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creepypasta-archive · 7 months

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Jeff the Killer: Recall

by Mikeyboi1225

Some story i found. Sorry i'm not adding my detailed descriptions as usual i've been running on fumes lately CW// Murder i guess. too long to read rn Click here for the unedited original story

Summary

After a nearly fatal car accident in the dark of night, a mysterious boy wakes up in a hospital with no memory of who he was before. His amnesia isn't the strangest about him: his face is scarred beyond recognition, wounds that didn't come from the accident. Taken in by the driver who hit him, the amnesiac settles into a daily routine. But when his memories begin to slowly return, a darkness begins to stir.

This story was inspired by two songs, one which tells the story of a monster who didn't know how to be anything else, and another where the singer looks upon his past misdeeds and seeks redemption for them. If you aren't fond of redemption stories, I recommend looking for an X Reader. There are plenty to be found. My goal in writing this tale is to take the Creepypasta characters I grew up with and tell a new story all my own. If that's the kind of thing you go for, then you've come to the right place.

If you enjoy the story, be sure to give it a kudo, and let me know what you think in the comments!

Chapter 1: The Accident

Walter Jefferson was tired.

He'd had a long, hard day at work. It was December 11th, and the Oakwood County Post Office was a busy place in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He'd gotten off at 10:30, and he was almost home. As he made the turnoff onto the road that led to his house, his cellphone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw that his wife Margaret was calling.

"Oh, I'm in for it now," he chuckled to himself. Walter answered the call, putting Margaret on speaker.

"Hi, Maggie," he answered cheerfully.

"Hey, Walter," replied Margaret. Unlike his, her voice was wide awake. "It's almost eleven at night. You haven't been abducted by aliens, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, I have, honey," he replied. "They've got big teeth and antennas, and they're pulling out all kinds of terrible devices. I think they're gonna probe me."

"Right," answered Margaret with a chuckle. "Can you tell them that if my husband isn't home in fifteen minutes, I'll have to blast their flying saucer out of the sky?"

Walter laughed with amusement.

"I'll pass on the message, honey. See you in a bit. I love you."

"I love you too, Walter," Margaret replied with a dramatic smooching noise. "Drive safely."

"I will," answered Walter, and hung up the phone.

"Always so worried about- OH MY GOD!"

Walter slammed his foot down on the breaks with all his weight. Someone was crossing the road. The pedestrian had appeared out of nowhere. Walter swerved to avoid him, but it was too late. The vehicle slammed into the figure like a rhinoceros, sending the body rag-dolling over the top of the car. Walter could hear it thumping as it rolled over the roof.

"Dear Lord," choked Walter as he tore off his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car.

He ran to the lifeless body in the road and rolled it face-up. It was a young man, around sixteen years old. He had on a white hoodie and black dress pants. The clothes were bloodied and battered, and blood oozed from the boy's skull.

Walter's stomach churned. He knelt and checked for a pulse. The boy was still alive! Walter ran to his car and grabbed his phone, frantically dialing 911. The voice on the other end responded quickly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My name is Walter Jefferson, and I am at the intersection of Shaw and West! I just hit a guy with my car. He's alive, but he needs an ambulance!"

"Sir, please remain calm and stay on the line. Help is on the way."

"Thank you," answered Walter gratefully.

The young man's eyes fluttered open. He focused on Walter.

"Wha- what happened?" he asked weakly, his voice scarcely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"Oh, God," croaked Walter. "He's awake."

Walter dropped to his knees, taking the boy by the hand.

"I am so sorry," whispered Walter. "You're going to be alright, I promise. Help is on the way."

The young man's eyes lost focus, and he drifted out of consciousness.

Chapter 2: The Ambulance

"Look at me, buddy," said the paramedic as he gave the boy a shot of morphine. "Keep looking at my eyes, okay?"

The young man's eyes kept fluttering. He opened them and focused on the paramedic.

"Who- who are you?" he pleaded, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"My name is Mark. I'm a paramedic, and we're taking you to a hospital. I gave you some morphine to help with the pain. How are you feeling, buddy?"

The patient' s eyes closed.

"Woah, buddy," called Mark, gently slapping the patient's cheek. "Don't do that to me, alright? Just keep looking at my eyes.

"O-okay," slurred the patient.

"Good," replied Mark, smiling. "What's your name?"

The kid looked puzzled.

"I don't- I don't remember," he answered. His brow was furrowed deeply. Suddenly, his eyes grew wider than they already were.

"I can't remember my name! I can't remember anything! Why can't I remember anything?"

The patient tried to sit up, and then cried out in pain. Mark lowered him back onto the stretcher.

"You don't want to do that, buddy," Mark cautioned. "You've got some broken ribs. Just be still and stay calm. Jeffrey, hand me those sedatives. We need to calm him down."

The boy gasped twice, once from pain and once from realization.

"What is it, buddy?" asked Mark as he prepared the sedative shot. "What's the matter?"

"Jeffrey. . . my name. . . I remember. My name is Jeff."

He tried to sit up again, but Mark stopped him.

"Nice to meet you, Jeff. Can you lie still for me, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded his head obediently as Mark injected him in the shoulder with anesthesia.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jeff," said Mark with a soothing tone. "You just go to sleep."

"Uhhnn. . ." Jeff tried to speak, but before he could form the words, he had drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Room 114

"So, he just ran into the street?" the officer asked as he wrote Walter's account of the event down in a notepad.

"Yes," answered Walter, rubbing his hands together nervously. He sat in the waiting room of the Oakwood County Medical Center, telling his story to a policeman. "I didn't even see him until he was twenty feet away. I tried to brake, but it. . ."

Walter shook his head. The situation seemed surreal. Had he actually just struck a teenage boy with his car? It didn't seem possible.

The officer put a consoling hand on Walter' shoulder.

"You did a good job calling 911. Too many folks would have just panicked."

"Walter!"

Walter looked up to see Margaret running to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood up from his seat and embraced her.

"Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What happened? I was so scared, Walter!"

The officer stood, pocketing his notepad.

"I have everything I need for now, Mr. Jefferson. The department will contact you if we need anything else."

The officer turned to go, giving the couple a moment alone. Margaret buried her face in Walter's shoulder, wetting it with her tears. Walter struggled to find the words. He took a deep breath.

"Right after I hung up," he began, letting the momentum of his thoughts carry him along, "a kid - a teenager, I think - ran out in front of me."

"Oh, God," whispered Margaret.

Walter pressed his forehead against her shoulder, holding himself together despite the attempts of every one of his atoms to break down.

"I hit him, Maggie," he whispered into her ear. "I. . . I hit that kid. I don't even know if he's alive or not."

Margaret tightened her grasp on Walter, running a hand up and down his back to comfort him.

"It was an accident, Walter. He'll be okay. I'm certain of it."

Walter sobbed once into her shoulder, and clenched his teeth to keep himself composed.

"There was so much blood on him, Maggie. I-I've never seen so much. His clothes were soaked."

"Shhhhh," whispered Maggie, cradling the back of Walter' s head in her arms.

Just then, a nurse walked over to the waiting area.

"Walter Jefferson?" she asked, reading off her clipboard.

Walter pulled reluctantly away from Maggie, drying his eyes with his shirt collar.

"Yes, that's me," he replied.

"The boy is out of surgery. The doctor would like to see you. Please, follow me."

The nurse turned and walked into the hallway. Walter started after her, but stopped as he felt Maggie's hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Walter," she said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Maggie," he gratefully replied with one last look at his wife before following the nurse.

The nurse led Walter down a maze of hallways and doors. At length, she stopped in front of a door, Room 114. The metal "4" appeared to be falling off. Walter prayed that wasn't a bad omen.

"Wait here," ordered the nurse.

She walked off in the direction they had come, leaving Walter standing alone before the door of Room 114. He fidgeted nervously as he waited. Walter glanced into the room to see what he could see. He could just barely see the young man - his victim - lying in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in gauze, but that wasn't what drew Walter' s attention.

Walter started into the room. He tried to stop himself, but he was in a trance. Step by step by step, he drew closer and closer to the sleeping patient. Soon, he was standing at the head of the hospital bed, looking down at the comatose teenager. The boy slept peacefully. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Walter stared down at the boy's face in horror.

My God, thought Walter. Did I do this to him?

The boy's face was horrifying. His eye sockets were scarred with gray patches, and his eyelids were mangled so that they appeared to be open. His cheeks were marred with deep gashes that curled upwards from his lips, twisting his face into a hideous, demonic grin.

At that moment, the boy's eyes focused on him.

"Walter Jefferson!"

Chapter 4: Good News, Bad News

"Walter Jefferson?" asked the doctor a second time.

Walter cradled hid chest in his hands. The boy's eyes darted off in another direction, then another. He was asleep. He hadn't looked at Walter at all.

"Yes," Walter replied, breathing heavily. "I'm Walter Jefferson."

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, looking at Walter with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Dr. Walton. I examined the patient as soon as they brought him in. There are a few things that you need to know."

Walter cleared his throat and nodded his head.

"Tell me."

"Fortunately," the doctor began, "there were no vital organs damaged in the accident. Now, he's got four broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, and a concussion, but he'll live."

Walter took a deep breath of hope and glanced over his shoulder at the boy.

"That's good. That's great!"

The doctor nodded.

"It is. Less so is my second piece of news."

"Go on," prodded Walter.

"The concussion seems to have caused some damage. According to the paramedics who brought him in and what little I could get him to say, the patient is amnesiac."

The color drained from Walter's face until he was paler than the boy.

"You mean he. . . oh God. . ."

The doctor nodded again.

"Unfortunately, he seems to have forgotten nearly everything about himself. He has no idea who he is or where he's from. We don't even know if he has any family we need to call," explained Dr. Walton. "The only thing we could get out of him was his name."

"What is it?"

"Jeff."

"Just Jeff?"

"He only remembers his first name."

Walter collapsed into a chair next to the hospital bed and put his head in his hands.

"So I took his face and his memories," Walter sobbed.

Dr. Walton cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'took his face'?"

"The wounds on his face," said Walter. "You can' t exactly miss them."

Dr. Walton cleared his throat.

"Those wounds aren't fresh. They're scars, and they certainly didn't come from the accident."

Walter looked up.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Those scars are old. He's had them for at least a few years," replied Dr. Walton.

Walter looked back at the face of the sleeping patient.

"Then where did they come from?"

Dr. Walton shrugged dramatically.

"That, along with everything else about him, is something we'd all like to know."

Chapter 5: Waking Up

His mind was blank, totally bereft of the thoughts and details that made up a person. He found himself swimming through a sea of emptiness. The dark, icy waves grasped and tossed, and he fought to keep his head above water.

Up ahead, he saw something floating, like an inner tube. He swam towards it, praying that he wouldn't sink. Three feet from the tube he lunged, but missed. The tube was thrown a little further away by the churning waves. He lunged again. This time, he caught the edge of it.

He clung to the tube for dear life, pressing his face into the side of it. As he did, he noticed a word painted on the side. It was written in rough, scratchy letters that dripped red down the side: Jeff.

His name. The only memory he had left, and the only thing keeping him above the churning sea of despair. He looked down through the hole in the tube's center. He froze.

A hideous face grinned back at him from the water. Its features were twisted into a lopsided, nightmarish smile that went beyond frightening. Its eyes were wider than seemed possible, and edged with dark circles that added a manic hunger to them.

The fiendish face spoke.

"You can't escape me," it said. "I'll find you again. Now, go to sleep- er, I mean, wake up."

Jeff blinked.

"WAKE UP!"

Jeff bolted upright in his hospital bed, breathing heavily and covered in cold sweat. The window was open, letting the sunlight in. His head felt like a blacksmith had been using it for an anvil. He tried to look down at himself, but his head wouldn't move. His neck was in a brace, and his collarbone burned when he tried to move his head.

Must be broken, thought Jeff.

He moved his hand along his chest. There were thick bandages.

Ribs broken as well.

Just then, a nurse came into the room, rolling an IV drip along with her. When she saw Jeff was awake, she smiled warmly and waved.

"Good morning, Jeff," she said with pleasant sweetness. "I'm Nurse Elayna, and I'll be taking care of you."

Jeff found himself looking at Elayna for a long time. She had a headful of curly red hair and deep blue eyes. She was very pretty. Finally, he forced himself to speak.

"Hi, Elayna," he said. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Oakwood County Medical Center. Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

Jeff sighed.

"I don't remember much. My name. I remember bits and pieces of the accident. The headlights. The pain. And the angel."

Nurse Elayna looked puzzled.

"Angel?"

"He was there," assured Jeff. "He was standing behind the driver who hit me when he called 911. He was so tall. He said. . . he said. . ."

Elayna stood by the IV drip expectantly.

"What did the angel say?" she asked encouragingly.

Jeff shrugged, which led to a sigh of pain.

"I don't remember."

Nurse Elayna nodded compassionately.

"That's understandable. You have a concussion. It also seems that, as a result, you have amnesia. You've lost your memory. Well, most if it."

Nurse Elayna exchanged his IV bag and then turned to face him.

"Can I get you anything, Jeff?"

Jeff looked back at Elayna.

"There is one thing," said Jeff quietly. "Could you bring me a mirror?"

Nurse Elayna pursed her lips and looked away.

"The doctor will be in soon," she answered. "He will be able to take care of that for you."

Before Jeff could respond, Nurse Elayna hurried out of the room.

Chapter 6: Breakfast at the Jeffersons'

Margaret was having trouble getting Walter to go back to bed. It was Saturday, the day after the accident, and his Christmas vacation had begun. And he was absolutely miserable.

They had gotten home from the hospital at 3:30 AM, and they had gone straight to bed. Or, at least, Margaret had. Walter had turned on the television and plopped down on the couch. He stared blankly into space, ignoring the TV. At five in the morning, he had finally come to bed. He had slept until seven. He simply couldn't get the boy - Jeff - off his mind.

"He doesn't remember anything," Walter had told her. "He knows nothing about himself. That's on me."

"No, it isn't," Margaret had told him. "You can't blame yourself for an accident. Anyone could have hit that boy. It just happened to be you."

Now, he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. Margaret walked over and sat down next to him.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

Walter shook his head.

"How about some coffee?"

Same response.

"Visiting hours start at eleven," said Walter. "I'd like visit him sometime this week."

He fixed her with a pleading look.

"Will you come with me? I want to talk to him. To Jeff."

"Of course I will," she said, taking his hands in her own. "I am just as worried about that boy as you are. I just want you to stop beating yourself up. Skipping breakfast and depriving yourself of sleep aren't going to help him. You know that, right?"

Walter turned his head to look into her eyes. His own, she saw, were filled with tears. He took a deep breath.

"I know, Maggie," he said. "I'm. . . scared, is all."

"I know you are," she told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I am too. But it's going to work itself out. I know it is."

Walter wiped his eyes and kissed her back.

"What would I do without you?"

"Fall on your face," she answered. "Now sit tight. I'll make you some scrambled eggs and coffee. You're going to eat, understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Walter as Margaret stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Chapter 7: Reflections

Dr. Walton stood outside Room 114, looking in at his patient. The boy called Jeff was awake, staring straight up the ceiling. Not that he much choice, considering the condition of his eyelids.

Poor kid, mused Dr. Walton. Who are you? And what the hell happened to your face?

Dr. Walton pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered.

"Hello, Jeff. I'm here with your eye drops," announced the doctor. He approached Jeff's head and looked down at him with a wide, friendly grin. "How are you feeling?"

Jeff looked up at him and grinned weakly. It was strange, since the gashes in his cheeks made Jeff appear to be grinning already.

"How would you feel if you got pancaked by a station wagon, Doc? Because that's about how I feel."

Dr. Walton laughed encouragingly.

"Given the circumstances, that makes sense." Dr. Walton held up the bottle of eye drops. "How about we take care of those dry eyes, big guy?"

