, something you're very grateful for right now.
Finally, today seems to be your lucky day.
" Come. " Helen calls you over suddenly from the doorway of his room.
You were on the other side of the room, looking through the window, aimless on what to do.
" Why? " You ask carefully.
Helen rolls his eyes but walks over to you, taking you by your arm.
" You're going to identify Harry Potter. Don't do anything stupid, I can't do much with the other death eaters around. "
And so, seconds later, you're sat down in front of a man who's most probably Harry Potter.
" I-I don't know. " You stutter out.
You're scared out of your wits, surrounded by some of the people who've tortured you the worst.
" Think harder! " Bellatrix screams at you, making you flinch.
" I really d-don't know. "
" Get Draco. "
Draco, who was just as 'unsure' as you, didn't clear much up either.
However, in a sudden turn of events, Bellatrix spots a sword, and Harry and Ron are ushered to the basement. Bellatrix makes a move to come for you too, but to everyone's surprise, Helen actually draws his wand out.
He wraps a possessive arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close against his body, and raises his wand to her chin within a quick motion.
" Touch her. " He hisses out.
" I fucking dare you. "
Bellatrix glares back at him, hard enough to make you shake in fear.
" You can't keep your pet forever. I'm going to kill her one day or another. " Bellatrix hisses before turning around to torture Hermoine.
When Helen feels you start to shake even worse at Hermoine's screams, he turn you around, pushing your face into his shoulder, as if to offer comfort. The hand which is holding his wand wrapping around your waist.
After a while, it thankfully stops.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bellatrix' wand goes flying.
Harry and Ron come up from the basement, and suddenly you feel something you haven't felt in a while, hope.
However, Bellatrix isn't easily defeated, and brings a dagger up to Hermoine's throat, making Harry and Ron stop as they were fighting Draco and Narcissa.
You're not sure what to expect from there, but then suddenly the chandelier squeaks, and eventually it falls down, as an unfamiliar house elf drops it.
You take this as your moment to run, you elbow Helen hard in the stomach as you run over to Ron, Harry, Hermoine, a gringgotts creature and the house elf, picking up everyone's wands on the way there.
" You stupid elf! You could've killed me! " Bellatrix screams.
Helen just looks at you, emotionless, unreadable.
You don't know what he's thinking.
" Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to seriously injure. " The house elf, you guess Dobby, says.
Narcissa raises her wand to do something about it, but with a click of the house elf's fingers, her wand flies into his hands.
" How dare you take a witch's wand?! How dare you defy your masters?! " Bellatrix screams, outraged.
Dobby stands up straight, the look on his face serious.
" Dobby has no masters. Dobby is a free elf. And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends. " He speaks bravely, before he nudges everyone to hold hands.
The last thing you see is Bellatrix throwing a dagger at you before you disapparate.
When you arrive at the new location, you feel sand. You're momentarily numb to your surroundings. You can't hear anyone, you only see.
Freedom.
Finally.
After only being able to look into the sad yard of Malfoy Manor, you're finally outside.
After a minute, you register the pained screams from Harry, and it takes a moment longer before you've registered that the dagger that Bellatrix had thrown had hit Dobby. And that he's passed now.
Silent tears escape your eyes as you walk over to the group.
" There, he looks more peaceful now. " Luna says as she closes his eyes.
" I'm so sorry. " You whisper.
Luna wraps a kind arm around you, as everyone else is too broken about what happened.
-
" Y/N! " Link yells as he all but runs over to you, wrapping you up in a tight embrace.
" I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have let go of you-"
" Hey, sush, you couldn't have done anything, Link. Nothing could've saved me. " You sniff as you hold him just as tight.
" Still, I'm so sorry. "
" I was so scared." You cry.
Link rubs your back comfortingly, and after a while, you calm down a little.
" I was with him most of the time." You confess.
Link's eyes widen, pulling away from him slightly.
" You mean with Helen? What was he like?"
" I don't know. With me, he was sweet. But when there were other people around he just, seemed like an entire different person."
Link sighs.
" I'm afraid we'll have to see what's become of him when it comes down to it."
-
" Hello, I'm sorry to bother. Can I ask you a few questions?" You ask as you step into Ollivander's room.
" Of course, come in. " He tells you kindly, straightening his posture in awareness.
" How are you?" You ask him as you sit down on stool opposite him.
" I'm alright. Healing I'd say. How are you?"
" Quite the same. You see I have a Bowtruckle. I just.. don't know how to care for it." You say as you fish the creature out of the pocket of your hoodie.
Ollivander smiles, and you hold out Twig so he can hold it if he wants to. To your surprise, Twig actually moves onto his hand as soon as it's offered.
" Peculiar creatures, Bowtruckles. Much like the wood of their hometree, they rarely bond with more than one person. Did young Otis give you this?" He asks.
Your eyes widen, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.
" Don't worry. I don't judge you. I remember back when I was in school and in love. it seems so long ago." He says with a smile.
" I saw the way the Otis looked at you. I believe he might be mad, but there's a big chance he's also mad for you."
He doesn't look at you as he speaks, instead looking at the bowtruckle.
" They eat bugs. I'd recommend letting it go, but I have no idea where a tree with wood worthy of a wand is." He finally tells you, holding his hand out to yours, Twig jumping back onto your hand without second thought.
" Uhm, thank you." You eventually say, not knowing how to react.
How did Ollivander know?
-
The Burrow, A few weeks later
" Harry got into Hogwarts. " Kingsley says.
" This is it. " Tonks says as she takes her lover's hand.
" The last battle. " Lupin sighs.
" We better go. " Fred says, and one by one everyone starts disapparating.
" Link, disapparate me with you, I can't do it by myself yet. "
" No, stay here-"
" I'm going to fight, Link. I have a right to make them pay after what they did to me. " You say, although you don't fully mean it.
But you can't let your friends fight alone.
" If you panic or can't handle it anymore, you run and hide, deal? "
" But-"
" Deal or no deal? Otherwise you're not coming. " He says.
" Fine, deal. "
-
The preparations for the battle scare you. You're stood with Link, Ben and Lui. The friends you've made this year.
All of you are just watching as the shield is drawn up around you, eventually connecting.
" This is it guys. " Ben says softly.
" Never figured we'd make it this far. " Lui says.
Link scoffs, giving him a look.
" What's that even supposed to mean? "
" You slept through all your classes. Ben was busy drawing random doodles instead of actually taking notes and Y/N was usually busy bullying Helen- speaking of him, what will you do if you come face to face with him? " Lui asks, turning to face you.
You shrug, you hadn't thought of that.
" I don't know, I guess I'll just actively avoid him. " You say, not entirely sure on what to do either.
" I don't think you can, Y/N. From what happened at Malfoy Manor- I think he'll go looking for you first thing. " Link points out.
You hum, thinking for a moment. Truth to be told, you're scared. You don't know what'll be of Helen. You know he's definitely done some horrible stuff. And you could barely recognize him when you were locked up with him.
" Just stay close to any of us. Well all be taking the back flank anyway, right? " Ben suggests.
" Yeah-" Link starts, however, he's cut off as hundreds of spells hit the shield.
-
" You'll go looking for L/N, won't you? " Draco asks Helen, who gave him a blank look, before throwing another spell on the shield.
" Why do you need to know? "
" I've got to go get something. From Potter. I could use some back up. "
" Ask your aunt, she seems to quite enjoy herself. " He says, throwing a short glance at Lestrange, who was indeed, having 'fun'.
The dark lord however, was not, it seemed to be taking too long, and so he finally drew his wand.
And so, the field collapsed.
" Look, I doubt Voldemort will win. I just want Y/N. I don't care about him or his fickle obsession with power and eternal life. " Helen spat, before apparating straight into the Great Hall, on his way to you.
-
You're running. Chaos is surrounding you from everywhere. As expected, You've lost Link. Instead you thankfully did find Jeff, Lui's brother. You have no idea who's side he's on if you're honest, but he seems to have your back. So you'll have his for now.
Unbeknownst to you, Helen is already out looking for you. From a distance, he looks untouchable. Like always, he remains unbothered and untouchable, making his way through the crowd without much trouble.
He doesn't look at who he fires a spell, he doesn't care who's friend he just killed, he has his mind set on only one thing. You.
He's done waiting.
He'll do whatever it takes to have you now.
Thankfully, it doesn't take him long to find you. He's less pleased to see you're not alone, instead back to back with Jeff.
He doesn't need to call you before your eyes connect.
You freeze. Jeff turns around to yell at you when he feels you freeze up, but when he turns to see Helen a short distance away, he too freezes.
No one says anything, everything around you happens in slowmotion.
Untill the building starts to rumble.
Jeff is the first to react, running off without second thought. Helen is next, pulling you into him before he leads the two of you away.
He covers you as the roof of the hallway you're stood in breaks, and when he trips over a fallen piece of brick, he makes sure you don't hit the ground.
He holds you close to his body, reveling in the feeling of having you close to him.
After a moment, you finally seem to come to your senses when you get up again. And after a moment of pondering about it, you hold out a hand to Helen.
He takes it without hesitation.
" Y/N I-"
He's interrupted with Voldemort's message. He's withdrawing his forces, calling out to Harry personally this time. By the time he's done, you swallow.
" Seems you have to go." You swallow.
Your grip on his hand loosens, , but his tightens.
" I'm not going anywhere, N/N." He says
You don't know how to reply. Your mind is overrun with opinions and thoughts of him.
Before, you seemed so sure he had gone bad, that he was a terrible person. But now? Everytime you look into his eyes, you feel yourself melt.
Will it be so bad to be a little more selfish and choose for yourself this once? Will it be that bad if you choose for him?
Before you can make a choice, Lui comes running in your direction.
He doesn't seem to care when he spots Helen, and that immediately makes you concerned.
" Y-Y/N, It's Link."
Moments later, you're stood in the make shift infirmary which used to be the Great Hall. There's tears streaming down your face, and you're holding Ben close as the both of you sob together.
Link is laid on a makeshift bed, his eyes closed. He doesn't look peaceful, he looks like he's in pain, something that makes you sob louder.
Helen's watching the scene with sad eyes. Although things between him and his old friends had been tense the past year, he still holds dear memories with Link.
About twenty minutes later, you and Helen are sat on a curb outside. The weather seems to have cleared up the slightest bit and you're tucked into his side, your eyes closed in exhaustion, though you're very much awake.
" Let's run away."
You open your eyes at his words, a few tears escaping as you're stuck in grief.
" W-what? But what about Ben, and Lui, and-"
He wipes your tears as he cuts you off.
" I've told you I would help you escape. I didn't back than. Now is our moment, let's leave the war, N/N. Let's create our own paradise."
You want to say yes. You really, really want to.
But what about your friends?
He kisses the top of your head, before letting go of you and getting up.
" This isn't our fight. It never was. Let's go."
You look at him, studying him for a few minutes.
Will you take it?
#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#yandere creepypasta#creepypasta fanfiction#creepypasta angst#bloody painter#bloody painter x reader#creepypasta one shot#helen otis#helen otis x reader#dark link#Homicidal Liu#x reader#yandere x reader
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Guess I gotta post this again because I fucked up the first time.
So, yeah. I actually wrote something. It's been a year. My writing is rusty. I hope someone enjoys it.
#otis b driftwood#otis driftwood#3 from hell#the devil's rejects#house of 1000 corpses#angst#baby firefly#violence#mature themes#blood#murder#smut#captain spaulding
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Ablaze
Synopsis: After a fire reduced her house to ashes, Stella Gibson has nowhere to live. She's almost eight months pregnant alone and she has to start everything over again. But she can count on the support of her sister and her son to help her through those hard times.
I had this idea for a very long time in my head and I finally wrote it down. I hope you’ll like and I’d be elated to have some feedbacks if you have any!
💕🔥
#jean milburn#stella gibson#sex ed netflix#the fall#gillian anderson#otis milburn#fluff#fanfics#fanfiction#angst#pregnancy
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omg I just realized bandit leader Pico for my wild west AU is the embodiment of, "You either a die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
I also had no idea that quote was from Batman until now, so til.
#fnf#friday night funkin#fnf au#fnf the musical trail#bandit leader pico#the angst I posted yesterday for cowboy Otis is still stuck in my brain#I'm sorry for destroying your hopes and dreams like that Otis :c#I'll make it up to you I swear
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i thought too much again lol
#ok i’m gonna focus on my blorbos now not my age or illnesses ☺️#myart#vent#anyways this was based off the dream i had lol.#angst didn’t last too long literally right after i was at chuck e cheese#i fist fought otis bc i didn’t invite him#weird ass dream lol
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lap girl (2)
summary. daryl needs comfort at the greene farm after he fails to find sophia again. luckily his girl is willing to give him exactly what he needs; her in his lap
warnings. fluff, angst mentions of daryl’s childhood abuse, mentions of death, swearing
divider credits. @cafekitsune
greene farm
It was a new place, and they didn’t belong, and were only welcome due to the miss-aim of Otis. If he had hadn’t ricocheted a bullet into Carl, then their group that had travelled from Atalanta to the CDC and then some, would never have found this little piece of solace. Daryl’s eyes squinted beneath the glaring sun as he sought out the figure that had brazen themself to be absorbed in the daylight, feeling safe since there were barbed fences separating them from the wilderness in which the dead freely roamed. Y/n was enjoying the quiet that surrounded her, sitting upon the blades of grass that handed no threat in her direction.