Jeff widened his eyes for Dr. Walton as the latter squeezed a drop of moisturizing fluid onto each eyeball. Jeff's eyelids squeezed together as best they could.

"Isn't it Elayna's job to give me the eye drops?"

"Well, yes," said the doctor. "But I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check up on you myself."

Dr. Walton pulled a chair over to the head of the bed and took a seat.

"Jeff, what can you recall from the other night? Do you remember anything from before the accident?"

Jeff sighed.

"No. Nothing. I was. . . I was crossing the road. I remember that. I don't remember why, though. Then, I was on the ground. The driver was calling for help. And, I saw the angel."

Dr. Walton nodded his head.

"Elayna told me about that. This angel, what did he look like?"

"It's pretty fuzzy," admitted Jeff. "He was very tall, at least seven feet. He had these huge billowing wings, and glowing eyes that pierced the darkness."

Jeff paused and frowned at the doctor.

"It was a hallucination, wasn't it?"

"That's possible," answered the doctor. "You did hit your head pretty hard. But I've never been one to rule out the metaphysical."

Dr. Walton gestured to Jeff's bandages.

"After all, you survived a head-on collision at forty miles-per-hour. If that isn't divine intervention, I'll turn in my doctorate."

"Maybe," said Jeff absently. His eyes stung, and he moved his eyes around beneath what remained of his eyelids to wet them. "Hey, Doc?"

"Yes, Jeff?"

"There's something I need you to do for me," Jeff told him, "and I won't take no for an answer.

Dr. Walton cocked his head to the side.

"What would that be?"

"I want you to tell me what's wrong with my face."

Dr. Walton frowned.

"What makes you think something's wrong with your face?"

"Drop the act," said Jeff. "I know something isn't right. Elayna wouldn't give me a mirror earlier. Plus, I've been feeling it all morning. It feels wrong. It feels like leather, not skin."

Jeff pointed to his eyes.

"And judging by the lack of any scabbing, I'm assuming that this isn't road rash across my eyes."

Dr. Dalton folded his hands.

"Jeff," he replied frankly, "Legally, I can't tell you no. However, I can warn you. Your current state is fragile. If you get too worked up, you might hurt yourself."

Jeff frowned. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, Jeff, that's not. . ." Dr. Walton's voice trailed off. He bit his lip.

"Look, Doc," began Jeff. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I'm scared. I woke up in a strange place. I don't even know who I am. And I certainly don't remember what I look like."

Jeff sniffed. A tear ran down his cheek. He dabbed at it. His fingers ran down along the ridge of the scar there, until they reached his lips. Jeff returned his gaze to the eyes of Dr. Walton.

"I want to know what this ridge I feel beneath my finger is. I want to see why my eyes don't close. I want something. . . a face to put with my own name. Can you understand that?"

Dr. Walton was speechless. Before him on the hospital bed lay his patient, a boy with nothing. He was so vulnerable, and there was only one thing in the world he wanted. But, Dr. Walton was afraid to give it to him.

Who was he to stand in Jeff's way, though? It was his duty to abide by his patients' wishes. With a reluctant sigh, he relinquished his humanity.

"Alright, Jeff," said Dr. Walton. "If that is what you want."

Dr. Walton stepped into the bathroom for a moment. When he returned, he held a plastic hand-mirror. Jeff watched him approach. It was a slow, dutiful march, like an executioner walking to the scaffold. Jeff didn't know whether to feel nervous or excited. He determined that his beating heart was a result of both.

"Here you go," whispered the doctor as he handed Jeff the mirror.

Jeff accepted the mirror from Dr. Walton and held it up before his face.

Jeff gasped at what he saw looking back at him. He had no eyebrows. His eyelids were a tattered, blackened mess that made his eyes appear wide and hungry. The rest of the flesh was white as milk, and as rough as crocodile leather. His cheeks were marred by three-inch gashes that curled up across his face like the tendrils of an evil kraken hiding beneath the surface. The wretched, ruined face seemed to grin malevolently at him from the glass.

"Oh, God," whispered Jeff. ". . . oh God."

His fingertips traveled the length of a scar, then up the bridge of his nose to his forehead. His fingers splayed across his features, and he lowered the mirror.

"Dear God. . ."

Dr. Walton rested his hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"I'll give you a moment alone."

Jeff barely heard his words. They sounded distant, like he had spoken underwater. This had been what Jeff was afraid he would see. The face he had seen in the mirror was the same face that had stared up at through the inner tube, the one from the sea of darkness. The demonic face from his dream had been his own.

Chapter 8: The Waiting Room

"Walter Jefferson, here to visit Jeff. Room 114."

Walter stood with his hands at his sides. The nurse looked up Jeff in the computer.

"Give me just one moment please," said the nurse as she stood and went into the back.

Walter waited awkwardly, drumming his fingers against the countertop. Soon, the nurse was back.

"He's being cleaned up right now," she told him, "but he should be ready in a few minutes. Just have a seat, and someone will come and take you in."

"Thank you," said Walter.

Walter turned away and walked back to the waiting area. He plopped down in a chair next to Margaret and picked up a magazine, which he perused absently.

What will he be like? Will he hate me? Will he blame me for what happened to him?

Walter didn't know what to expect. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

Just then, a horrible thought occurred to him.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, Walter?" asked Margaret.

"What's going to happen to Jeff?"

Margaret looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What if he has a family? He doesn't remember anything. He won't be able to contact anyone. He'll be all alone."

"Don't worry," urged Margaret, putting a hand on his shoulder. "His family is probably looking for him right now. They'll come for him."

Walter didn't look satisfied.

"But what if he has no family? What if he was already alone? He's at least sixteen or seventeen. What if they just ship him to a foster home until he's eighteen?"

"Walter," whispered Margaret soothingly, "everything is going to be okay."

Walter took a breath.

"I hope you're right."

Just then, a nurse walked over and stood in front of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson?" she asked.

"That's us," said Walter, standing to his feet.

"Jeff is ready to see you."

Chapter 9: A Chance Meeting

Mark headed into the break room for lunch. He took his sandwich and root beer from the refrigerator and turned to go. As he did so, he nearly collided with a nurse who was coming behind him.

"Sorry!" squeaked Mark, bending over to pick up the paper bag he had knocked out of her hands.

As he handed her the bag, their eyes met. Hers were a gorgeous, vibrant shade of blue. Her locks of bright red hair were just as distracting.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bag from him.

Mark couldn't tear his eyes off the girl. She cocked her head to the side and grinned.

"Are you in there?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mark, snapping back to reality and clearing his throat. "Sorry. You have. . . very pretty eyes."

The nurse laughed.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Mark replied. "Hey, wait a moment. Aren't you Elayna Johnson? Jeff's nurse?"

"Yes, I am," she answered. "How did you know?"

Mark's face darkened considerably

"Jeff's the talk of the hospital," answered Mark distastefully. "The amnesiac with the mysterious scars, and all that."

Elayna looked shocked.

"They aren't making fun of him, are they?"

"Not that I know," said Mark. "But I'm no lover of gossip either way. He's just a kid."

Elayna fixed Mark with a curious look.

"You talk as if you know him," she noted.

"I don't, exactly," replied Mark, scratching at his short brown hair. "I was with the team that brought him in, though."

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I feel responsible for him, or something. You should have seen him. Helpless, afraid. You'd probably feel the same way."

Elayna nodded her head.

"I know what you mean. I've been taking care of him all week."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Mark. "How's he doing?"

Elayna frowned.

"Some days are good. Others, not so good. He's very quiet. I don't know if he's thinking, or if he just doesn't have anything to say."

Mark echoed her sad look.

"What does he do all day?"

"He mostly just stares at the ceiling," she said. "Sometimes he'll touch his face. Like he's trying to remember."

She looked at Mark.

"I think he's lonely."

Mark furrowed his brow.

"I might visit him," he said. "I'd like to see if I can't cheer him up."

Elayna smiled from ear to ear.

"I bet he would like that."

Chapter 10: Face to Face

He couldn't get it out of his mind. The image of his face haunted him like a vengeful phantom. His pale and leathery skin, bloodred lips, lidless eyes, and vicious smile stared back at him everywhere he looked.

He was a monster.

No, you're no monster. You're beautiful. Now turn that frown upside-down, dummy!

"Huh?" asked Jeff out loud. He looked around the room for the speaker. No one was there.

Did I imagine that? wondered Jeff. I gotta get out of this hospital bed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A nurse poked her inside the room.

"Jeff," she said sweetly, "you have visitors."

Jeff creased his forehead.

"Who?"

The nurse swung the door open and walked inside. Behind her, a man and a woman entered hand-in-hand. The man was in his late thirties with short hair and a clean-shaven face. The woman had long, flowing brown hair and a pleasant, but nervous, smile.

"Jeff," said the nurse, "this is Walter and Margaret Jefferson."

"It's you," said Jeff. "You're the one who hit me."

Walter froze. Margaret squeezed his hand encouragingly. He took a few steps forward. Jeff watched his steady approach unflinchingly.

"Come closer," said Jeff.

Walter knelt by Jeff's bedside, placing his hands on the edge.

"Son," he began, voice cracking, "I. . . I'm sorry. I didn't. . ."

Walter wiped his eyes.

". . . I didn't mean for this to happen. If I could go back, I-"

"Stop."

Walter cut off immediately. He didn't move a muscle. Jeff had spoken so suddenly, Walter's thoughts were scrambled.

Jeff took a deep breath, and grabbed Walter by the wrist.

"Mr. Jefferson," he began, "look at me. What do you see?"

Walter looked at Jeff, unsure of what to say.

"I see a teenage boy," he offered in reply.

Jeff nodded his head.

"And what more than that?"

Walter looked over his shoulder at Margaret. She had one hand over her mouth. Tears were welling up inside her eyes. He looked back to Jeff.

"I don't understand."

Jeff reached up with his free hand and ran a finger along his cheek.

"Yes, you do."

". . . scars," Walter managed.

"Bingo," said Jeff. "Ugly ones. And who knows how I got them? It must have been horrible."

Jeff pulled Walter a little closer.

"Could you live with yourself if you looked the way I do?"

Walter's heart was beating faster. Was Jeff angry with him? Where was he going with this?

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's entirely possible I wanted you to hit me," answered Jeff. "What if I stepped in front of you on purpose?"

Walter was speechless.

"It was no one's fault, Mr. Jefferson," continued Jeff.

He let go of Walter's wrist and took him by the hand.

"It just happened. No amount of blubbering on either of our parts is going to change that."

Tears ran down Walters face as Jeff spoke. Jeff hadn't just forgiven him. Jeff had told him that he had dine nothing wrong. Walter couldn't find words to describe how grateful he was. All that he could was squeeze Jeff's hand and cry his tears of joy.

Margaret approached the opposite side of Jeff's bed.

"Jeff, when they release you, how would you like to come and stay with Walter and me for a little while?"

Jeff's blinkless eyes widened.

"You. . . you want me to stay with you? Like. . . at your house?"

"Of course!" replied Walter joyfully. He looked up at his wife, and their eyes met. She winked at him. He smiled back.

"But. . . why?" asked Jeff. "I'm. . . nit exactly good company."

"Nonsense!" argued Margaret. "You're a sweet boy, and we would love to have you around. Besides, it's the least we can do until your real family comes for you."

"My real family. . ." repeated Jeff.

He had thought about them a lot over the past week. He didn't know who they were, or if they even existed. But he had wondered who they might be. He wondered if they were looking for him right now.

"What do you say?" asked Walter.

"I. . . I would love to," said Jeff.

Margaret leaned over and kissed Jeff on his gauze-wrapped forehead.

"We'll come to visit you every day until then," she said.

Jeff yawned, a huge yawn that nearly sit his head in two.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm. . . very tired all of a sudden. . ."

The nurse stepped forward.

"I think we should let him rest."

"Of course," said Walter, letting go of Jeff's hand. "Go to sleep, Jeff. We'll be back tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," mumbled Jeff as he began to drift off.

Margaret and Walter turned to follow the nurse out into the hall.

"Mrs. Jefferson?"

Margaret turned to look back into the room.

"Yes, Jeff?"

"Didn't the nurse say your name was Margaret?"

"Yes," she said. "Margaret Katherine Jefferson. Why do you ask?"

A headache nagged behind Jeff's eye, and he put his hand to his temple reflexively.

"I. . . I think I knew someone named Margaret. Someone close to me."

Chapter 11: Interesting Developments

"Erika Langford, twenty-two years old. Cut up in the middle of the night."

Agent Vince Brewer stood over the body of the victim, hands tucked away in the pockets of his suit coat. He regarded the crime scene with a somber expression. He had seen hundreds like it before, but it never got any easier. Still, not everyone had what it took to do his job.

He gestured to the sheets, which had been ripped from the bed, and an overturned lamp.

"There was a struggle," he noted. "She was awake when it happened."

"We guessed that, too," replied the officer in charge of the crime scene. "The killer came in, probably startled her awake, struggled with her, then shoved a knife in her gut. Slashed her face a little bit for good measure, too."

"It sounds to me like you guys have this under control," replied Agent Brewer with some annoyance. "Why contact the Bureau?"

"There's the kicker," replied the officer. "Right this way."

The officer led Agent Brewer across the room, careful to avoid disturbing the crime scene. Agent Brewer was just as careful. The officer stopped, gesturing to the window.

"This is how our killer got in."

The window was open, and the curtains were drawn. Bloody handprints lined the fabric. A few were plastered across the windowsill, revealing that the window had served as an exit as well as an entrance.

Agent Brewer's eyes were wide with surprise. He clenched his jaw and turned and stormed out of the room, taking long and deliberate strides. The officer hurried to keep up with him.

"There's more!" he called.

Agent Brewer ignored him and continued. He marched out through the front door, down the porch steps, and around the house. He didn't stop until he could see the window from the outside. The moment it came into view, something else did. It was difficult to see in the dying sunlight, but it was there.

Agent Brewer had taken down many a serial killer in his career with the FBI. One thing he had learned was that, to some of them, it was a game. They loved to play the game, and they loved to be recognized for playing. They lived for the coverage their dark craft received, for the names the media gave them. So, to facilitate this, some killers left behind a calling card. Agent Brewer had seen this particular calling card many times over the past three years.

The officer ran up alongside Agent Brewer and stopped to catch his breath.

"Now you know why we got ahold of the Bureau."

Agent Brewer clenched his fists as he approached the side of the house. The walls were painted white. There was no missing the message scrawled beneath the window. It was written in bright red letters. The medium had dripped, leaving long run lines beneath each letter.

"What is that written in?" asked Agent Brewer, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

"What do you think?" retorted the officer.

The message was simple. There were three words and nine letters in all, and each letter was capitalized.

GO TO SLEEP.

Agent Brewer closed his eyes. He felt like someone had punched him right between the eyes.

"That's it, ain't it?" asked the officer. "That's the Grin's handiwork, right?"

Agent Brewer opened his mouth to respond when something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look. It had been a momentary flicker of movement.

"Did you see that?" asked Agent Brewer.

"See what?" asked the officer. "All I see is some bloody graffiti and an open window."

Agent Brewer looked down at his feet. He noticed that his shadow had lengthened considerably as the sunk sank. His hat had almost reached the top of the house.

Agent Brewer wasn't wearing a hat.

"I need a moment alone," said Agent Brewer, turning to face the officer."

The officer furrowed his brow, but nodded. He didn't feel like arguing with a Fed today.

"Suit yourself, agent," muttered the officer as he turned to go. "See you back inside when you're ready."

"Thank you," said Agent Brewer, who returned his attention to his shadow once the officer was out of sight.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His shadow seemed to lean forward from the wall. It shrank, contorted, and lost all shape, like a two-dimensional cloud of smoke on the wall. Soon, it was no taller than the agent, and it began to take human form once more: flowing trench coat, wide-brimmed fedora, and a walking cane held in the right hand. Two miniscule spheres of red light gazed out at Agent Brewer from where the figure's eyes should have been. It was a living shadow, standing there against the wall before him.