It was pleasant to see her so peaceful, she wasn’t running for her life, or scavenging for scraps to replenish her hunger, she was instead still, and content in being so. But feeling secure wasn’t enough; it wouldn’t last, it never did. They’d eventually be sent on their way back to the trailing lands that had lead them here in the first place. The road was cruel, and it would only get worse when winter devoured them with the hardships of its crisp air.
And Daryl resented the foreshadowed thought, as they would need more supplies and warm food, and a fire big enough to bring heat to them all. The embers would only attract the undead and threaten them with even more loss, and whilst Daryl wasn’t particularly fond of many people in the group, he had somehow integrated within its ties after Merle’s absence.
Merle had left him before, in the worst possible way - alone with their father William Dixon. He understood that his elder brother had wanted to escape from the abusive entrapment, and thus he had allowed Daryl to be single-handedly foreseen by their parent as a punching bag; and worse. He still had the scars that were far too prominent over his body, they were askew like lines in a map, permanent and hadn’t faded since the sharp indents that had once been bloody had healed.
He resonated in a ying and yang parallel with Carol, the mother of Carol. She was distraught with Sophia’s fleet, already grieving her loss when there was nothing sufficed to state that she was either dead or alive, and Daryl felt responsible to uncover the reality that encased the child, to bring comfort to not only her mourning mother, but the rest of the group. It was an unsure journey that he had already been scathed from, a bullet that only with luck grazed his temple, and an arrow that was plunged from the long fall into his side, but he needed to do this.
Daryl knew what it felt like to be alone when he had been of the same age as Sophia, however he had discovered a loophole through the tormenting years prior to the contagion that infected the human vessel; there was a girl. He had been instantaneously drawn to her, although at first he had wanted to keep his distance, he’d never allowed anyone close. But she made him see the sun shine in every smile that composed itself upon her face and each glimmer that reflected in her eyes.
She made him feel safe. And so here he was, seeking her out as the gauze remained attached to his head, and if anyone saw him he was sure he would look like a fool. The normally obscure and grouchy Daryl appeared giddy as he stepped towards his human lifeline, his footsteps uncoordinated as he felt the ache in his side brew.
At the sound of shuffling fabric behind her, y/n’s head whipped around, she knew better than to just assume that there was no danger that could appear out of nowhere. Even with the serene tranquility that was deranging her viewpoint from the world that had began feasting on itself, there was always the risk that getting too comfortable would end in death. And Daryl smirked at the sight of the blade that shone from the sun in her hand.
“Thought you were a walker you ass!” She exclaimed, her mouth widening in a teeth baring smile. Her blade was placed back in its hiding spot as she felt the need to aid Daryl in seating himself next to her, her palm remaining against his bare arm. “I kicked Andrea’s ass after her shit shot, told her to get Herschel check her eyesight.” Daryl shook his head lightly as to not cause any more disturbance to his injury, promptly nudging her with his shoulder as he allowed himself to laugh at her protective demeanour towards the blonde.
“Yer real funny sunshine.” His rare smile was prominent as he endearingly looked at his girl, wrapping his arm around the back of her relaxed shoulder blades as he brought her closer. But close was still not close enough. “C’mere.” Daryl agilely helped her climb onto his lap, the place he reserved solely for her, his rough yet tender hands remaining on her hips as he brought his face near to y/n’s, rubbing their noses together in a sweet eskimo kiss.
He was exhausted, and he felt like a failure, but she was the only comfort that he needed. Her form was facing his own, and she brushed her featherlight fingertips against his cheekbones, sparing a glare to the dressing. “We’ll find her.” She whispered gently, shutting her eyelids as she melted into him. “But for now you need to rest honey, I’m not having you wear yourself into the ground.” His head rested against her collarbone, inhaling her presence as he tried not to be frustrated with himself.
It wasn’t his fault that Sophia had ran for her life off of the highway, and he wasn’t guilt for being unable to find anything other than her stuffed toy. His hands ran up and down y/n’s back as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, finally taking a break from his daily searching. He just needed his girl planted in his lap, and all his qualms and insecurities became minor.
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fic#twd x reader
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LOVE AFFAIR (R.G.)
summary - you and rick had a forbidden affair that you knew was bad for the both of you, but you loved him and you can't help it.
warning - MDNI 18+ heavy angst, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it buddy!), cumming inside, rick is a bit of an asshole and a jerk but we love him for it, lowercase intended, mentions of shane, mentions of lori and shane cheating on our poor baby, I think that's it. (lmk if i missed anything.)
notes - i love rick, period, previously the other woman but i changed it to love affair.
masterlist
you glanced at rick as he assisted lori and carl out of the car and onto the little camp you and the group has decided to settle in for the night.
it had been months since the farm fell when it was hit by a herd, months since you and the others have been on the road and were consistently on the run.
it has been months since something happened between you and rick, five months to be exact. you didn't know what happened or how it happened.
you only knew that you and rick needed comfort and stress relief since that night when you and rick were on the top floor of a house your group stayed in for a week.
you and rick were guarding the house from the top of the balcony, well rick was, you were just accompanying him because sometimes you know it gets too lonely.
you were talking his ear off and trying to converse with the man you've liked since the first time you met.
he was older, you were fine with that, it wasn't much of a big problem. it wasn't the thing to stop you from your feelings over him.
he has a wife. that was the thing that would stop you, you've tried to stop liking him but you could not, he was a great leader and he was a great father.
carl is rick and lori's son, he was a teenage boy that was a very sweet guy, he was the reason you met rick. otis has accidentally shot the boy and that brought rick to ask your uncle for help.
you looked away from the family as you bit your lip, staring at the fire embers instead as if it would make the aching pain in your chest go away.
fuck, you can see from the corner of your eyes how lori and rick lovingly held their son as they told him stories and cuddled with him.
"is that how you met mom?"
you could hear carl ask innocently as he looked up into his fathers blue eyes, you tilted your head a bit to the side to look at them and now you wish you didn't.
rick was smiling as he made heart eyes to his wife, the woman also had a smiling face as rick slowly nodded and looked back down at his son.
"yeah, bud. that's how i met your mom." rick nodded as he played with the boy's hair. was it really a good memory that it had them laugh amidst the chaos around the world?
you've never made him laugh, were you not really just funny? you also wanted to make rick laugh, you wanted to be the reason why he was laughing.
he rarely ever smiles when he's with you, whenever your bodies are onto each other or after that. he rarely smiled or laughed.
it was truly a rare moment to see him smile with you, and you would give up everything you had just to see him smile again, because of you.
you're crazy and down bad but whatever, you loved him. what can you do? it's not like you can control who your heart likes or loves.
"share it with us." beth smiled at the couple as she laid her head on your uncle hershel's lap, the old man was stroking the girl's blonde hair as he also looked at the couple.
everyone was looking at the family by now, also wanting to hear a love story once again for the first time since shit hit the fan.
you can feel butterflies form inside your stomach when rick's gaze landed on you, you smiled a bit as you looked away again.
he always had this stupid effect on you. you hate and love it at the same time, you hated it because it shows how weak you are for him, you love it because you love him and only he could make you feel this way.
you can hear the silence of the night as everybody waited for the story or rick and lori, how they met and how their love happened.
you didn't wanna hear it, you can't hear it. it would burn you and hurt you but you can't do anything, others would get suspicious.
maggie was a smart woman, she would instantly figure out what was going on and you didn't want anyone to know what's up with you and rick.
you only pressed your lips into a thin line as you mirrored daryl's usual position, you dazed into the fire as you waited for rick to start the story.
"well, there's this college party my brother and i attended." rick started and you didn't dare look at him while he told the group how he met his wife.
"and?" carl asked impatiently and everyone laughed at the little boy, even you let out a little smile as you quickly wiped it.
"i saw your mom with her friends and we fell in love." rick stated simply as he finished the story in two simple sentences.
"that's it?" beth and carl grumbled as they wanted more, treating it like a bed time story as beth finds it hard to sleep on the cold grass.
"well, lori... she liked to make pancakes on sundays..." rick stated in a teasing voice as lori slapped his arm, also smiling at the memory.
"they weren't great." she instantly informed everyone as she waved at the air like she was trying to clear off the fact that rick tried to make her look like a good cook.
you frowned a little, you were a better cook. you don't burn your pancakes and surely you could do them a little better than lori.
you shook your head and thought about the times the older woman has been kind and generous to you. you can't say things about her just because you love her husband.
you were attracted to her husband yet she was the one who stood like your mother when you and the group were still in atlanta.
"rick doesn't bring lunch to work, he buys them." she chuckled as everyone laughed along with her. you let out a small scoff.
how could rick like her if she doesn't even know how to cook? how could she be a wife without learning how to cook in the first place.
but yet again your cooking skills would be no use if the guy you liked already has a wife and loves her despite her bad cooking skills.
you were glad hershel and beth were between you and the family. you can't stand being that close to rick. you would probably just have broken down.
he wasn't okay with her just a month ago, that's why you were both grinding against each other while everyone was asleep in the next building.
he definitely wasn't okay with her two months back, hence why he claimed that he needed you and only you could make him feel better.
three months back was the worse, lori and rick weren't even in speaking terms despite the woman trying to converse with her husband.
they weren't okay four months ago because lori cheated on rick with shane, thinking that her husband's dead, they weren't okay because she hooked up with rick's best friend.
they started drifting apart five months back when the farm was hit by a herd and shane died, rick wasn't even able to look at her in the eyes.
so when did everything go wrong? they weren't on good terms one month ago and now they're just laughing like a family like everything is back to normal?
maybe everything is back to normal. maybe rick has forgotten the fact that lori had cheated on him or maybe he just forgave her.
maybe it's just because his feelings for her came back and they were willing to try again for carl? maybe they were willing to try again as a whole family?
you took a quick glance at lori's stomach and your heart felt like it was being stabbed multiple times at the same time with different knives.
she was six months along, she was pregnant. none of you knew if it was rick's or shane's but the former was willing to stand up as a father for the baby whether it was his or not.
and that made you sick. he dropped you at the sidewalk to start a family again with the first woman he loved. he dumped you because he wants the four of them as a family.
did you actually mean so little to him? were you just really a bed warmer or a body he could use whenever he was feeling horny or stressed?
but you didn't care, you loved him, right? you don't care if he was using you or not. you would do anything for him because you loved him.
loving him comes along with things, and you were willing to pay for it. you can endure the pain and suffering, as long as you can love him.
you would rather it be that no one loves you than no one loves him. he was your everything and he's great, he deserves all the love in the world.
if letting him go means him being happy, you would let him go a million times. you loved seeing a smile on his face, you loved hearing the sound of his laughter.
your smile at maggie held so much meaning when she offered you a beef jerky that was being passed along the group as rick and lori went on sharing stories.
you passed the beef jerky to your uncle hershel and beth and you accidentally made eye contact with rick. only this time neither of you looked away from each other.
you smiled bitterly as if telling him that you understood, telling him that it was fine, that you were fine. but you weren't and the both of you knew that.
"rick..." you moaned his name as you both kept the pace you had, desperate to get some release. your hands were entangled in his curls as he was kissing your neck.
he was thrusting his hips into you so bad that the bed almost broke, you almost felt bad for the bed if you both weren't so starved for each other.
"please..." you begged as you met his hips, you were nearing and he was too. "ric—" you moaned loudly and rick had to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you quiet.
you would scream his name out loud like it was the only word you knew, but you knew you can't. the group was sleeping on the third floor of the building.
it was too quiet except for the occasional grunts and moans of the passing walkers. it meant that your moans would echo and reach those who were sleeping.
"i-i missed you..." you moaned.
you both were on the ground floor but you knew you would never lose a thing by making sure you were quiet. rick could keep his moans at bay while you? you can't.
it was too much of a pleasure for you and you wanted rick to finish inside you, to have him cumming the same time you are. you wanted to feel close to him more than ever.
"i-i'm coming..." your moaning was muffled by his big hand that almost took over the whole part of your face. you closed your eyes as you tightened up around him and came.
rick groaned in relief as he stopped thrusting and muttered praises as he felt your warm walls tighten up more around him.
"fuck... lori—" he came inside you as you stopped yourself from moving, you were frozen as you gripped his shoulders, pushing him away from you.