The shadow man replied with a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to echo from every surface, even the ones in Agent Brewer's mind.

"I came to check up on you," replied the shadow. "You are busy?"

"Am now," answered Brewer, waving his hand at the bloody message.

The shadow studied the message for a moment.

"Hmmm," it mused thoughtfully. "The Grin. A dangerous killer. Certainly not someone you want running around free."

"Don't give me that," scoffed Agent Brewer. "You probably know who he is already. You've just been holding out on me for three years."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," whispered the shadow. "I keep many secrets."

"So why are you here?" asked Agent Brewer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I come bearing a gift."

The shadow stepped forward, away from the wall, now taking up three dimensions. The shadow man held something out towards Brewer. It was something sealed in plastic. Brewer stepped forward to get a better look.

It was a blood-spattered kitchen knife.

"The murder weapon," explained the shadow, "used to kill Erika Langford."

Agent Brewer reached out, accepting the sealed knife from the shadow man. He held it up to the dying light, studying the blade. It was covered in scraped marks, beaten, battered, and bloodied.

"Where the hell did you find this?" he asked.

"One gift at a time," replied the shadow, holding up an ebony finger and wagging it back and forth. "It should suffice to say that something has happened on my side. There's been an interesting development. I'm curious to see how it will play out."

The shadow man turned his back to Agent Brewer. He began to melt back into the agent's shadow, silently and swiftly.

"What about the Grin?" called Agent Brewer.

The figure was gone, but one final reply came whispering from within the shadows.

"Look for him."

Chapter 12: Merry Christmas, Happy New Life

Notes:

Salutations, my lovely readers! This chapter is long overdue, but now that I have finished my education I think can get on a regular schedule.

You can expect updates on Jeff the Killer: Recall every Friday evening, the good Lord willing. As for my other works, I will be updating them as time allows. I have many original projects in the works, as well as a potentially big opportunity on the way.

Eyes up. The Mysterious Realm is unforgiving!

Margaret.

He tossed and turned in the bed, eyes darting back and forth beneath his mangled eyelids. His pale, slender fingers grasped at sweat-soaked sheets. His feet kicked at some unseen foe, something watching him from the darkness.

Jeff's dreams were getting worse.

Margaret.

In a realm beyond this one, Jeff sat on a cold floor, knees drawn against his chest. His lips trembled as he whispered the word over and over.

Margaret. Who was she?

He ran his fingers through his wild hair. They came back wet with sweat. Jeff clenched his fists, searching desperately for memories that weren't there.

Who was Margaret?

"Who cares?"

Jeff jumped to his feet. The new voice was familiar, unpleasant, and it startled him.

"H-hello?"

"Hello."

Jeff spun around, throwing up his hands to protect himself. The voice had come from behind.

"Wh-who's there?" Jeff demanded.

From the darkness, a shape began to manifest. It was horrible, a beastly silhouette. Its crimson eyes glared hungrily at Jeff from the shadows.

"We are. No one else."

Jeff trembled. The creature's eyes demanded his attention; he couldn't look away, though he tried.

"Who are you?" Jeff croaked.

The silhouette seemed to slither through the darkness, eyes never blinking, never straying. It inched forward, little by little, until those horrible eyes were just in front of Jeff's.

"How could you forget me?" the shape asked. There was almost genuine hurt in its voice, as though it was sad that Jeff didn't recognize it.

Suddenly, Jeff found himself seized in an icy, crushing grasp. Frigid tendrils of shadow wrapped around his body, pinning his arms helplessly to his sides. He struggled, but it was moot. Wicked glee glinted in the crimson eyes of the beast as the shadows of its face began to swirl and pull aside. Within, a new face peered back. Jeff gasped.

"Beautiful, aren't I?" it asked.

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. His mangled eyelids did nothing to conceal the horror that now held him in its clutches. He screamed, a scream that went beyond the dream.

Then, he was sitting upright in bed, chilled sweat dribbling down his sides and neck. His hands trembled at his sides. He raised them before his face, flexing his fingers to make the shaking stop.

He had been having the same dream for a while now. His mind went back to Christmas Day. The Jeffersons had been there. Mark and Elayna had been there, too. Even Dr. Walton had stopped by. All of them had gotten him gifts.

"Oh, geez. . ." Jeff had muttered, sinking lower onto the hospital bed. "I wish you hadn't."

"Nonsense," Margaret had said with a wave of her hand. "Now get to opening."

Walter and Margaret had gotten Jeff a long, insulated leather jacket that went down well past the knees.

"To keep you warm when you finally go outside," said Margaret.

"And look here," said Walter, pointing to the chest. "It comes with a reflector. Now you can cross the street at night."

Jeff was silent for a moment.

"I love it," he said at last, running his hands over the leather. He enjoyed the way it felt. "Thank you both."

"My turn," said Elayna, presenting Jeff with a box wrapped in snowmen and reindeer. Inside was a portable CD-player, complete with headphones and a few CDs ready to go.

"I know how much you like music," she told him. "Now you can listen as often as you want."

Jeff looked through the CDs. They were all groups Elayna had introduced him to, that he loved to listen to: Linkin Park, Skillet, and more.

"Thank you so much," said Jeff, hugging Elayna around the neck.

"Anything for my little work brother," she replied with a giggle, hugging him back.

"You've still got one more," said Mark. He plopped a very small box down on the bed in Jeff's lap. The box was about the size of a TV remote. It was wrapped in simple red paper, with a little green bow holding it shut.

"What is it?" asked Jeff, turning it over in his hands.

"Only one way to find out," replied Mark, smirking and crossing his arms.

Carefully, Jeff slipped a finger under the edges of the tape, pulling it away little by little.

"Oh come on, we're not saving the paper," protested Mark. "Open it up!"

Jeff caved and ripped the paper away with a flick of his wrist. His mouth fell open. His voicebox cracked in two. Words tried to form on the tip of his tongue, but something powerful kept them at bay.

The present was a little box, bound in a faux leather material and hinged in the back. With trembling fingers, Jeff opened the box. Inside, his expectations were fulfilled tenfold. There rested a pair of sunglasses, with firm black plastic temples and thick dark lenses.

"I. . . I. . ."

"Look, I'm not saying you need them," stammered Mark, "just that, you know, with the sun, and with your eyes, and with the drops-"

Jeff's arms were around Mark before he could stammer out another syllable, his face buried deep in his friend's shirt.

". . . thank you," was all Jeff could croak through the raging torrent of feelings that swept over him. Mark put an arm around Jeff's shoulder in turn.

"You're welcome, little buddy."

Jeff pulled away from his friend's embrace, turning his eyes upon the room. Within the four light blue walls of the hospital room were the only five people in the world Jeff knew. They cared for him, and he for them. Warmth. Peace. Gratitude. Companionship Belonging. They all seemed to surge within him simultaneously.

No!

Jeff jolted, arcing his back and grabbing at his temple.

"Wh-what?" he mumbled aloud.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Mark, reaching out. Jeff's vision swirled. He saw Mark's face, Mark's stupid face, giving him that coddling look. Why, he ought to reach out and grab Mark by his skinny little neck. . .

A wave of shame and horror shot through Jeff like an electrified bullet. Those thoughts were evil, twisted and monstrous. They couldn't have been his. At least, he didn't want them to be his.

"I. . ." Jeff struggled. He could feel his eyes shaking in his sockets. Darkness was coming.

"Easy there," said Dr. Walton, hurrying over. "He's just exhausted. Give him some space, Mark."

Jeff had felt cold hands as they took him by the wrist, and colder hands as they took him by the mind.

That had been Christmas. For the first time he could remember, Jeff had known joy. Something had taken that joy from him.

Jeff seized the pocket mirror from his nightstand, staring intently into the crystal glass. His twisted reflection looked back at him. He bit his lip timidly. He hoped, he prayed, that a dream was all it had been.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #jtk #fanfiction #horror #story

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daily-coloring · 1 year

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Best of 2022 - Movies

Including morbid social criticism, soon-to-be cult thrillers, and unconventional fairy tales.

01. Triangle of Sadness - Dir: Ruben Ostlund - 2022 - Watched it twice so far but I’ll watch it again soon, that’s for sure. It’s just genius. He is a genius director. So far all of his films are my favorites.

02. Everything Everywhere all at Once - Dir: Dan Kwan - 2022

03. Parrallel Mothers - Dir: Pedro Almodovar - 2022 - I never cry in the cinema almost ever, but I did when I watched this.

04. Riders of Justice - Dir: Anders Thomas Jensen - 2020 - Laughed so much and so loud, everyone were looking at me on a plane and they couldn’t figure out what’s wrong with me.

05. The Lost Daughter - Dir: Maggie Gyllenhaal - 2021

06. The Father - Dir: Florian Zeller - 2020

07. Good Luck To You, Leo Grande - Dir: Sophie Hyde - 2022

08. House of Sand and Fog - Dir: Vadim Perelman - 2003

09. Spencer - Dir: Pablo Larrain - 2021

10. Help - Dir: Marc Munden - 2021

11. Licorice Pizza - Dir: Paul Thomas Anderson - 2021

12. Knife + Heart - Dir: Yann Gonzales - 2018 - Gay porn and murder in ‘70s Paris with Vanessa Paradies? Sold. Also dildo knives are scary as fuck!!!

13. Great Freedom - Dir: Sebastian Meise - 2021

14. After Love - Dir: Aleem Khan - 2020

15. Rainbow - Dir: Paco Leon - 2022 - Paco Leon, delivers a new fresh concept of Dorothy. Dora (maybe like Marco) is looking for her mother whom she has never met. Definitely not for everyone’s taste. Some people call it “pure art” others “wasted time”. Which one are you?

16. The Mitchells vs The Machines - Dir: Michael Rianda - 2021

17. Another Round - Dir: Thomas Vinterberg - 2020

18. The Nest - Dir: Sean Durkin - 2020

19. Catherine Called Birdy - Dir: Lena Dunham - 2022

20. The Worst Person in The World - Dir: Joachim Trier - 2021

21. The Wonder - Dir: Sebastian Lelio - 2022

22. I’m Your Man - Dir: Maria Schader - 2021

23. As Far as I Know - Dir: Lorincz Nandor & Nagy Balint - 2020

24. 15 Years - Dir: Yuval Habadi - 2019

25. By The Grace of God - Dir: Francois Ozon - 2018

26. Rams - Dir: Grimur Hakonarson - 2015

27. All My Friends Hate Me - Dir: Andrew Gaynord - 2021 - You sometimes sympathise with Pete, you sometimes hate him. But you're always thinking about what is going on!

28. All The Old Knives - Dir: Janus Metz - 2022

29. Swan Song - Dir: Todd Stephens - 2021

30. The High Note - Dir: Nisha Ganatra - 2020 - Loved it. It's not rocket science but it's thoroughly enjoyable. Easy to watch, some great one-liners, excellent performances... Haters gonna hate no matter what.

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

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Ask and Thou Shall Be Roasted:

@howl-fantasies

Maggie’s POV:

I got pulled into another one of those useless meetings with Oswald. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed our one on one time, but I wasn’t a criminal, so I didn’t really see the point of me being here. I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time at one of his outbursts. I was stood beside him on his thrown, looking out into the crowd of scared lowlifes shaking in the boots. I had to admit it felt quite powerful.

From across the room I locked eyes with Y/N, who as usual, wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. I sneakily whipped out my phone and brought up our chat.

Mags:

Not paying attention are we?

“Mom”:

It appears the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Dearest.

Mags:

Not fair, at least I don’t actually have to be here. This is a courtesy for me, you’re missing out on serious business

She raised her brow at me from across the room.

“Mom”:

Ahh yes, because this tantrum is so vital to my career.

I had to stifle a laugh as I sent my next message and gauged the assassins reaction. I didn’t want to get caught.

Mags:

I smiled on triumph as I saw here serious facade crumble for just a moment. Almost unnoticeable to the untrained eye.

“Mom”:

In a bullying mood today I see? 🤨

Mags:

Always 😈

“Mom”:

Well I’d certainly love to launch him into a wall.

Mags:

How original? The assassin has a thrust for blood.

“Mom”:

And other things 😏

Mags:

You’re disgusting.

“Mom”:

Mags:

More like he needs free therapy… I’m not volunteering 😂

“Mom”:

Nothing fixes my moon quicker, more then putting the fear of god into this man.

Mags:

Ahhh I see, you like your girlfriend to be, hairless, submissive and breedable…

This her?

What I wasn’t expecting was for Y/N to choke on her drink. All eyes in the room shifted to her and she cleared her throat. Oswald looked at her expectedly.

“Sorry boss”

He gave a a confused look, and went on with the meeting. Not before greeting me with a smile, which I quickly returned:

“Mom”:

I’m going to kill you 👀

Mags:

I think many people in this room would object. Have fun with that though. ☺️👍

I quickly made my way through my contacts and pulled up Vic’s number.

Small Child:

Come get your girl, she needs to be tamed.

Baldie 🚫💇:

What can I say, she’s a feral woman?

Small Child:

She’s beauty… she’s Grace… she’ll sit on your face 😍

I watched as Vic squirmed across the room, trying to focus in back on the meeting. But his actions didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N who glared at him from across the room.

“Family” Chat:

Mother:

Are the two of you texting when you should be paying attention? Do you need to be punished?

Baby girl:

Punish me Mommy, for I have sinned. 🧎‍♀️

Daddio:

Yes, punish us my love 👀

Mother:

I hate both of you.

Baby Girl:

Not what Ozzy’s chauffeur said when I asked him why he was scrubbing the backseat this morning 🤨

Can confirm. You only hate me.

Daddio:

Awww, she doesn’t hate you, you’re her favourite pet. 🐰

Baby Girl:

Gee thanks, I feel so loved.

Oh shit, Oswald’s wearing his angry face, I think we’ve been caught.

Mother:

Which one?

Daddio:

His “I’ll kill you with a baseball bat face?”

Baby Girl:

No, that’s definitely the look you’re receiving for sure. He’s looking at me more like-

Mother:

How are you so quick with these?

Baby Girl:

What can I say, it’s my hidden talent. I should go, before he throws his cane at Vic’s face. Catch you on the flip side losers, enjoy your capital punishment 😈

Daddio:

🖕

Mother:

😒

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Oswald looked up at me expectedly after the meeting was over.

“Sorry Oz, your goons were distracting me.”

He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, not once questioning my fib.

“Of course they were, those idiots, always trying to corrupt you.”

“I know, it’s awful.”

Thankfully he couldn’t hear the sarcasm behind my tone. Vic and Y/N would be bored without me honestly. Gotta spice up their lives somehow, you know besides the arson, mass murder, armed robberies and hundreds of accounts of aggravated assault. I watched as he shifted his glare to the two killers chatting across the room. As he stalked his way over I sent one last text to the group chat.

Baby girl:

Run. 👁👄👁

An: omg this was so much fun to write. I missed the sillier storylines for this group! God I love their dynamic so much. I gotta learn how to make my own memes so I can make them personal next time 😈

#gotham #gotham oc #magnolia blossom #maggie #gotham imagine #victor zsasz #y/n Zsasz #text meme #Gotham meme

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shimmershae · 2 years

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So. I slogged through TWD Episode 17-Lockdown and, you know me, I had some thoughts.

I always have thoughts. They’re not always coherent, but they’re definitely there.

Look behind the cut if you’re interested in skimming through them.

Slogged is definitely the word I meant to use because it took me almost 3 hours to consume this episode--I kept getting up and leaving to do other, more interesting things (blasphemous in the TWD fan days of old, the only way to keep my sanity in these trying times).

But like I said, I slogged through it and all I could think about afterward was thank God I didn’t pay AMC any money for this.