"what the fuck?" you stood up once he was off you, he also looked shocked when the word slipped out of his lips. the same lips you loved to kiss.
you searched for your clothes as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, you found your undies and jeans as you reached for your bra and shirt along with your sweatshirt.
you didn't even dare to turn around and face his stupidly handsome face, you were too scared to do so. he was stuttering as he tried to come up with an explanation.
"what?!" you finally faced him as you started slipping on your undies, followed by your jeans. "you can't fuck her so you fucked me?!" you screamed, you didn't care if anyone heard you at the moment.
"what? is it because she's pregnant or she fucking only wants your best friend fucking her?" you hissed in pure anger.
"it's not—" he started as he tried to grab your arm, you backed away as you put in your shirt followed by your sweatshirt after putting in your bra.
"i'm not—" you sobbed as you stopped yourself from completing your sentence, "i'm not a fucking whore you can k-keep around to fuck when you feel... feel horny!"
"it's not fair how you just fuck me because you want to... or when you want to fuck your wife but forget you can't so you fuck me..." you sniffled as you crouched down.
"i-i love you that's why i always have sex with you." you confessed to him as you hid your face in the palm of your hands.
"it hurts me how you were laughing with her last week when you weren't fine a week ago..." you shook your head, disappointed at yourself.
"i said no strings attached..." rick looked down at you as he also started clothing himself if anyone ever came down due to your screams.
"i know... but i got attached. maybe too much more than before." your voice cracked as you looked up at him, wiping your tears.
"we're—" he started as he ran his right hand over his face and hair, "we're casual." he finished and you nodded several times.
"i-i know rick. i know." you nodded as you slowly stood up as you looked up at him, slowly walking towards him as you wiped your tears away.
"c-can't you try loving me?" you asked once you were standing face-to-face in front of him, voice cracking as he looked anywhere but you.
"i'm sorry." he looked down at the ground as he put a hand in his hips, shaking his head as you reached for his hands. he was breaking your heart and he knew it just by the sobs and whimpers that escapes you.
"please?" you begged as you lifted his head to look at you, pulling your hand away from his hand as you supported the sides of his cheeks.
"i-i can't." he shook his head and he also had tears in his eyes by now, also waiting to spill out any moment. he was shocked how he could hold back his tears.
you were desperate, sad, and angry. maybe this didn't hurt him too much and he really had no feelings for you that's why he can't even spare a tear for you.
"in another life?" you asked as you gave up, your shoulders slumping as you smiled at the older man, caressing his stubble.
"in another life." he nodded finally breaking as he saw your pained smile and at how you were so accepting and understanding.
"i love you, rick." you whispered out as you searched his eyes for any signs that he wanted you too, not the way of you being beneath him but wanting to be with you.
you waited for a second but all you got was silence and his silent sobs. you nodded and smiled again, wiping his tears as he looked down.
"it's okay... i understand..." you assured him as you brought the taller man into a hug, he buried his face into the crook of your neck as you rubbed his back.
maybe you weren't meant to be in this universe. maybe the universe had other plans for the both of you. maybe in the next life... he could finally learn to love you.
he might not love you in this life or universe, the next life and the next one after that but you knew one thing.
you might be the other woman in this universe, in this life. but maybe in another life you could be the one he chose, the one he loved.
you would always be waiting for him.
#ssvnriseya#irawrites#the walking dead#twd#twd fanfiction#rick twd#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes smut#twd rick#twd rick grimes#rick grimes#rick grimes x female reader
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Casual (k.s.)
Fandom/Characters: Chicago Fire - Kelly Severide x Fem!Reader, Matt Casey
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Agreeing to a friends with benefits deal with Kelly Severide to blow of some steam after shifts seemed like a great idea in the beginning. What happens when one of you starts to catch feelings?
Warnings: 18+ (no actual smut written but don't read if implication of it makes you uncofmy) - slight ooc kelly? hurt/comfort, mention of child death, fires, angst, pet names, fluff, implied smut, cursing, mention of sex, drinking, arguments, kissing, happy ending
a/n: i’ve been a matt girl since the moment i started watching chicago fire but recently i’ve been obsessed with kelly so this fic is a result of said obsession! also this was a bit rushed so ignore that lol but it was kinda inspired by the song casual by chappell roan so if you want, give it a listen while reading :) oh by the way the gif??? it’s gonna be the end of me- my god. anyways, enjoy <3
You were at Molly’s, nursing your third glass of wine for the night, hoping to forget about the terrible shift you just had.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be a quick in and out, but the universe had different plans. Thinking back, you start wondering what had gone wrong.
Truck and Ambo were called to a small fire at a local café. At first, it seemed like a minor incident, just burnt toast that had accidentally caught fire. What you hadn't realized, though, was that one of the stoves had been left on accidentally, causing gas to slowly leak out.
Upon arrival, your Lieutenant, Matt Casey, instructed Otis and you to escort everyone from the sitting area. Fortunately, there were only a few customers that day, making your job easier.
As you began ushering everyone out, a mother approached you and expressed concern that her six-year-old daughter was still inside. You asked Otis to stay with her before assuring her that you would locate her daughter.
Once the building was evacuated and Herrmann was preparing to hose down the kitchen, you radioed in about the missing girl and announced that you were going back inside to find her. Casey advised you to hurry up before the situation escalated making you nod and rush in.
Heading back in, you immediately began searching for the little girl. You called out to her, but there was no response. After checking the bathroom, you noticed her unconscious form lying under the sink. Your heart sank. You quickly checked her pulse and realized how faint it was. You removed your mask and placed it on her, hoping it would help her breathe. Once the mask was on, you swiftly picked her up and hurried towards the exit.
Passing by the kitchen, you didn't notice how the stove was on. You should have. You don't know how you didn't. It was your job to notice these things but you were in such a rush that it slipped your eye. The realization only dawned on you when you heard Herrmann yelling for everyone to exit the area because of leaking gas and by then, the explosion had already occurred.
The impact sent you stumbling backward, causing you to tumble to the ground with the girl in your arms. Casey’s voice crackled through the radio, but the ringing in your ears muffled the words. You couldn't seem to stop coughing and your head was throbbing making your vision start to blur. You felt yourself succumbing to the darkness, but you fought to regain your composure and struggled to stand up.
Once the initial shock had worn off, you quickly got up and made it to the exit, disregarding your injuries, only concerned about passing the girl off to Gabby and Shay. They tried their best, you know they did, but the girl was dead before you even got to them. The explosion had killed her. The explosion you should have seen coming.
That six-year-old girl passed away, and it was all your fault.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the sound of your name. It was Kelly, the Lieutenant of Rescue Squad 3, and one of your closest friends, whom you were currently sleeping with.
A few months ago, after a particularly difficult shift, Severide and you had accidentally ended up spending the night together. Since then, you two agreed to keep it casual— no strings attached, friends with benefits, if you will. Both of you promised to break it off if one of you started to catch feelings and that seemed reasonable to you.
“Rough day?” He asked taking a seat on the barstool beside you.
“Six-year-old kid died in my arms, so I'd say so.” You say looking down at your glass, twirling the liquid around mindlessly.
“Wanna talk about?”
“Nope, but I do want to get out of here. Your place? It’s closer.” You glanced at him, and he caught on to what you meant in an instant; you needed to let out your frustrations.
He nodded as you downed the rest of your wine and you two headed back to his apartment without any further questions.
You woke up the next day with an arm draped over your torso. You didn’t think much of it until you realized whose arm it was.
Shit.
You had never stayed over. You guys had never spent the night together to keep the feelings at bay. This was uncharted territory. So to say this was going to be awkward would be an understatement.
You attempted to quietly pull his arm away without waking him, but as soon as you made contact, you noticed him starting to stir.
“Good morning baby,” he voiced, groggily.
“Morning Kell,” You replied, blushing at the unexpected name.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, referencing the reason you were at the bar in the first place.
“Better.” You replied as you turned to face him. “Thank you.”
He didn't say anything, instead simply pulling you in for a quick kiss, letting you know he was there for you.
After pulling away, you decided it was time to get up. Popping the little bubblle you were in and ending the moment you shared.
“I'm gonna get dressed and head out, I didn't mean to stay over- just got carried away. I know we don't do that so I'll leave, sorry.”
“Y/N wait up-” He says, catching your attention.
“Yeah?” You turn around to look at him.
“I don't mind that you stayed, I know you had a tough day yesterday so it's fine. Make yourself at home sweetheart.”
The nickname caught you off guard once more. It wasn't unusual for him to shower you with praise and call you these names during sex. But afterwards? He'd never spoken to you that way and the sudden change was putting your heart in a whirl.
You sighed trying to regain your composure. “Yep, thanks. I'll uhh… I’ll see you at shift.” You brushed him off, smiling.
Since that day, the dynamic between you two has shifted noticeably. Others at the firehouse have started to take note of it as well. He's become more attentive. Making sure he has a meal saved for you when you're too busy to eat, accompanying you home from Molly's when you've had a few drinks, and checking in on you after difficult calls.
It wasn't just him, though. You’ve been overly caring with him too, more than a friend should be. When he discovered he had a half-sister, you stood by him. You supported him in reaching out to her. And when she was going through a rough patch after her kidnapping? You were the one on the phone talking her down when she made the decision to move to Colorado.
After all your help, his mother even invited you to her house as a token of gratitude. You never intended to become so involved with him and his family, it changed how you saw him.
You heard the rumors, you knew he was a player— a womanizer who didn't care about anything except his pleasure. But witnessing his interactions with his family alongside the kindness he's been treating you with recently? It was coming to be harder and harder to view him as selfish and uncaring.
The line between friends and lovers was becoming increasingly blurry. Yet you were still trying your hardest to avoid the development of feelings because you knew once you crossed that threshold, there was no going back.
You were walking towards the kitchen when you caught Casey and Severide engaging in conversation by the coffee pot.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop but hearing your name leave Matt’s lips made you stop dead in your tracks.
“What's going on between you and her?” He asked.
“Nothing. It’s all casual. She's nothing more than a friend, Case. We're not together.” Kelly replied, a little too firmly.
Ouch.
You knew nothing was going on between the two of you but hearing that coming from him? It hurt more than you'd like to admit.
You imagined sharing an apartment, perhaps a year or so from now and spending the coming years wrapped in each other's arms, building a family. You chuckled to yourself at the fact that you even thought that was a possibility at some point. Realizing now how naive it was to believe he would ever view you as anything more than a fuckbuddy. Oh, how you loved being stupid.
You spent the rest of the shift avoiding him. It wasn't fair to him; after all, he didn't know you had overheard. Your feelings were your problem, and it wasn't right to act as though he were responsible. Yet, facing him felt impossible without making a fool of yourself.
You found yourself at Molly’s again. Downing shot after shot. You knew you were way past your limit but the lack of Kelly Severide-related thoughts in your brain was encouraging you to continue.
It had gotten to the point where you noticed Herrmann giving you shots of water instead but you were too far gone to care.
You were about to request another real shot when you felt a presence next to you. You turned your head to the side and saw the one person you were trying to forget about.
Lieutenant Kelly Severide.
“You've been avoiding me.” He said, less of a question and more of a statement, keeping his eyes on you.
You hated how small he made you feel, like he could read you in just one glance. His intense gaze made you look away before trying to find Herrmann. “I have not. Now excuse me, I was about to order another drink.”
“You don't need another one.” He said, grabbing your shoulders and turning you back around to face him.
“What are you? My boyfriend? We’re just friends Severide, you don't get to make that decision for me.” You wouldn't have usually been that snarky but the alcohol in your system was giving you courage you didn't know you had.
He was taken aback by your response, you were never like this with him. It was worrying him.
He tried to help you stand up, “Y/N c’mon let's get you home.”
You reluctantly agreed. You knew you were going to regret this in the morning but at the moment, you didn't care. He started walking you towards the exit when you pulled yourself away from him and spoke up, “I don't need a babysitter. I can walk by myself.”
“If you actually think I'm letting you walk home, drunk and alone at this time of night, then you're crazy.” He replied casually while walking beside you.
You stopped abruptly and sighed, looking down. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” He questioned, placing his finger under your chin bringing your face up to meet his.
“Why do you act like you care?” You clarified, holding his stare, pretending his touch wasn't erupting fireworks in your stomach.
“I do care! I care more about you than you realize Y/N.” He said a bit too loudly, raising his hands in exaggeration.
“You're not supposed to!” You shouted back.
“Why not? Is it such a crime to care about my friend?” He replied, exasperated and upset.
There it was. The dreaded ‘friend.’ You knew it was coming. So why did it still shock you?
“I- I can't do this Kelly- I'll just call a cab to take me home, you don't need to walk me. Forget anything happened.” You said turning around, ignoring his objections, calling your name.
You spent your days off moping around. Kelly had called you multiple times and left countless messages, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. You knew you were being childish, but it didn't matter. The thought of going back to work and having to face him filled you with dread but that was a problem for later. Right now, you have errands to run.
While you were getting dressed, you absentmindedly opened the drawer meant for Kelly. You couldn't avoid him, he seemed to be everywhere you looked. Your phone, your workplace, and now, your dresser.