Shae’s stream of consciousness thoughts incoming in 3-2-1.

So finally, finally they are giving us some connection to the past, playing up on our nostalgia with Judith’s voiceover and the flashbacks.

IMHO, they should have included flashbacks of Lori in there since, you know, she’s kind of one of the biggest reasons why Judith is alive at this point and able to hear these stories. Like why is she hearing stories about Shane’s descent into madness and not stories about the mama that sacrificed her life for her? I mean, did I miss it or do they continue to do the most to erase Lori from the fabric of baby girl’s DNA?

That said? Carol and Lydia at the cliff! My forever bruised heart!

Oh lawd, more Daryl and Maggie. I can already tell this episode is going to be lacking because they are BORING AF together. Like there is just ZERO energy between them.

I love how Aaron says “Carol’s there” when Gabe worries about Hornsby going after their people/families. My girl is Team Family’s one woman protection squad.

You know I’m proud AF but also? I cry. Because who’s looking out for her? After the way so many of them seemed to turn on her last season, it doesn’t feel like they have her back back, you know?

Negan and Annie would be kind of sweet if they weren’t basically one of those mug cakes that you throw in a few ingredients and toss in the microwave for 30 seconds. Oh and if there weren’t actual good people still struggling to find their own happiness when this “reformed” murderer is basically getting to play house.

Negan really using that nasty ass Whisperer mask as the centerpiece to his entire wardrobe whenever he has “date night” has me simultaneously cringing and laughing because yuck. And also? Wonder if Annie’s like “Eww, didn’t I throw that out with the trash last week?”

I hate how my Denny Duquette crushing days rear their head at the most inopportune times. Like here I am, fighting against finding any redeeming quality in this butt abscess of a human being and I remember how charming Denny was and I’m like, fuckkkkkk. Let’s not even get into JDM fanning the flames of the hellscape that is fandom since AMC decided to insert its head so far up its ass I can see Scott Gimple’s bolo tie dangling between Chris Hardwick’s teeth whenever he opens his mouth and just glides over the spinoff debacle with 101 questions about Princess and Mercer and Judith’s hairstyle like it’s nothing.

Daryl and Negan tag-teaming it will never not make me go WTF. Like the ways in which TWD has contorted these characters to keep that fucker alive would be impressive in some kind of alternate universe where people weren’t such assholes about a woman mourning her murdered son and seeking vengeance and ultimately the protection of her people in a two birds, one stone kind of way.

Those Walkers ripping out those guts like people down at Disney during free dining (RIP) going ham after buffet snow crab legs.

·AMC lying even in its opening credits because Melissa McBride and Christain Serratos been glorified guest stars this season and they’re 2nd and 4th billed.

Oh look, they decided to put all 99 members of the cast in the opening. Cool, cool. Too bad only about 4 of them have had any appreciable screen time this season.

The comic style opening is cool and all but the original opening hit way harder.

Lance losing his shit in that suit is sending me.

Don’t they know they’re wasting a precious commodity in the ZA—fuel. Jeez.

Wow! Yumiko lives! Magna too.

You know Negan wants to comment on the pumpkin suit. I mean, that twinkle in JDM’s eyes is on point. He’s having to forcibly restrain his lesser angels (actually devils, but eh), lol.

Negan’s in is April? Guess she’s dead so she can’t refute his story. Makes sense. If I hadn’t rewatched the 2 minutes of that episode where Carol and Daryl awkwardly make a date and Carol comes to save her Pookie’s bacon recently I wouldn’t have remembered who TF she was though.

Carol!!! How is it possible she gets ever more beautiful every time we see her on our screens? Granted, AMC is doing the most to see how that absence makes the heart grow fonder thing works out.

Fuck TWD having her play babysitter. I know she’s been working things undercover and I know I’ve been salivating over Aunt Carol/Judith scenes for literal years but damn them for doing it this way.

Seriously. I hate how now they’re doing more than implying Carol has a relationship with these kids. You know, conveniently sidelining her from the action. They’ve been employing this same tactic for years. Remember when they kept her from Negan’s lineup (my only consolation is she was spared that trauma) by shipping her off to the circus that was the Kingdom?

That’s it! Daryl’s solo spinoff is about him going back in time to that silly Ren Faire and showing his girl why she belongs with him and not some man who would self-appoint himself King.

I kid. I think. Let’s move on from that farce, shall we?

I do like, however, that Daryl and Aaron know their kids (because let’s face it, Daryl’s had more time playing daddy to those kids than Rick ever got the chance to) are safest WITH Carol. Takes the wind out of the sails of the old and tired mantra of the haters that Rick never trusted Carol with his kids. Feels kind of like a fuck you, haters to me, lol.

Fake Stephanie and that other person I can’t remember the name of—hmm, guess they weren’t all that memorable. The hell are they doing coming in on Carol’s (Daryl’s?) apartment that way?

You know. I love the implication that Carol has been in that apartment enough that she’s super comfortable and knowledgeable about the whereabouts of everything but like, would it have killed this damn show to actually SHOW us Carol and Daryl slouching on a couch together instead of taking another whack at the dead horse that is Carol’s failed marriage with the petting zoo keeper? Would it have? Really?

Poor babies be pretty skilled at that quiet game. Especially RJ. ; )

“Where is Carol?”

Negan, Man. We been asking that same question the whole damn season.

Carol’s always right, lol. We been knew. Now we just got to convince the haters to accept that IN CAROL? EVERYBODY TRUSTS. Actually, we don’t. Because haters gonna hate. Sure would be nice though.

Carol’s been planning for things to go to hell from word go. Sending the babies to an attic safe space? Stocking it with supplies?

Oh look. They remembered Yumiko and Magna used to know each other.

They should have used Magna more in this class struggle in CW. Given us more scenes showing her struggles instead of Eugene getting his groove on.

Lockdown? Hmm. Oh damn. Just remembered that’s the name of the episode. My bad.

The hell did all those Walkers come from? Thought I was watching a different show for a second. I mean, I know my attention’s wandered quite a bit but still.

So Pamela releases “swarms” of Walkers on her citizens whenever she’s feeling some heat? Sounds like something, eh, nevermind. At least that’s the impression I got.

Negan talking to Carol like they’re friends. Look. I hate the hoops they’ve jumped through to keep him alive and relevant but I love the scenes he shares with Carol, lol. I realize there are some double standards at work here but they fascinate me because he respects the absolute shit out of her (AS HE SHOULD) and MMB/JDM have their own kind of magnetism at play.

Ya’ll already know all these Maggie/Daryl scenes are flatlining my interest levels but can you imagine if Daryl wasn’t there at all with her? Because I think I honestly would end up wearing my thumb out on the FF button. Like no offense to LC at all but she needs somebody dynamic or in direct opposition to her character to come alive because Maggie is too straight line A to B, black and white, what have you. They’ve muddied her up some this season but keep drawing the line at letting her really lean into the shades of gray because they want to keep her “heroine” persona intact. Guess it’s much easier for simple-minded folks to hate on Carol. Besides. MMB is much better at selling her character’s layers.

“I know that Leah meant something to you.” Bitch, please. Not as much as LCol hoped but I guess we’re supposed to at least pretend that whole waste of time Reapers storyline served some kind of purpose or had some miniscule impact.

Daryl looking out for Maggie because of Glenn. Now that actually tracks.

Little dude that plays RJ can’t even sell that he’s terrified for his life. He ain’t even breathing fast. Kid’s stone cold. As in dead and unable to portray human emotion. Flare some nostrils. Something. Damn. His parents putting back the money he’s getting from this show for his college fund though so kudos. Plus, he’s a cute little boo so. He still winning at life.

Oh goodie. Another trip through some sewers. Aren’t they worried the CW is going to smell them coming?

How shitty, literally, would it be to spend your eternity in a shit tunnel?

OFC, Carol sniffed out Sebastian.

“I have seen her pull little bunnies right out of her ass with my very own two eyes.” LOL. But also? Eww. What ya’ll wanna bet Gimple sits at his laptop gleefully rubbing his hands together as he thinks up Negan’s dialogue and it’s always the most cringe ever. Like there’s a distinct difference between the shit that has come out of his mouth this season versus last season. And it’s not like he was weaving sonnets but his words weren’t full body cringe inducing either. Dare I say it, they had more nuance. At any rate, even if Gimple didn’t write it himself, you can still see the faint impression of that damn bolo tie in the stamp on it.

Who is this random dude shouting on the megaphone? I literally don’t know or care anything about any of these people.

I mean, I know I’m supposed to care more about this protest but all I can see are a bunch of redshirts taking up screen time from the characters I’m really interested/invested in. And sadly? Kelly is the only “known” person in that crowd I’d be upset about if something happened to her. I’m just not there with Connie because largely? They’ve failed to put in the work to actually develop her, instead cheapening what she could be? By using her as a tool for shipping wars. If they stopped that bullshit and really and truly committed to fleshing her out more, I get totally get onboard because she has the foundation of a good character. But right now she’s a crepe paper flower whereas Carol’s a whole bouquet of homegrown Cherokee roses.

Rosita telling Mercer her family comes first and him respecting that and offering her help to get out if/when she needs it? One of the few moments of this episode so far besides the Carol moments where I’ve been like, yes. Give me more. I like this dynamic. We could have had so many more quality moments with Rosita had they cut all that Daryl/Maggie fat that’s unneeded. At this point, it isn’t even giving the episode more flavor.

Speaking of flavor--is it just me or are these Walkers especially ravenous this episode?

I love how my girl Carol is always ten steps ahead of every damn body but would it kill this show not to skip every step she takes until the final one?

Lance looks like he might enjoy a little knife play, lol.

The best thing I have to say about this episode insider thing is Angela’s hair looks pretty.

Anyway. I hope you got more enjoyment out of my free-flowing word vomit than I personally got out of the episode. I’ve yet to work up to caring enough to sit down and watch 18 but whenever I finally do, expect to hear all about it here, lol.

#The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead spoilers #Season 11 spoilers #Lockdown #Shae's thinky thoughts #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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nyxerebus · 3 years

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Not Him (Negan X Grimes!Reader)

A/N: I have a other Negan x Grimes reader series, but this is NOT a apart of that series, just a one shot i wrote :) You can read part 1 of that series here: I'm Her Daddy Now

TW: Gore, Make out, Blood, Angst

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Her back was pressed to the RV. The Saviours had started to force the people from Alexandria to kneel in front of it in a half circle. They hadn't noticed her yet. Would they recognize her? She had changed a lot since the last time she saw her dad and younger brother. Her hair was longer and darker, and her scarf was covering half her mouth and nose. She had started to look more and more like her father though, the famous Grimes stare would stare back at her in the mirror every morning. A cruel reminder of the family she had lost. The family she thought she had lost, until she saw them in front of her now.

Her eyes wouldn't leave her baby brother, how much he had grown! He was not the scared 11 year old she got separated from all those years ago, now he was a tough young man. And by the looks of his eye situation, it had been a long and rough journey since they last saw each other.

“Are we pissing our pants yet?” She rolled her eyes at Negans extravagant entrance. He was always like this, so much. “Boy do I have a feeling we're getting close”

She had been with The Saviours the past two years, been with Negan for one. She wasn't a wife, she was more than that. She was his girl, his right hand woman. By the look of how her father was staring at Negan, telling him about their relationship would be a tough talk. But nonetheless she looked forward to talking with him, to be able to be a family with them. She prayed they would forgive her for being on The Saviours side. Considering what was about to happen. This wasn't the first ‘punishment’ she had been a part of. She knew what was going to happen. She droned out when Negan went on with his speech about how they needed punishment, and how he owned them now. It wasn't until he was deciding who to kill that she focused on the conversation.

“eenie ... meenie ... miney ... mo '' Her blood ran cold when Lucille landed in front of her younger brother. “No!” She heard her father exclaim. “Shit, man. I’m usually not happy about child murdering, but Lucille is a thirsty woman!” He raised the bat. Her body acted before her brain could tell it no. She took long strides and placed herself protective in front of Carl, shielding his body from Lucille.

“Not him” She hissed out. Negan was taken back, usually (Y/N) wouldn't have trouble when he had to punish new communities. “The hell you saying?”

“Not. Him” She glared at him, she would rather die than let anything happen to her brother. Negan leaned down so only she could hear what he was saying. “You know him?”

“He's my brother,” she whispered. Negan took a step back and rubbed his beard. “You know I have to punish them” He gave her a stern look. “You want to kill him? You have to go through me. Take somebody else”.

“Listen folks” He was addressing his men. “Now some new information has occurred and it looks like my girl here knows this boy. Now I am a gentleman” His famous smirke etched its way to his face. “You all know I can't say no to my girl, but my other girl demands some punishment for their actions. Now I want to please both my girls at the same time. So, we spare the boy, but my girl has to choose who will take his place AND finish the job” He held out the end of Lucille to her, while the men in the back murmured in agreement and some even cheered her on.

She grabbed Lucille. “Go get em BabyGirl”. She turned around and faced Carl. He was crying now. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem as if it helped. Her eyes danced between the group that was kneeling. Her eyes landed on the large redhead, he pushed up his chest, as if he presented himself as a sacrifice. She walked over and stood in front of him. The dark skinned girl next to him cried out when she realized what was about to happen. (Y/N) was standing in front of him and leaned in, whispering so only he could hear. “I’m sorry”

“Don't worry, if it saves the boy. I’ll gladly take it” She raised the bat. and with all her might swung it down. The sound of the cracking of a skull was a sound all too familiar to her, but she had never heard it when she was the cause. it almost made her stop. But she couldn't stop. She took swing after swing. Knowing how Negan wanted him to end up, to end up in a mess of blood and brain goo. Blood splattered everywhere, and she had to fight back her dinner making its way up when she saw his skin tear and expose his brain. The bat felt heavier and heavier after each blow down onto the man's head. Christ, she didn't even know the name of whom she was killing. Cries and cheers filled the silent night. When she heard the splattering sound of the bat hitting the brain goo, she stopped. She turned around to face Negan, avoiding her family's gaze.

“Look at my dirty girls!” He exclaimed, and pulled her towards him, her back pressing against his chest. Blood had splattered on her face and upper body, but Negan didn't care. He never cared about blood getting in the way. He grabbed Lucille from her and turned her head sideways, so he could whisper into her ear: “Good Girl”

“(Y/N), I, what-” Rick was trying to speak, the shock of the situation still not leaving him. “I have to say, seeing my girls work together like this, just warms my heart-” He squeezed her closer; “and tickles my balls” He grinned at his men, who mostly chuckled at his crude words. “You can go to him” He whispered and realised his grip on her. She was about to walk away, but was stopped when he grabbed her arm. “Wait” He pulled her back so they were chest against chest. “Give me a kiss first” She just rolled her eyes, knowing he wanted to rub it in Rick's face that his daughter was with them, with Negan. Standing on her toes, she reached up and kissed him, she was going for a simple peck. But he tightened his grip around her and deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth and she had to bite back a moan. When he pulled back a string of saliva was still connected between them God, how he loved the look on her face. Covered in blood, with a post makeout haze still in her eyes. He laughed out and realised her. And without being pulled back, she walked over to Carl and kneeled down in front of him.

“Hey” She whispered out, he stared back at her with a dirty glare. But tears of seeing his sister for the first time after thinking she was dead was pressing on. But then one of the guys in the line up jumped up and punched Negan in the face. You gasped and were about to stand up. But Negans men handled it and held him down. “No, nope. Put him back”

She knew what was going to happen, Negan was going to kill one more. She wouldn't let Carl see that, see it again. “Don't look” She pulled him closer so his face was pressed against her chest, face turned the opposite direction of the group. Carl was fighting back, but gave up after his sobs got the best of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried into her chest. “Shhh”. The sounds of someone else getting beaten and the all too familiar cries filled the air once again. “No!”