You sighed. The fact that you two had separate drawers designated for one another at each other's homes, slipping your mind completely. Is that something friends with benefits did? Did they keep clothes at the other’s place to ‘make it easier for them to get dressed?’
Your thoughts were cut short when you heard a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anyone but opened the door regardless not guessing who you’d see on the other side.
You found yourself face-to-face with none other than the man who had been plaguing your thoughts nonstop. However, after avoiding him for so long, you didn't know what to say or how to act. You felt like you’d never been in such close proximity with him before, it was suffocating. So you simply stood there until he eventually spoke.
“We need to talk.” He stated simply.
“What's there to talk about?” You asked, avoiding his eyes.
“This. Us.” He said, motioning between the two of you.
You finally took a good look at him, you noticed the heavy bags under his eyes and the weary slump of his shoulders. It was clear that he was utterly exhausted, as if he hadn't slept at all in the last few days. And the simple thought of the reason for his exhaustion being you, made you feel terrible.
“Severide-” You couldn’t let this drag on for any longer without hating yourself, so you took a deep breath and continued, “I think we should end this arrangement that we have.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
“We agreed that once one of us starts catching feelings, we'd end it. So let's end it before it gets messy and hurts either of us more than it should.” You tried closing the door once you were done speaking but he quickly squeezed himself in, preventing your attempts at pushing him away.
“What are you doing?” You asked following him into your apartment.
“That's not fair!” He exclaims, “You don't get to ignore me for days and then just end our relationship and shut me out.”
“This was hardly a relationship.” You scoff, “But, what did you want me to do Kelly!?” You matched his volume, watching as he paced in the middle of your living room.
“I don't know, maybe talk to me about how you're feeling!” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm while glaring at you. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under right about now.
“Oh, that's really mature coming from you! Mr. Expert at communication.” You replied with just as much pettiness as you could muster, stepping closer to him to prove a point.
He stood silent for a moment before taking a deep breath and approaching you, “Maybe you're right, maybe we do need to end this thing we have. I just thought we cared about us enough to at least talk it out.”
The two of you now stood face to face, your breaths labored and eyes locked in an unbreakable gaze. Silence enveloped the space between you, the tension so thick that it felt tangible like it could be sliced through with a knife.
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. “I shouldn't have ignored you and I also shouldn't have just sprung that on you.”
Once you noticed he was letting you continue, you went on, “I just realized that I couldn't be as ‘casual’ about our relationship as you are anymore. I tried to hold my tongue and ignore the feelings I have for you, but it was getting harder Kelly. Nothing about our deal has been casual for weeks now and it was starting to affect me.” You finally let out.
He took in your words, shaking his head. “It hasn't been casual for me either Y/N. I love you, and have for a very long time.”
The force of his words hit you like a physical blow. Love? How did he claim to love you when he had not only never hinted at such feelings before but also dismissed Casey when he asked about it? You were confused and it was evident on your face with the way you looked at him, shell-shocked.
“You love me? But you told Casey that there was nothing going on between us and-”
You were quickly cut off by his hands on your face, pulling you in. The intensity of his lips against yours short-circuited your entire being. It took a moment for your brain to register what was happening, but soon you found yourself reciprocating his kiss.
While you and he had shared kisses in the past, this one was different. It wasn't hurried like your usual kisses but instead filled with a deep sense of passion, tender and slow, and brimming with love and adoration for one another.
He placed his hands gently on your waist, drawing you closer, deepening the kiss. You raised your arms, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling the slight tug as you did. It was as if your lips were pulled together by an irresistible force, making it difficult to part.
You wanted time to freeze in that beautiful moment so you could stay in it forever. You wished to remain embraced by him indefinitely. His touch was tender and affectionate, brimming with care. It felt as though both of you had shed all your worries and were completely immersed in the love surrounding you.
You tentatively ended the kiss and gazed into his eyes, which stemmed a love you had never felt from him before. For the first time, they didn't overwhelm you or make you feel small; instead, they enveloped you in a sense of comfort. And in that fleeting beat, his eyes spoke volumes even when his words remained silent.
“I love you too.” You said, sharing his sentiment, causing a grin to emit on both of your faces.
You felt like a teenager who was experiencing love for the first ever time; and you wouldn't want it any other way.
#sky writes#kelly severide#kelly severide x reader#casual#chicago fire#kelly severide x y/n#matt casey#matthew casey#one chicago#chappell roan#one chicago universe#song fic#kelly severide x you#song inspired#the rise and fall of a midwest princess#casual chappell roan#trafoamp#song inspired fic
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Desperately trying to think of what everyone’s favorite music genre is from the arcane universe.
Vi undoubtedly has a playlist titled divorced dad or girl in her 20s filled with classic rock. Puddle of Mudd, Shinedown and Creed blast through the gym as she practices her combos.
Cait gives Boygenius. Moody, mysterious and yet still soft in certain ways. For Vi. Girl In Red, Gigi Perez. She’s listening as she treks through the woods alone, a sodden path under her boots, she looses herself in target practice and the melodies.
Jayce in a button down, wrinkled and left open, boxer shorts and calf-high socks, slipping and sliding in the kitchen as he belts out Consider Me Gone by Reba McEntire. He listens to anything he can dance to, get lost in. Letting go, he sings off key, using the spatula for a fake microphone and only stopping long enough to flip Vik’s pancakes.
Viktor craves music that tells a story. From Hozier to Sleep Token, he feels each set of lyrics. To Viktor, each song he sends or plays aloud in the lab as he and Jayce work, it means something.
Ekko’s a mix of sorts. Something soulful and gritty, found in the depths of deep rooted ancient forest and swamps. Barefoot in mud that coats and clings, that fills the cracks of your soul. Music that feels like home and heritage. Yeah, Ekko’s listening to Hurricane by The Band Of Heathens. Some Otis Redding, Marcus King too.
Jinx is giving punk teen angst forever. In her feels or just jamming out while she tinkers, it’s definitely Hot Mulligan, Neck Deep or All Time Low blasting through her spray painted speakers.
#arcane#timebomb#jayvik#jayce x viktor#violet arcane#caitvi#ekko arcane#ekko#mini fic#oc fic#fanfic#jayce talis#viktor arcane
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Hi! This is the first time I make request and sorry if my english isn't good but I've been reading a lot of smut of daryl lately and now i am craving some angst. Could you write one where the reader is younger than daryl (maybe she's around 23) and she has a huge crush on him but daryl doesn't want too acknowledge her feelings because she's younger than him. But then daryl realised that he's crazy about her too when reader is trying to move on from him.