“Its going to be okay” She tried to comfort him, “I won't let them hurt you” His sobs got louder when he heard the stuttering of the man who was being beaten; “Maggie I will find you”. He whispered the name of the dead man into her chest. “Glenn” Negan speaking and the cries of the group became just background noise. All she cared and focused on was her brother. She rubbed his head and back, trying to lull him into a calmer state. But she was pulled from her work on comforting her brother when Negan grabbed Rick and pulled him away. “No!” Carl shouted, sitting straight up and separated from her. (Y/N) held Carl back from punching up and attacking Negan. Negan sent (Y/N) a small nod, which she returned with her own nod. They were telling each other without words:

‘I can't promise he wont die’

‘As long as Carl lives, I don't care’

“Calm down Carl!” She held her back. He started to cry again, the fear of losing her father taking its hold on him. (Y/N) wiped his tears, bur cringed when some blood from her fingers stained his cheek. “Come here” He fell into her arms again. She didn't know what to do. She hoped Negan saved her father, but her father was a grown man. Her primary mission now was to secure her brother. And she would be damned if she didn't succeed.

#negan fanfiction #here's negan #negan smith #negan x reader #negan imagine #twd negan #negan #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #the walking dead negan #rick grimes #grimes reader #grimes family #reader insert #negan smut #daddy negan #carl grimes

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walkerwords · 3 years

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"Share Your Burden" Daryl Dixon & Daughter!Reader

Request From Anonymous: "Your writing is the best! You probably have a lot of requests, but if you wouldn't mind I'd like to request some more dad Daryl fics where he basically adopts the reader. Those are just always so good. Not sure I have a specific story in mind, just more dad Daryl and Daughter reader in general please. You're the best! 💖"

Summary: The reader is like a daughter to Daryl. When she sees him taken by the saviors, she will get him back and keep him safe even if it means losing some of her humanity.

Word Count: 4933

Warning: Violence, Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Carry You" by Fleurie and Ruelle

Note: Figured considering our show is coming back this month, I should get some stories in, huh? There are parts in this that are lightly inspired by Ellie in TLOU2.

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It had taken every ounce of strength not to move as you watched the man known as Negan brutally murder two members of your family.

Abraham’s blood was ingrained into your mind and Maggie’s screams echoed through your skull like bats in a cave. You wanted to scream, cry, and launch yourself at your new enemy to save those who you loved but you remained in the shadows of the tree you had climbed and waited. The group known as the Saviors milled around the clearing as Negan hauled your leader into the RV and drove off.

From your vantage point, you could see Daryl fading as he stared at the bodies of his brothers. Blood was dripping down his arm from the gunshot wound he had sustained from the blonde man above him. Looking at the way the sneering man held Daryl’s bow made you so angry it was hard not to drop down and plunge a blade into his pale neck.

Carl was with Michonne, trying not to look anywhere but the enemies that surrounded them. Carl was your age and he was also the person who you trusted the most to keep it together in situations such as this. You pulled your strength from your friend’s resolve and continued to wait.

Maggie was getting worse and that was why you had ventured out of Alexandria in the first place. Spencer had spotted you heading for the gate when he had tried to stop you. Ignoring him as always, you pushed past him and began the trek to Hilltop. It was on that journey that you came across the first roadblock and so you followed it.

You had never imagined that it would have led to the gruesome scene below you. Your knuckles strained around the handles of your knives, a pair that Daryl had given to you himself when you had settled at the prison. It was only after Terminus that he began to properly train you to use them. Right then, they had never felt more useless.

Daryl was your protector and he was the closest thing you had to a father. He had found you running from Walkers when the group was settled on the Greene farm. You had been alone for weeks and from then on, it was the two of you.

Daryl had been the one to protect you from Shane’s scrutiny, the piercing gaze of the Governor, and the cannibals of Terminus. In turn, you became his shadow, having his back wherever he went, always ready to defend him while also learning everything you could. Now, you felt as powerless as he looked. It had been a long while since the group had been this broken-looking.

It was heartbreaking.

It wasn’t long before Negan returned with Rick and after almost making your leader cut his own son’s hand off. Negan ordered his men to leave not without making demands of your family and hauling Daryl along with him.

Staring after the caravan of murderers, you weighed what you were going to do next. A weight was heavy in your pack’s front packet and while you knew it was risky, a plan began to form. One that would either get you or Daryl killed or perhaps even both. Still, you had to try.

Dropping to the forest floor, you took one last look at your people through the trees before taking off in the opposite direction and towards the main road, pushing your legs as fast as they would go.

“Hold on, Daryl,” you whispered in between haggard breaths, “I’ll be there soon."

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Daryl was in the back of the truck trying not to grimace every time the vehicle rolled over an uneven section of road.

Everything hurt and nothing felt right. He felt sick and above everything, he felt guilty.

The shock was still coursing through his veins as he heard Negan laughing in the cab upfront but he tried to tune it out as he thought of Glenn. It was instinct to go after Negan. Daryl hadn’t even thought about the repercussions that might happen as he got to his feet and charged the larger man.

It hadn’t occurred to Daryl to take a breath and think about what would happen next. They had never faced a menace like Negan before. Daryl thought he had seen the last of the bloodshed when they had escaped Terminus. At least, escaped the violence for a while before it caught back up to them again.

It wasn’t long till Daryl’s pain began to increase as the adrenaline wore off. Dwight was sitting across from him, holding his crossbow and Daryl wanted to strangle the man.

He had helped Dwight with Sherry and Tina. He had tried to keep Tina alive when he returned the insulin. Daryl couldn’t help but be enraged while looking at him, but he understood the betrayal in a way. He knew what people became in the new world and according to Dwight, Negan was the lesser evil of trying to survive on his own.

Daryl then only wondered what happened to Sherry.

They were going down another road as Daryl leaned to the left as the truck turned sharply. He blinked away the sudden twinge in his shoulder and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in discomfort. He wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction.

Suddenly, from the front of the cab, Negan shouted, causing Dwight to jump in his seat. “Shit!” Negan swore and then there was a flash of light, a loud bang, and then they were airborne. Daryl had barely a second to brace his hands on the roof of the truck before it slammed into the road, the metal exterior shredding sparks along the neglected asphalt.

Smoke and dust filled the air as Daryl tried to get his bearings. He could hear the muffled shouts of Negan and his men followed by a few gunshots but his ears were still ringing.

Across from him, Dwight was groaning in pain as blood dripped from his brow. His hands had let go of the bow and in a sudden surge of energy, Daryl dove for his loaded weapon.

Clutching his hands around the crossbow, Daryl scrambled for the back door, trying to get to his feet. A hand then circled around his ankle as Dwight realized what was happening. Turning around, Daryl blindly fired a bolt and it struck Dwight in the shoulder, mirroring Daryl’s own wound for good measure.

Dwight went down in pain and Daryl continued to move. As he fumbled for the door that was hanging half open due to the crash, he could hear yells of pain out in the warm air followed by the sound of someone choking as if they were drowning. Even half-aware of what was going on, Daryl could recognize the sound of someone choking on their own blood.

Daryl slammed his good shoulder against the broken door with a frustrated yell and finally felt the sun on his face. “Don’t kill her!” Daryl heard Negan scream. “Jesus fucking Christ, Arat!” Daryl tried to get back on his feet but everything was too bright and he was still trying to figure out what had happened and who Negan was talking about.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand around his arm that he seemed to snap back into his body. Aware that he hadn’t reloaded a new bolt into his bow, he swung his arm, trying to clip his assailant in the head with the bow. “Fuck! Daryl!” a familiar voice exclaimed to his right. The arm around him tightened as Daryl’s eyes finally focused on the person at his side.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed as he took in your face that was covered in blood and a wild look echoed from your eyes.

“We have to move,” you said earnestly. “Now!” Not questioning your demands, Daryl nodded and allowed you to take his bow as you grabbed for it. Slinging the bow onto your back, you grabbed the lighter Daryl had given you and he watched as you took a breath, no doubt sending some kind of prayer to the universe before you threw it into a pool of gasoline, igniting it and sending Saviors diving for cover.

Bullets flew by you as you hauled Daryl to the woods. “Don’t fucking shoot her! She’s a goddamn kid!” Negan screamed at his men.

Daryl leaned heavily on you as you dragged him towards the treeline. He didn’t hear much of what you said after that as his feet blindly followed you. “Negan,” Daryl choked out, trying to get you to understand.

“Leave him,” you said, trying to carry both of your weights. “Come on, Daryl, I can’t carry us both,” you pleaded, trying to get his mind to catch up with his body. It took another minute or so before the ringing subsided in his ears and the world got back into focus. Taking a few deep breaths, he got back into his normal gait and began speeding up his steps as he followed you through the woods.

You kept the crossbow on your back but he was soon able to walk on his own. “What did ya do?” Daryl asked as you stumbled down an embankment and carefully crossed a stream.

“What I had to to get you away from them,” you said as you helped him over the slippery rocks. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I need you to keep moving. There’s a town just through these trees, we can hide there for the night.”

“They’ll find us, (Y/N),” Daryl said as he pressed his hand against the bullet wound that was bleeding again. You looked at him, your eyes still wide from the fight.

“Then I’ll handle it,” you said. “It's my turn to keep you safe.”

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The heat was horrid by the time you and Daryl arrived in the abandoned town.

Even with Daryl still in pain, you made the two of you circle back three times in order to cover your tracks. However, eventually, you knew he couldn’t take more before he finally keeled over. Keeping the crossbow loaded, you moved silently through the back alleys of the small town, looking for both Saviors and Walkers alike.

After the quarry horde had been redirected, the larger groups of the dead had been far and few between but that didn’t mean Walkers were gone altogether. Silently, you took down four Walkers before you found the destination you had in mind.

The old town library was something you and Sasha had found when you had accompanied her on a hunt one day. The latches on the doors still worked and it had enough blindspots inside to hide from the Living and the Dead.

You stood watch as Daryl wrestled with the doors. The Southern heat warped the frames a bit but eventually, Daryl was able to push one open and slip inside. You followed quickly and shut it behind you. Placing down the bow, you shoved a fallen bookcase in front of the double doors before collapsing against it for a second.

“Okay, this should hold,” you said with another breath. Daryl was swaying on his feet when you looked back at him. “Come on,” you said, picking up the bow and leading him into the main area of the library.

For such a small town, the library was a decent size. You figured that it was probably the main community hub for the neighborhood. It made its untouched books and abandoned keycards that much more sorrowful. Depositing Daryl on one of the lumpy couches, you grabbed your flashlight from your pack and clicked it on.

“I’m going to go make sure there’s no Dead in here,” you said. “Stay here and I’ll be back to take a look at that shoulder.”

“(Y/N),” Daryl said, grabbing your hand before you could move.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. Daryl seemed to be wary but he was also exhausted so he relented and let go. You gave him your canteen, ordered him to drink, and then you began your search.

The dried blood on your skin was driving you crazy as it itched with every second. When you had set out after the Saviors, clutching the grenade you had stolen from Spencer’s stash a few days before, it hadn’t occurred to you that there would be a before and an after.

Before you managed to get to Daryl and after you got him.

Now, it was all about survival. You knew what you had done. Negan was pissed and if you knew anything about his temper solely based on the clearing, then you knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

You feared for your family back in Alexandria. If he wanted to, Negan could go and terrorize your family, perhaps kill more of them. None of that had been on your mind when you began your rescue operation. You weren’t thinking about anyone but Daryl. You had to save him and you were willing to risk your life. Though, now, you realized it wasn’t just your life you were risking.

Shaking the thoughts out of your mind, you finished your rounds through the two stories of the library. You were surprised to only find two Walkers who were less than “alive”. Both were barely hanging on and you figured one of them had been the librarian at some point. You took them both out to end their suffering and then headed back to Daryl.

Daryl was still awake when you joined him on the couch and helped him out of his shirt. The gunshot wound was getting worse and you could tell he was trying to put on a brave face for you. “You don’t have to do that, you know?” you said as you dug through your bag for the alcohol and bandages you always had with you.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Act as if nothing is hurting,” you said, pouring some of the alcohol on a rag. Not giving him a warning, you pressed it against his shoulder and Daryl swore as it burned the wound. “See,” you said with a smirk.

“Ya shouldn’t have done it,” Daryl said after a second.

“If I hadn’t, then you would be dead or worse,” you said. “I wasn’t going to let Negan take anyone else from me. Not after Glenn and Abraham.”

“You saw,” Daryl said and it wasn’t a question. You began cleaning the excess blood off before finding your suturing kit.

“I was in a tree,” you whispered, threading the needle, suddenly very grateful for the lessons Herschel had given you. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

“Maybe he should have,” Daryl said and your hands froze. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you could see the emotions that were raging in him.

“Daryl…”

“He said not to move, kid,” Daryl said. “I lost it after he killed Abraham. If I hadn’t… Glenn would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. We slaughtered that outpost, hell, I’m surprised he didn’t take more people out. I know you and the others think I’m just some kid but I notice more than you think and I have learned to read people. Negan is… I don’t think he’s some kind of deranged maniac but he’s ruthless and he’s not going to stop until he feels as if he has all the power again. At least I can see that he’s not willing to kill kids. Guess that means Carl and I are gonna be on the front lines this time,” you finished with an attempt at humor.

“Not funny,” he said.

“Daryl, you and I both know that this isn’t going to end without a fight.”

“You ain’t fighting,” Daryl said sternly. You ignored him and began stitching up his wound, careful not to pull too much.

“Considering the way Rick was looking at Negan before I left, it doesn’t look like he had much fight left in him. Someone has to do it.”

“Rick has a lot of pressure on his shoulders,” Daryl defended but you just shook your head.

“I watched him tear a man’s throat out with his teeth, Daryl,” you said. “This was different. I warned you about his pride and how it was going to be his downfall. He just needs to be reminded of the leader he is.”

“Since when are ya so mature?”

“Since I watched the people I love get killed again and again,” you said as you tied off the last stitch.

“You blame Rick,” Daryl said.

“I blame all of us,” you said, picking up the clean bandages. “We believed that moron at Hilltop… We never should have gone after the Satellite Station, Daryl. We keep doing this, getting involved in fights that aren’t ours.”

“We have to help people,” Daryl said. “It’s what we do.”

“Why? Why do we have to? Why is it our responsibility? Why can’t we just survive like everyone else?”

“Someone has to be the good guys,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he believed it.

“I’m sick of being them,” you admitted, finally sitting back.

“Ya really mean that?” Daryl asked as he shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulder. You sat there for a minute before sighing.

“No,” you whispered. “I’m just sick of the death.”

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Daryl was asleep finally and you became the sole protector.

It was odd, the role reversal. So many times you had been the one hurt and cowering as Daryl protected you. Now, after seeing all the horrors you had since Terminus, your skin was stronger than stone. It was going to take a lot more than a bastard with a bat to break you.

You could hear Daryl’s soft snore from the lounge as you scanned the darkness. You stayed there, watching until the soft rumbles of a truck echoed through the night. Ducking down, you watched as a pickup truck drove slowly through the town, a spotlight scanning the empty storefronts.

"Fuck," you whispered. Glancing at the bow by your side, you made a quick decision as the truck came to a stop and three men, Saviors, jumped out.

Sneaking back towards Daryl, you left his bow, loaded, by his side. Taking one last look at him, you slipped your jacket over your shoulders and headed to the second floor. An open window welcomed you near the back exit. Being an avid climber it was easy to maneuver out onto the slanted roof and grab onto the drainage pipe to take you to the ground.

Muffled voices reached your ears as you kept to the shadows. "Spread out, kill the man, take the girl," a man said, a voice you didn't recognize.

"That girl nearly killed Negan," another said.

"We are Negan," the third said. "And we do what he orders. Saviors don't kill kids. Find her." While it was a bold statement, you knew it was false. Hilltop had said, a boy was murdered. None of that fit.

Trying not to overanalyze anything, you focused on the task at hand. Picking up a large rock, you threw it as far as you could. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air and a set of boots took off in that direction.

As the second man went West, you focused on the solo scout who headed towards the abandoned police station. As you got closer, groans reached your ears. Spotting the Walker first, you snuck up behind it and slit its throat with a single slice. The gargling of Dead blood and empty lungs perforated your surroundings but it was enough to call attention to the Savior.

"Ugly motherfucker," the Savior said, not yet spotting you as you stood behind it. As the Savior drew his blade to silently end the creature, you shoved the Walker forward onto the man.

Stunned by the sudden momentum, he cried out as the Walker bit into the face before it. The Savior’s scream was cut off short as the Walker found its next meal. As soon as the damage was done, you finished off both, making sure to stifle the sounds that would pull your other two targets closer. Dragging both bodies out of sight, you slipped back into the shadows.

-----------

Moving West, you avoided any other Walkers who were wandering.

Not looking to be tracked by the Walker equivalent of breadcrumbs, you made sure to stay hidden for the most part. Finally spotting your next target, you began wishing you had grabbed Carl’s gun with his silencer before you had followed after the caravan. Only armed with knives now, you had to make do.

The Savior was looking through a desolate pet shop as you snuck in through a broken window, careful not to make too much noise with the shattered glass.

Picking up a tennis ball that had been neglected, you rolled it towards the aisle the Savior was looking in. Just like a curious golden retriever, the man followed the little ball right into your path. He barely had time to shout a warning before your knife was embedded into his carotid.

His eyes were wide as blood poured onto your hand. Keeping your nerve, you twisted the knife and fully severed the artery. The man fell to his knees as you pulled the blade free. Clutching his throat, he tried to speak but no sound came. “You’re not going to find him,” you whispered as he fell back and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Quickly, you shoved your blade into his brain before grabbing his weapon. It wasn’t silenced but it would have to do if it came down to a firefight. Turning back towards the main street, you ran from the store in hopes of catching the final Savior before he sounded the alarm.

-----------

The truck was still there but its driver was nowhere to be seen.

Noticing the keys were still in the ignition, you rolled your eyes. Pocketing them, you waited in the cab, hoping the final man would return soon.

Fatigue was starting to set in as you waited and you began to think of when the last time you slept was. Before the turn, you had imagined your teen years to be full of parties and late nights studying for tests in high school. You did not envision you would be waiting in the dark of a truck, ready to get more blood on your hands.

Unlike Carl, it hadn’t been at the prison when you first killed someone. It had been before you had even met Daryl. Before you wandered onto the Greene farm and Daryl and Carol had found you, you had been traveling with your aunt and uncle when bandits had attacked you and killed both before turning their sights on you. Not knowing how to use a gun, only ever seeing your uncle use it and of course, in films, you blindly fired and killed one and then the other. The third, who was just a teenager, had runoff.

After that, you felt ashamed at how you didn’t feel bad about doing it. Shane had explained that it was okay because you did it out of self-defense and Daryl and Maggie had agreed.

Now, as fresh blood joined the flaking blood on your hands, you tried to rationalize that what you were doing now was in defense of another. If the Saviors got Daryl back or killed him, you would not have been able to handle it.

“Focus,” you whispered to yourself. “Handle this and get back to Daryl. He needs you.”

It didn’t take long for the man to return. The man was speaking into his radio and it had never occurred to you to take the other walkies off the other bodies. However, now you knew you weren’t leaving without this one. If Rick wanted to fight and you were hoping that he was, then having a Savior’s radio, attuned to Negan’s base of operations would be a great start to gather intel.

Angling yourself in the front seat, you waited for him to open the door. Steadying your hand, you took a deep breath in, leveled the stolen gun, and just as the driver’s side door pulled open and the overhead light clicked on, you fired one bullet, hitting the man in the head.

Surprised by your own accuracy, you shuffled out of the cab, grabbed the radio, and shoved the body underneath the car. You waited then, for either more Walkers or the cavalry but when none came, you ran back to the library, hoping the shot didn’t wake Daryl. You weren’t in the mood for a lecture.

-----------

“Are ya really that reckless?” Daryl said as soon as you snuck back into the library.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you said, nonchalantly.

“Bullshit, I can practically smell all the blood on you,” he said, folding his arms. His bow was still by his side and after the small amount of rest, he was clearly not in the mood for your aloofness.

“I told you I would protect you,” you said as you moved to your pack and grabbed the discarded canteen, and poured some water on your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the sick smell of iron. "Now, we need to figure out what to do," you said.

"We need to get home," he argued.

"We're going to Hilltop," you said. "They'll be looking for you at Alexandria and you know it."

"Both of us," he pointed out with a slight glare.

"Negan doesn't scare me," you said to him.

"He should."

"We've seen worse," you countered.

"You're too young for all this shit," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"So you've said before," you reminded him.

"(Y/N)..."

"If you're about to say that I need to distance myself from you. You'd be a moron. I'm not leaving you. If you don’t like it, any of it, then you never should have taught me to fight.”

“That’s right, I taught you to fight, not to kill,” he argued. Throwing the water bottle down, you turned on him.

“What is this about? I’ve seen you kill people. I’ve seen you do worse than taking a few people out to protect someone in our family. What is actually going on here and don’t say that it’s because you’re feeling guilty. It's more than that.”

“Ever think I don’t like seeing you like this," he gestured to your bloody clothes. "Do ya think I want ya to become someone like Negan? Ya act like taking a life ain’t that big of a deal!”

“Will you stop shouting,” you hissed, moving closer to him. “Daryl, I did what I had to. I am so sorry that you think you are the only one who is allowed to cross lines to protect us. I think you forget all the times we have had to save you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you getting mad at me for saving your life. Do you not realize how much you mean to me? I lost my parents before the turn and then my aunt and uncle and I had nobody. Nobody until you found me in that field. You are the closest thing I have to a father, Daryl and I don’t care what I have to do to make sure I don't lose another parent. I can’t handle it, okay? Please, just let me protect you for once!"

The emotions were taking you over then and it was hard to control them. “I don’t mean to cry and all that,” you said, sniffing back the tears, “but you can’t expect me to just sit back and do nothing when people keep trying to take you away from me.”

Daryl’s stern look dissipated then and it made you feel a bit worse. Wiping at the tears on your face, you turned away from him. Soon, you felt his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest just as he had earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, you were just tryin’ to help. Okay, I ain’t mad.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” you said into his chest.

“I just worry about ya,” he said. “Ya know why?” Shaking your head, he tightened his hold. “Cause I see ya as my kid, too and I would do anythin’ to keep ya safe. I guess I gotta accept you’re going to do the same." Stepping back, he wiped the tears off your cheeks. “Just no more sneaking out, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed. "Daryl, just know you don't have to carry it all. You can share your burden."

"I thought I was the parent here," he said.

"Family works both ways."

"Yes it does," he said.

Then with a bit more of a smile, you produced the keys you had stolen from the car. “I got us a ride cause you're still stuck with me."

"You're so stubborn," he said.

"I got it from you," you said with a gesture to the street. "You're going to have to drive."

"Right, no need to almost die twice in twenty-four hours," he said and you offered him a small smile. Daryl then took your hand in his as he gathered your pack. "I ain't leavin' you. You're stuck with me, too. I got you, kid,” he said. "And thanks for comin’ to get me.” You looked up at him and nodded.

“Always.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @agent-laufeyson @lucillethings

#The walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x daughter!reader #apolloloki97 #walkerwords #negan #twd #daryl dixon imagines #twd imagine #daryl dixon

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Survival of the fittest - Kinktober 11

Summary: Daryl and you are at each other’s throat.

Kinktober Special: Enemies to lovers

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Characters: Rick Grimes, Maggie Greene, OC Jack

Warnings: angst, language, enemies to lovers, mentions of forced relationship (past Negan x Reader; no description), mentions of/implied non-con (past Negan x Reader; no description), mentions of characters death/murder, attempted murder/sexual assault (not Daryl/no decription), mentions of attempted suicide/suicidal tendency, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, two idiots in love, fluff, hurt & comfort

A/N: Please head the warnings for this story!

Kinktober 2021

Cool text divider by @firefly-graphics

“Who died and made you the boss?” hands on your hips you glare at Daryl, your chosen nemesis. Well, your main nemesis is the endless stream of undead and rotten bodies roam the world. But Daryl is your favorite enemy.

“Rick said—” rolling your eyes you stuff your hands into your pockets. “What?” Daryl is not a fan of you, but he was willing to bear your presence for the time being.

“Rick said—” you mimic Daryl, even the frown he always wears around you. “Can you not for once think for yourself? He’s not the boss.”

“That’s where you are mistaken,” Daryl takes a step toward you to eye you up and down. “We all agreed a long time ago he has the commando. Rick kept all of us alive. You should pay him respect.”

“I did not vote for him,” while Daryl mutters something under his breath, you try to ignore Rick is watching you and his protégé like a hawk.

“What did I expect from someone living with the devil for the longest time,” you sneer, shuddering at the memory of your time among Negan’s wives.

“I never had a choice,” swallowing the lump in your throat you turn away from Daryl to blink the tears away. “If he tells you that he wants you to become his wife, you’ve got no choice.”

“Y/N, I—”

“You what?” twirling around, you jab your finger into his chest. You glare at him, hiding he hurt you deeply behind a bitch face. “Did you believe I wanted him to touch me, to use me as a toy? That I wanted to feel used and dirty all the time. None of his wives is with him on free terms. You let him do anything he wants to do to you, or he kills you—or worse.”

Daryl tries to ignore your voice cracks or that a single rogue tear escapes your eye. He hates you with passion, but sometimes, the lines blur.

Sometimes he forgets you stood by Negan’s side when he killed Glenn and Abraham or that you smiled sweetly at the monster terrorizing Rick and his group.

“Let’s get this over with. Rick wants us to check on the stores in town,” you hate to take orders from another man, but Maggie saved your life, and you don’t want her to get into trouble.

“Fine, give me five minutes and we can hit the road or what’s left of it,” Daryl gives you an almost smile before he presses his lips into a thin line. He can’t warm up to you, the enemy’s concubine.

He just can’t…

“What else?” you look around the store while Daryl guards the door with another newcomer, the one Rick’s group easily warmed up to. “Maggie?”

“Stop talking and get the shit Rick wanted you to find,” Daryl jerks his head toward the half-empty shelves at the pharmacy. “Hurry, we don’t have all day.”

“Yes, Sir,” Maggie snickers when you flip Daryl the bird. “Maggie, you can take the left side, I’ll take the right side. We will meet in the middle and check on the list. Here,” ripping the list into two halves you give Maggie a cracked smile.

She’s one of the few people treating you like an equal, not Negan’s former plaything. Maggie is the only person who knows everything Negan did to you, and why you tried to kill yourself when she found you.

“Sound like a plan,” Maggie takes one half of the list. “Let’s do this.”

“I got everything from my list except for the band-aids,” you check on your half of the list again. “We could check the shelves over there too.”

“Together this time,” Maggie looks around the room, scans the store like she did a hundred times before. “Looks clear. Stay close to me and remember the rules.”

“I got my katana,” cutting through the air with the sharp blade you smirk. “It’s one of the few things I cherish in this rotten world. The blade, my grandfather’s pocket-watch and—”

“And?” Daryl cocks his head to watch you empty the shelf alongside Maggie. “I asked you a question, Y/N.”

“The knife I used to leave a scar in Negan’s face,” Maggie frowns when the hand holding the katana begins to tremble. She places one hand onto your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “We should hurry, Mags. More walkers could roam the area.”

You ignore Daryl watches your every step or that the newcomer scrunched up his nose, whispering something under his breath. “Y/N is right,” while Maggie throws anything she can find into one of the duffle bags, you keep an eye on the newcomer.

There is something about Jack making you feel unease. Of course, no one would believe you, or that your gut instinct tells you to stay away from him as far as possible.

“That’s all,” you zip up your three duffle bags to follow Maggie toward the exit. “We should head back now before it dawns.”

“Oh, princess gives us orders now,” you physically flinch at the pet name. For a split second, you let your mask slip, allow yourself to shudder as memories flash up in your mind. “Y/N?” Daryl must touch your shoulder to get you out of your trance.

“I’m fine,” you shake his hand off, shoulder your bags to follow Maggie outside. “I do not give orders, never held any power. It was simply a suggestion to not wait too long. Or do you want to get killed?”

“No. Let’s ride then…” Daryl watches you walk next to Maggie, frowning deeply. “Guess that was another weak spot, Y/N.”

“No! I will not stop talking about it! Something is off with that guy, I just know it, Rick,” against better judgment you tried to talk about your gut feeling with Rick and as expected, he brushed your concerns off.

“He’s new here and wants to earn his place. Just like you,” Rick indicates he still doesn’t trust you without telling you so.

“Okay…fine,” you throw your hands up in surrender, sighing deeply. “I wanted to tell you about my hunch, Rick is all. But if you say he’s a good guy, I have faith in you.” You lie, but Rick doesn’t have to know.

“Greetings from Negan, bitch,” your gut feeling was right. Jack definitely is not a good guy. Right now, he’s pressing a knife to your throat while his free hand tries to grope your chest. “He said I shall kill you slowly, didn’t say anything about not having some fun first.”

“I think,” Jack screams in pain when someone rams a knife into his back, twisting the blade to kill him, “the lady doesn’t like getting touched.”

“Maggie?” you choke on your tears, fall into her arms whilst you try to ignore Daryl checks on your now dead attacker.

“I had a hunch too,” Daryl cleans the knife he used to kill Jack on his pants. “I remembered his face last night. When Negan held me hostage, that bastard sneaked around the cells.”

“Why do you care? Rick gave a shit on my opinion when I told him that bastard hides something but,” you huff, “I guess being Negan’s plaything still sticks on me.”

“Y/N that’s not true,” you gently pat Maggie’s cheek to tell her you appreciate everything she did for you. “Don’t do anything stupid again.”

“No one cares if I die. You are better off without me, Maggie. I stood next to Negan when he killed the man you loved,” struggling to keep a straight face Maggie looks at you, tears in her eyes. “I’m worthless and weak. Easy prey for a predator like Negan.”

You storm out of the room before Maggie can stop you. “Great, now she will try to harm herself again…”

“You shouldn’t be out here in the woods on your own,” Daryl’s deep voice whispers. He places one hand onto your shoulder, gently squeezing it. “Come on, let’s head back.”

“It’s been two months since Jack tried to kill me, still everyone believes I willingly let Negan—” you shake your head, eyes filled with tears once again. “He liked to mark me with his knife and belt. Some nights he acted like a lover and on other nights, he let his frustration out on me in any way.”

“We should go back,” he tries but you keep on staring into the distance. “Let me bring you back.”

“I tried to pretend to not be there, in his room,” you continue, voice unwavering. “But he wouldn’t let me. Anytime I tried to stare at the ceiling or wall, he got more aggressive, to make sure I must look at him.”

“Sugar,” Daryl grasps your wrist. “I will bring you back, okay. Come on, you don’t want to die out here in the middle of nowhere. We will go down in a blaze of glory.”

“Did Maggie ever tell you about the day she found me? That I just escaped Negan?” you turn around to give Daryl a cold glare. “Oh, I forgot. All of you believe I fucked him and liked it…”

“Frustrating bitch,” Daryl storms into the room you share with one of the other newcomers, a nice and shy girl. “I told you to keep your hands off my bike.”

“I had to get more medicine and stuff. All cars are gone, Daryl. I brought it back in one piece,” you smile sweetly, but your eyes give your lie away.

“I know you are lying. Where did you go with my bike?” he’s in your face, breathing heavily. “Tell me.”

“I—” you lick your lips, “wanted to get out of here for a while. Sometimes I need fresh air.”