Thank you! Mwah!
I turned this into smut, and kinda strayed away from what you asked I'm so sorry, also i just found this in my drafts from like a year ago, i am SO sorry pookie
-> not proofread, straight stream of consciousness vibes
farm!daryl, kinda smut, mdni, ignore the lack of capitalization, I did this on my phone
from the second he saw you smoking way up in that tree, he knew he'd be better off hightailing it back to atlanta.
the eldest greene sister. and boy did herschel have a lot to say. When daryl and his group arrived at herschel's farm, daryl's initial thought was that it must've been a weed farm, mainly because he could smell the damn plant from at least a mile away.
okay, not really. herschel picked up on the scent as he greeted the group outside and followed daryl's gaze to you, propped up in a tree, puffing away at your diy bible-rolled joint as you doodled in a notebook
"would you stop with the damn plants for a second? We have visitors." herschel called out to you. you hopped on out of the tree and made your way over to the group, snuffing out the joint and stuffing it in your pocket for later.
what? it's not like there's anywhere you could buy some more.
"thought we weren't taking anybody in?" you said to your dad, sizing up the group before your eyes landed in daryl.
herschel had responded, but either the weed kicked in or the world must've suddenly gone mute, because the only thing you could hear was your heart beating.
he had made eye contact with you, but quickly adverted his eyes and fixated on the grass, which became the most intriguing thing in the world to him.
herschel continued talking and negotiating with the group's leader as you stood there, your eyes flickering between daryl and the rest of the group.
herschel had allowed them to stay until a kid you discovered to be carl–who got shot by otis) heals up. much to your dismay, you could see the brooding archer setting up camp right underneath your designated smoke spot. not that you minded having a man that absolutely devour-able underneath you as you indulged, but it was still your tree. you had headed inside to make some dinner for carl when you spotted him through the kitchen window.
you quickly stomped your way out of the main house to your tree- his tent. he had just snuffed out his fire and zipped up his tent for the night.
"you're camping out under my tree." you said matter-of-factly, standing outside of his tent and perfectly aware that he can hear you through the thin fabric.
"it ain't yer tree, sunshine." he grumbled from inside the tent.
"it's not your land."
"ya can't make a tree yer property... ain't how that works."
"oh but that is how it works.."
you could hear a mumbled response, but you were already rounding the tent and making your way up the tree before you could make sense of it.
it wasn't long before the smell permeated his tent. he didn't mind the smell of weed, if anything, it enticed him to join you. but god was he exhausted.
perhaps, he wasn't exhausted enough. he relented and opened his tent and turned around, trying to find you through the darkness. like you had night vision, you could see him looking up, almost directly at you.
"plan on joining me? or you just gonna stare at me little while longer?" You called down to him.
"ya gon' share?" he said loud enough for you to hear him, but not enough to wake the others.
"come and find out.." you teased. not only did weed make you generous, but it turned you on too. flirting with the clearly older man was not on your playbook, but then again, neither was the end of the world.
christ almighty this was a new low. definitely sativa.
he made his way up the tree with ease, the smell of weed growing stronger as he made his way closer to you. he sat down across from you. the thick branches of the willow tree would support you both. The fiery glow from the bud briefly illuminated your face as you inhaled
to daryl, you were much prettier than you were earlier. he could see the way your rosy lips had briefly trapped the filtered end of the joint before inhaling, and the warmth in your cheeks under the moonlight. yeah, he was definitely feeling the second-hand high.
wordlessly, you held out the joint to the older man, smiling softly as he took it from your grasp and placed his lips around it.
he took his fair share of hits as you shamelessly admired him. his looks weren't lost on you, and yours most defintely were not lost on him. maybe it was the weed, or the way you tits sat in you shirt, or the way your hair seemed to perfectly frame your face, or even the look in your eye, but he slowly felt himself shuffling over to you, suddenly longing to feel your skin on his.
as he sat closer, the smell of weed seemed to fade away as your aroma his him like a brick. the vanilla in your remaining body wash had been swept up by the wind, imbuing his senses, sending a wave of sparks straight to his cock.
the tension was palpable. he looked into your longing eyes. he knew what you wanted. he wanted it too.
"we can't- yer old man he'd-" he mumbled, ignoring the way your eyes burned his skin, and most defitnely trying to ignore the way his pants strained around him.
"we can," you cut him off in the same quiet fashion, your hand finding his thigh as if it had a mind of its own.
the second you touched him, he could feel himself bending to your will, his mind slowly twisting into mush. he saw the redness in your eyes and knew you were just as gone as he was.
within seconds you planted your lips onto his, molding together instantly. his rough hands found their way to your hips as he maneuvered you on top of him.
you could feel his cock straining in his pants as you instinctively pressed yourself into him. he could feel the heat from your cunt radiating onto him as you mewled from the friction. your teeth caught your lip as you remembered that you couldn't be too loud. he looked up at you, his heart pounding and reverberating through his bones. you began to grind on him as he held you firmly against him, his head tipping back and against the larger trunk of the tree as he kneaded the fat of your hips.
he pressed you harder against him, moving your hips to grind against him as he instinctively bucked his hips into you. his clothed cock rubbed repeated and merciless strokes against your clit. his hands snaked their way up your back and neck, eventually grabbing a fist full of hair from the nape of your neck. he pulled backward, latching his lips to your neck, feeling your heart beat erratically underneath your skin.
"f- fuck..." you mewled into his ear. daryl wanted that sound on repeat 24/7. you felt yourself begin to drip past your panties and soaking your cotton shorts. your hands rested on his hard chest, feeling his body shutter with every stroke of your hips.
daryl could embarrassingly feel his climax approaching as he pressed himself into your heat. the coil that tightened inside brought him some semblance of clarity from his high. He stilled your hips with his hands and pulled you off him.
"what the fu-"
"I ain't gonna cum inside m'pants like some damn teenager... 'f 's gon' be anywhere, its gon' be inside ya." he said quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, still holding you close.
masterlist
#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#daryl twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon#the walking dead smut#twd fanfiction#twd smut#twd#smut#imagine#ang3lc
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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.
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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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Chapter 2
Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/1441076516-this-blood-is-forever-chapter-2
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55303192/chapters/140688769
#otis b driftwood#otis driftwood#the devil's rejects#angst#baby firefly#violence#house of 1000 corpses#captain spaulding#3 from hell#murder#blood#smut#otis b driftwood x ofc#otis driftwood fan fiction
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