You just stare at each other for a while, fighting for control. “Bitch,” he grabs you to push you against the wall, lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. “I hate you so much.” You fist his hair, tug harshly, making him growl.

His hand moves under the shirt you are wearing, shoving your panties aside to find your clit to toy with you. “I dare you, bastard.”

“What do you want,” his fingers slip inside of your soaked hole, easily find the spot making you squirm. “Tell me, sugar.”

“Make me forget,” you fist his shirt, forcing him to look at you, “make me forget about him, please. I need you to fuck him out of me.”

“How?” he purrs against your lips, greedily kisses you again. “I need to know.”

“Hard. I want it to hurt,” he smirks, eyes dropping to his hand under your shirt. “Please.”

“Say red if you want me to stop,” you are both naked in a matter of seconds. Clothes end up splattered on the floor. He hoists you up in his arms, slams you back into the wall to claim your lips again.

“Fuck me and shut up. I don’t need a safe word.”

You have your fingers in his hair, while claiming his lips, tongue snaking into his mouth.

The fucking smell of his musk and the way he tastes drive you crazy. It’s wild and rough but you love every second.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he holds you against his scared chest with one strong arm, breathes against your lips, eyes holding your gaze. “Do you want this? We can stop.”

“Don’t be a pussy now, Dixon,” slipping one hand between your bodies you run it up and down his length. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” he slowly inches his way into your body, takes his time to savor the moment you look at him with glassy eyes. “Look at me, sugar.” Daryl slowly moves in and out of you, makes it feel all too gentle. “I won’t fuck you like that.”

“Why not?” you grip his shoulders. “I want you to—” he’s claiming your lips in a soft kiss while grinding into you.

You allow yourself to press your forehead against his and let him press you against the wall.

“You’re not his toy anymore…never were,” he kisses you deeply, “you’re safe with me, sugar.” Daryl starts to fuck up into you, groaning your name with every thrust. “Baby.”

“You—feels so good,“ while he tries to push you over the edge, moving his hips a little faster you hide your face in his neck. “Please.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Daryl almost whispers. “You can cum for me, baby. Don’t hold back. Lemme hear you, pretty girl.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, hold tight onto him to move up and down his length. It’s the first time since you ended up in Negan’s clutches that you try to reach the peak. The coil in your belly tightens, and you can’t help but cry out his name to urge him on, to beg Daryl to let you cum.

“Cum for me,” your arms wrap a little tighter around his neck to hold him closer to your body. “Baby.”

“Fuck me harder, please.”

“No,” he breathes heavily against you. “I will not hurt you as he did.” You cry against him when your high hits you. You’re trembling in his arms, pussy clenching tightly around his twitching length. “So beautiful and strong.”

“Stop flirting and cum, Dixon,” trapping his lower lip between your teeth you tug harshly. “Fill me up like a man.”

He smirks, hips jerking uncontrollably now. “Yes, ma’am. Dixon at your service…”

“The scars…” he runs his hands over your back, caresses every scar with his fingertips.

“I told you he liked to mark me,” you don’t lift your head to meet Daryl’s gaze, afraid he hates your marred body. “Every time I tried to fight back he added a new one or more.”

“One day, I will kill him. Not only for you and me. For Glenn, for Abraham and for all the other lives he took,” Daryl kisses your hair softly. “For now, we will make sure you are safe. So—stick around.”

“I have nightmares,” swallowing thickly you try to warn Daryl and to tell him to not spend the night with you. “You should go now.”

“Y/N, I’m not afraid of nightmares. If you want to get rid of me, you are dead wrong,” you relax in his arms, allow him to hold you for a while or for the rest of your life.

>> Part 2

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#Survival of the fittest - Kinktober 11 #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #twd fanfiction #smut #enemies to lovers

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Text

Howl TWD AU. Daryl Dixon x OFC 3/15 +18.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve so I'm not sure if there will be a lot of people around....

So I'm moving up the posting day!

I hope you like it! As always sorry for my english, it isn’t my first language!

Howl

Daryl Dixon x OFC. Warnings(For the all series); AU. M, Smut, +18, hurt/comfrot, blood, ABO references, Knot thing, a lot of references about werewolves mixed with my own imagination. Warnings chapter: Violence. Bad language. Clumsiness. Blood. Attempted murder. Outside Narrator. Words: 5110. N/A: Yes, I know, I use Woodbury a lot in my stories, but Seasons 2 and 3 are my favorites and they can’t live in a prison…. Woodbury is the closest thing… and yes, Rick and Michonne are together because I love them and I miss them a lot, sorry if someone is unhappy about this. N/A: The story will be published every Friday. Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @pncnsc @purple-serenity @twdeadfanfic

Part 3.

Several weeks have passed since Ixeia's incident in the forest. At last, the whole group has discovered what the young woman really is. The day after she went to Carol's house, the young woman woke up much better and transformed into a wolf as her instinct had asked her to, however, when she had been in the backyard watching Carol for a while she transformed back into a human just as Andrea went out into the back garden to greet her neighbor. It was a shock, the couple, Shane and Andrea, had an understandable panic attack, tried to attack the young she-wolf and she fled inside the house protecting herself behind Ezekiel's body.

After a long explanation, a meeting with Rick and Michonne plus Carol and Ezekiel, they explained what had happened to the young girl, their idea to help her recover, maybe try to talk her into explaining what had happened to her and then let her go if she didn't want to stay in Woodbury, however, she didn't seem very willing to cooperate.

Maggie and Beth also heard about what had happened to Ixeia, Hershel told them about the young woman and Beth's friends, Henry and the others, confirmed the rumor. The girls were excited, even young Greene had volunteered to help her learn to get along with the townspeople. So after high school, they would all attend the Greene farm for Beth to help young Ixeia try to communicate with them.

At first it was complicated. The she-wolf wasn't helping with the task, she was easily distracted, every time an animal on the farm moved she would raise her head and growl in response. They had to run after her on a couple of occasions she got after Beth and Maggie's mother's chickens, but eventually human curiosity began to take over her wolfish instincts and with each passing day she became more focused. The first time she heard her own voice she was so startled that she transformed and barked looking for where that sound had come from, making the rest of the teenagers laugh. Gradually she began to string sentences together and speak for herself, asking questions about concepts she didn't understand, picking up human customs, both at the Greene farm and with Carol and Ezekiel.

After several weeks of teaching, she could relate almost like a normal person, and in return for their patience and help, Ixeia spent some nights at the Greene's farm, taking care of their animals, shooing away foxes that wanted to eat their chickens and hunting some wild boar in the early morning that had dared to enter the farm to eat the acorns from Hershel's fields. Finding a hunted animal on their doorstep in the early morning had become almost a ritual for them. Carol was proud of her young she-wolf, but sometimes she had to scold her and remind her that she wasn’t just a she-wolf now and that she had to behave herself.

At the time Daryl didn't show up at Carol's house when the young woman was around, he was surprised when her best friend enthusiastically told him about the progress they were making with her. Daryl had quite a bit of work to do in the woods these days, so Carol was the one who would show up to tell him the news. Not that the hunter was interested, but the woman liked to brag about Ixeia just the same.

"Ixeia?" Daryl asked one day when he heard her call her that.

"Lydia found it online, and she's been reacting every time we call her that, so we assume it's a word she knows."

"Ain’t tell ya anythin’?" He asks in a whisper and sees Carol shrug.

"We haven't really asked her anything yet... She's adjusting to the city very well, people are curious, we've said she's a distant cousin of Lydia's and people seem quite fond of her."

"No." Daryl said with a frown. "Tha wasn't the deal." He growled.

"What does it matter? She's harmless, we proved it to you, she wants to stay here."

"Ya dunno that."

"Well, she hasn't tried to run away either, besides she doesn't bother you, that's what you were worried about, isn't it? I haven't seen her come into the woods once." Carol commented and Daryl had to bite his tongue.

It's true that in all the time the young woman has stayed in town, she hasn't come back by the cabin, not alone at least. When Hershel shows up with new meds or supplies for the clinic, she goes with him. Daryl has found over the days that she stands well on her legs now, she walks awkwardly at times, but she has gotten used to it, all that tangle of hair is gone giving her a more human look, but he knows what she is. He still has the image of the young girl trying to transform in front of them, making his hair stand on end.

In front of him she is still acting strange, Hershel has noticed it. When she is around Daryl, the young woman becomes more submissive, she always averts her gaze, lowers her head and sometimes reverts to her animal posture, as she does when she is at Carol's house, as it is a posture that is more natural to her. But she has never spoken to Daryl, it seems that she is embarrassed or doesn’t feel able to do, which surprises the vet since when she is with the rest she is talkative, it’s hard for her to express herself, but she tries whenever she can.

That day they are all in Carol's garden celebrating Henry's birthday, they have managed to convince Daryl to come down from the cabin as well and have some fun. Everyone knows the atmosphere gets awkward as the man can't stand to be around the she-wolf for too long, but it's a special occasion and Daryl makes the effort for his best friend. The atmosphere is pleasant, he has to accept it, everyone seems to move naturally with Ixeia being there with them. The young girl is more at ease with Carl, Henry and the other youngsters, she even has fun chasing and playing with Judith who loves to cuddle and sleep on Ixeia's warm furry body when she transforms into a wolf because she is tired and can't control her human form.

Things get a little out of hand for the young she-wolf. She's had some of the alcohol the teenagers in the group have given her to try and she's nervous, amused and her mind is slightly foggy. It's funny see her slurring her words, but all the same Rick shoots a long look at his son who apologizes in a whisper.

"Maybe you should go to bed." Shane speaks earning a look from the she-wolf who purrs and rests her head on his shoulder. "Wow, hey we've already talked about this, not in front of Andrea."

"I don't care as long as you invite me." Jokes the blonde woman and they all laugh at this.

"It's funny because she has learned to socialize with all of us very quickly, but inside she still operates a very well established hierarchy." Hershel speaks and Ezekiel nods with some excitement.

"I've noticed that too. She treats us differently depending on who she's with. Carol is a mother to her, she's always around in case she needs help and she's tremendously affectionate, with the boys she plays and occasionally she puts them in their place, scolds them."

"Like a big sister, or a nanny." Michonne guesses and Ezekiel nods.

"Hershel is the wise one in the family and treats you with care and respect."

"I'm the oldest too." He jokes and they all laugh again. "But I've seen her try to copy my daughters, be more feminine, walk, dress, she's still a young female, her physical appearance is close to her thirties, she isn’t a little girl, and is probably looking for her own pack. She has respect for Rick and Daryl, I think she sees them as the leaders males of their own packs, of their families and at first Shane was a sexual interest to her." He comments again, Daryl tenses at hearing himself named and growls low, he's nobody, he just knew how to set boundaries from day one and Ixeia doesn't dare get too close. Shane laughs and Andrea punches him in the arm.

"Stop puffing up his pride, Hershel, then I'm the one who has to deal with his nonsense."

"Are you jealous?"

"Of course not, she doesn't have to live with you, if she did I'm sure her interest would disappear." Again laughter comes into the conversation and Ixeia groans lowly as Daryl rises from his chair, catches their attention and lowers his head, again in that submissive attitude that so surprises them. "It does seem like Daryl has a special effect on her."

"What a load of bullshit." Ranger growls. "’M leavin’, it's late and I have things to do." He walks over to Carol and she greets him with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank ya for invite me."

"Thanks for coming." She smiles and sees that her friend is more uncomfortable than she expected, she regrets a bit about forcing him to go to Henry's party, it's clear that he's the one who still doesn't understand how everyone has accepted the existence of the werewolf woman so well.

"Da... Daryl..." The hunter tenses as he hears her call out to him, turns his head towards the young woman sitting on the ground, his hand clenches on the garden grass and his gesture seems anxious for something. Daryl frowns ready to leave.

He takes no more than two steps when Ixeia rises from the ground and walks hurriedly to him. Her hands become entangled in the hunter's and everyone watches the scene in slow motion. The young woman hugs Daryl's arm and he reflexively jerks away from her. His free hand tightens on the she-wolf's neck like a pincer and with one swift, dominant movement he pulls her to the ground, the earth sinking beneath her body as the air is cut off in her lungs. Carol whimpers in fright and Rick quickly rises from his chair to grab his friend and pull him away from the she-wolf.

"Dunno ya ever touch me again!" yells the archer, letting go of Rick, he walks away putting on his helmet and gets on the bike to ride back to his cabin.

His body trembles as he gets off the bike and finds calm behind the doors of his house. He sits on the couch in his small living room and runs his hands over his face, pushing his hair back. His head aches, the scar pulses on his face, his heart beats violently and every nerve twitches under his skin uncontrollably. He can feel it, he can feel the heat that the touch of the woman's hands on his skin has caused, he can still hear the demand and pleading in her voice as she calls his name. He lets out a curse between his teeth and his eyes flash with danger.

He had forgotten how it felt, so much time had passed that his body had forgotten the feeling of need enveloping him. Until that moment.

After the incident at Carol's house, Daryl spends a few days cooped up at work and in his cabin. Hunting season has brought poachers who intend to hunt more than allowed to sell their meat and pelts without the proper permits and Daryl takes it upon himself to hunt them down and bring them to Rick for justice. He charms a couple of vans loaded with half rotting meat and skins that are starting to crack because they aren’t well treated. It's disgusting and gross, but they keep Daryl's head elsewhere and he avoids thinking about what's really bothering him.

He's loading the van into the tow truck he's taken from the town police station to haul the evidence down to the station. He is adjusting the car when a gunshot cuts through the air. Daryl screams in pain as the bullet pierces his arm, he leans back against the body of the van to avoid another shot while holding his arm seeing his hand filling with blood. He lifts his head to see where the shot is coming from and discovers one of the hunters running towards his position, is his intention to kill the ranger and take the van? Daryl can't help but smile in amusement, what some people will can do for a handful of bills?

Well, Daryl isn't going down unless it's in a fight.

Nevertheless, he hears a surprised scream and a gunshot in the distance. He raises his head again and freezes as he discovers the she-wolf on top of the hunter. Her teeth clenching the poacher's arm, her whole body blocking him against the ground, the gun has gone off, but the bullet is lost in the air. He feels anger overpowering him for a moment, but he acts quickly. Daryl runs up to her to pin the guy to the ground and puts a leg over his back to immobilize him.

"Let him go." He says to the she-wolf, she looks sideways at him, but her teeth are still clenched in the man's arm and he cries out in pain. "I said, let him go!" Daryl roars and his eyes flash for an instant. The animal whimpers low and lets go of the man lying on the ground. Daryl snaps in frustration, he clamps the man's wrists behind his back and cuffs him with a bridle he has in his pants, he hears him protest again as he lifts him off the ground, but he doesn't care, he's shot him, so he isn’t going to be nice.

He gets him into the van and makes sure he can't run off to hide in the woods again. He rounds the vehicle to finish loading it onto the tow truck and when he has it ready, he peeks out seeing that the wolf woman is still lying on the road, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He rolls his eyes and bites his lower lip. All he disgusts her and she keeps getting closer, trying to please him, which gets Daryl even more nervous.

"Go home, Carol will be worried." He tells her and sees her wiggle her ears in his direction, he snorts and ignores her by climbing into the tow truck, he hasn't closed the door yet and she jumps inside, sitting in the passenger seat. "Fuck! Why ain't ya just fuckin’ listen to me once?" He yells at her, but she's abstractedly staring out the window. Again the Ranger needs to summon his patience. He sighs and starts the trailer heading back to the station to take care of that scum and do a bunch of paperwork.

Arriving at the station Rick along with Shane take care of the hunter and the van the Ranger brings. Daryl slowly gets off the tow truck and touches his arm, he feels some discomfort, but hopefully it only grazed him and he doesn't need more than to heal the scratch.

"Need yer first aid kit." He asks Andrea and she sees the blood on his shirt.

"Oh God, what happened? Do you need help?"

"Nah, just some alcohol to clean the wound and some clothes..." He shrugs downplaying it, the blonde doesn't look too sure but brings him what he's asked for from the first aid kit and Daryl walks to the bathroom to tend to his own wound.

He leaves the bottle of alcohol and the clothes on the sink and takes off his tie and uniform shirt, carefully putting them aside, he is wearing a black tank top that allows him to see the wound, no doubt the bullet has gone through the flesh, but it is no longer inside, which saves him a lot of trouble. The hole isn’t very big and the bleeding has stopped. He lifts his head like a spring when he hears the bathroom door open. He frowns when he discovers Ixeia appearing there, watching him silently, covered with a police jacket and some clothes that he has probably borrowed from Andrea.

"What yer doin’ here?" growls Daryl turning to face her. "Told ya go home."

"You're hurt..." She mutters in an awkward voice, barely a whisper, but the skin on the back of Daryl's neck goes goosebumps.

"That ain’t yer problem..." He mumbles and draws in a shaky breath watching her approach him.

He growls low, her hand caresses his arm and he follows her movements with his gaze as she leans in and the tip of her tongue licks the blood from his wound. Daryl gasps and his fingers close like a shackle between the strands of hair. Ixeia moans low and looks at him from the corner of her eye.

"Don't play with fire..." He threatens her and shoves her away from him. "Go back to Carol, back to Hershel's farm, back to the fuckin’ woods, I ain’t care, but never come near me again." He orders her and again his whole body is on edge, the mere touch of the young woman, she throws him out of control. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye again and lowering her head leaves the bathroom, without saying anything.

Daryl heals his shoulder and leaves the bathroom once he manages to stabilize his own pulse to meet Rick who has finished putting all the papers in order. Those men are going to spend a few days in jail and a good few days in financial debt.

"Are you all right? I heard from Andrea that you showed up bleeding." Rick asks him with a concerned tone. Daryl shakes his head, downplaying it.

"That asshole shot me when I was loadin’ the van, but he only grazed me, it wasn't important." He informs him and sees Rick's gesture relax a little. "Yer friend followed me, ya should put a chain on her or somethin’." He mutters low. "I dunno need her around."

"Ixeia? Sorry, Carol says she's been a bit jumpy for a few days." He explains and the hunter shrugs biting his lip.

"Ain’t fuckin’ care, just put her on a fuckin’ leash." He growls again. "Silver, I'm sure that'll keep her still." He jokes but gets a serious look from Rick, sets the bottle of booze down on the table and sighs. "I’m gonna back to the cabin. If I find any more of these pricks, I'll send them yer way." He informs and before Rick says anything else, he leaves the police station taking his bike that he had previously left there to go get the van with the tow truck.

When he gets home he takes off his hiking boots and lays down on the couch in his small living room covering his face with his left arm. He can feel the skin burning around the wound, where she has licked his blood, he can feel the wound slowly closing up, staying inside nothing as if he had never been shot. He sighs at length touching the left side of his face. Few wounds have left a mark on his skin for as long as he can remember, almost all of them caused in a fight, either at home or at a family gathering, the rest have healed and disappeared from his skin over the years. He can't complain, it's one of the advantages he has, although sometimes he has had to lie when someone has seen that he has healed too quickly. He remembers the last time he faced a black bear, after the hibernation season the animal had come too far down the mountain to look for food and Daryl had to take it by force. Rick witnessed the bear tear his shirt and skin with a claw. He had to wear his torso bandaged for days and didn't let anyone take care of his wounds, not even Carol.

Because there was nothing to take care of.

He's lost count of the number of times he's had to chase the she-wolf out of her hut. It isn’t as if he finds her in there every day, but he does find her in the vicinity. Sometimes when dawn breaks he sees her sitting in front of the cabin door, sometimes she lurks nearby when he's getting ready to leave, even in the woods he's spotted her fur among the trees when he was working. At first he decided to ignore her, then he yelled at her several times to get out and finally he ended up shooting several arrows at her, not really meaning to hit her, but the young lady got the message and stopped seeing him so often around. Even with those he always finds her when he is at Carol's house or goes to visit Hershel at his farm. The young woman has become another worker for Hershel, helping him with the animals, moving machinery without too much trouble and being able to haul the alpacas of straw to be stored in the barns and spread out in the stalls for the animals. Maggie takes her to the Hershel clinic when they need to transport any large or nervous animal, they have noticed that with her presence some animals feel more comfortable and Otis, a worker and friend of the Greene family, is teaching her to hunt and shoo animals, although she was already taking care of it.

He's in the office finishing up the last few permits he has to send out that morning before going for a walk in the woods when he hears the door open. He raises his head to greet the newcomer and his brow furrows.

"Hershel... he couldn't come." The she-wolf explains in a hesitant voice, glances sideways at Daryl as she holds two huge plastic crates of material for the ranger. "One of his cows has gone into labor and... she's having complications... he asked me to bring these up to you..." She explains tightening her grip on the crates.

"Hershel needs help? Can come down and give him a hand." Daryl says, but she shakes her head.

"Maggie's helping him, and Otis."

"Well, leave that at the clinic, I'll take care of placin’ it later."

"I can place it, I know where things go..." Ixeya offers and the Ranger hesitates, but shrugs and nods letting her enter the office completely and head towards the consultation room. As she passes him she stops to look at Daryl. "How's your wound?"

"Fine, ya know that. There was never a wound to worry about." He mutters looking sideways at her, she nods and continues on her way to deal with the boxes.

Daryl continues with his paperwork, his ears keep picking up the movement the she-wolf is making in the office, he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, but his own instinct is forcing him to turn around, get up from his chair and peek out the door of the clinic to make sure everything is okay. The young woman ignores his presence, Daryl can't say for sure if on purpose or not she has noticed he is there. Be that as it may, she is struggling to reach some medication that may have been too far out of her reach and she isn’t tall enough to get hold of it. Daryl leans against the door frame watching her silently. From the first moment she showed up there he has avoided having any kind of contact with her, he still can't quite believe what he saw that night, what she is, even though everyone else seems pretty calm and comfortable with her, Daryl still feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up in her presence. He isnt an idiot, he knows it's due to many other things, he isn’t afraid of her, or repulsed by her, he just doesn't want her essence to permeate him.

That could be dangerous for him and for her.

He looks up when he hears a groan, Ixeia has climbed on the counter to reach the medicines she can't reach and the young woman's balance isn't very good. She is about to slip and fall, but Daryl is quicker and catches her, he hugs her waist carefully, her back against his chest, she is breathing agitated from the fright and he is totally on his limit, barely breathing slowly and his jaw is clenched. The scent of the young woman begins to flood Dixon's nose and his body jerks violently.

Trying to keep his mind cool he propels himself backwards and makes the young woman step off the counter, then releases her and walks away again, he feels the skin that has brushed his own burning.

"What were ya supposed ya doin’?"

"I'm sorry... I was trying to get to the bottom, Hershel... he gave me a list for medications nearing expiration..."

"Ya could have asked me for help." He replies looking sideways at her.

"I didn't want to bother you..."

"Ya bothered me anyway and ya could have cracked yer head open in the process." He snaps angrily and she lowers her head.

"I'm sorry... but you know that... it wouldn't kill me..."

"I know, but ya'd worry a lot of people and I ain’t gonna put up with havin’ Carol in here yellin’ me about what a stupid and irresponsible idiot I've been or some shit like that." He grunts shaking his head and watches as she bites her lip, hesitating.

"You really care about Carol..." She mutters without daring to raise her head and Daryl tenses his jaw.

"Yes, she's important to me, but that doesn't mean she doesn't occasionally go crazy and be unbearable..." He sighs rolling his eyes and she smiles amused.

"Carol too... she cares a lot about you too..." She gives him a sidelong glance and Daryl shrugs, not quite sure what she expects him to say. He sighs and picks up the box ready to leave. "I'm sorry to have bothered you." She says goodbye and Daryl bites his lip.

"Wait." He stops her and she turns to look at him, feeling her cheeks burn. The hunter reaches out taking what she couldn't reach and puts it over holding out a box of medicine to her. The she-wolf nods and takes it carefully. "If Hershel finds it, we'll both be in trouble."

"Thanks, bye Daryl." She waves goodbye walking out of the cabin, leaving the man wrapped in her scent.

He grunts low hitting the metal surface of the gurney with both hands. He feels his chest heaving once again. He grits his teeth and his insides churn violently, again that years forgotten feeling takes over his consciousness for a second, just a millisecond, but it is enough to give him a headache and an unpleasant taste of blood in his mouth. He hisses and walks out of the clinic to refocus on his work. The mark of his fingernails imprinted on the hard metal surface of the gurney.

That night he can’t sleep. He finds himself sitting on the couch in his cabin. He feels his skin throbbing, he moves his legs nervously, he can't stop biting his lip as his mind races. His hands clench and squeeze, trying to release some of the tension that invades his whole body, but he cannot. His gaze is directed towards the window of his living room. There is no moon, the night is dark and silent, as if it were a dead place.

He snorts and gets up from the couch, takes off his boots as he slowly sheds his clothes. He needs to rest.

Ixeia has stayed that night at the Greene family home, after dinner with Carol and her family, she has asked the grey haired woman for permission to make a little round of the village and the surrounding farms. Carol has smiled gratefully at the young she-wolf's concern and asked her to be careful of what she might find. However, that is exactly what Ixeia is looking for. The night is dark, the lack of moon can help many animals, and unwanted beings, to wander through the darkness of the streets and forest, try to harm the townspeople. She knows that Daryl has protected them all that time from all those things, but now she is there too, she can help the hunter, ease his burden a little. Even if he doesn't want her around. She's learned to respect his space, at least as much as her own instincts allow. She knows she made a mistake at Henry's birthday party and in the police station bathroom, that Daryl has set totally marked boundaries for her, but still her instinct towards him is too strong.

She leaves one of the stables after checking that the animals are resting and don't feel threatened by anything. The night is so still and quiet that she herself can hear her own footsteps breaking the soft grass under her own weight. Perhaps there is nothing to watch out for, perhaps her instinct has played a trick on her, but something tells her that she must be careful.

She stops abruptly when she smells it. The hair on her back bristles and her eyes take on a golden color, she growls low and the cows in their corrals fret at her menacing tone. He is far away, but at the edge of the farm, she can feel him. She curves the line of her back to become larger, more intimidating and directs her gaze towards her target.

It doesn't take long to spot him, there, sitting among the trees, hidden, his various colored eyes glowing like hers. He knows she has seen him, but he doesn't move, just stands there, his eyes shining on her. He has gone out on patrol too, to guard, to protect his people. Her body returns to a relaxed posture, calls him with a low bark, not wanting to wake the animals or alert the Greene family, but he doesn't move from his hiding place. She whines low and lies on the ground, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Then he stands up and Ixeia feels her heart stop with disappointment as she sees him turn around, disappearing into the forest with a distinct limp on his hind legs.

To be Continued...

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll see you in the next one!

Previous chapter. Next chapter.

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sophielovesbooks · 3 years

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Mid Year Book Freakout Tag!

I’m a bit late to this party… but I wrote this a few days ago when I wasn’t feeling 100% after getting my second Covid vaccine and took the entire day off. So I finally had the time to write this :)

Let me pull up my Goodreads real quick and have a look at the 33 books I have so far this year.

1. The Best Book of the Year So Far

Hmm, let’s see. I feel like it’s fair to give two answers to this one, because on the one hand, there is the book that qualifies as “the best” from a literary perspective (at least in my opinion) and that would be CONVERSATIONS WITH FRIENDS by Sally Rooney. Definitely had its own style and felt… infused with a deeper meaning, at least to me. It was also very compelling. Personally, I couldn’t stop reading it. And I feel like it had a lot to say about modern-day relationships (romantic, platonic… all kinds really).

Then, there is the book that I personally enjoyed this most, and that was probably THE GIRLS ARE ALL SO NICE HERE by Laurie Elisabeth Flynn. It kind of felt like your standard thriller, but also not. While it was super suspenseful and fun to read, I also genuinely cared about the characters and loved the portrayal of toxic teen girls’ friendships and generally teenage cruelty in the context of wanting to be cool/to fit in. It made me reflect on a lot of things, so to me, it’s definitely more than a thriller that you forget right after reading it. And it also definitely qualifies as dark academia, and discovering a new DA book I love is always great! <3

2. Best Sequel of the Year So Far

Wow, I am NOT big on sequels. I have only read one this year, which is just further proof that I’m not very into book series and much prefer standalones. The only sequel I have read this year was also a very good one, though: MISTER IMPOSSIBLE by Maggie Stiefvater. Much anticipated by me and thankfully, I had a great time with it. :)

3. A New Release You Haven’t Read Yet But Want To

I’m going to go with MALIBU RISING by Taylor Jenkins Read! I was gifted this book by my boyfriend’s grandma for my birthday on June 29 (so sweet!) and I think I will read it next. I am very excited for this one!

4. Most Anticipated Release for Autumn/Winter

Two books I am VERY excited for are A LESSON IN VENGEANCE by Victoria Lee and IN MY DREAMS I HOLD A KNIFE by Ashley Winstead. I’m not even really sure why. I don’t know that much about either of them yet. But they just call to me, just like The Girls Are All So Nice Here did. And that one didn’t disappoint, so hopefully these two won’t either.

5. Your Biggest Disappointment of the Year So Far

Maybe THE GUEST LIST by Lucy Foley? I mean, it wasn’t awful. But I remember that I wasn’t impressed and had been expecting more somehow. Objectively the worst book I read this year would have to be THE SHARP EDGE OF A SNOWFLAKE by Sif Sigmarsdóttir, lol. But that one doesn’t count as the biggest disappointment, because I didn’t go in expecting that much. It was just an ebook that I bought for a low price at one point.

6. Your Biggest Surprise of the Year So Far

Definitely THE GIRLS I’VE BEEN by Tess Sharpe. I did not expect a YA thriller to be as intense and emotional and fun and just plain well-written as it was! Biggest positive surprise of the year so far, I think. :) I felt similarly surprised by A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER by Holly Jackson. Another YA thriller (or mystery, I guess?) that was so much better than I had expected!

7. New Favourite Author

I’m going to have to say THE MOTHER by Tess Stimson. I was expecting it to be a semi-fun thriller without much depth to it, just easy entertainment, I suppose. I was extremely surprised by the emotional depth I encountered. The death at the heart of this story is that of an infant, but I was expecting the book to sort of gloss over how tragic that actually is. Instead, it leaned into the grief so much, I found myself absolutely shook? The book almost moved me to tears several times. The mystery was so intense, I kept guessing and guessing. At one point quite early on, I had the solution, but the author masterfully misdirected me from that again, so that the twist at the end came as the biggest shock! Yeah, I loved this so much more than I had ever expected! Well done, Tess Stimson!

8. Your Newest Favourite Character

I haven’t absolutely fallen in love with any new characters this year, but three that stand out to me (in the order I encountered them this year) are:

1) Pippa Fitz-Amobi from A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER by Holly Jackson

2) Katrina Hawkins from THE STARLESS SEA by Erin Morgenstern

3) Nora O’Malley from THE GIRLS I’VE BEEN by Tess Sharpe

9. Your Newest Fictional Crush

Umm… absolutely nothing comes to mind lmfao. Fictional crushes have become so rare for me!

10. A Book that Has Made You Cry

THE MOTHER almost made me cry, I think. Not sure if there were actual tears. CONVERSATIONS WITH FRIENDS and NORMAL PEOPLE both (almost) moved me to tears several times. But I didn’t have any break-downs over books this year. At least not yet.

EDIT: Omg, omg, omg, I forgot A LITTLE LIFE! How the f did I forget about A LITTLE LIFE?! I broke down over this book several times. It was awful. Never before has a book made me suffer so much. I mean that. I didn’t just cry, the book also made me feel physically ill several times. Very well written, yes, but not one I can recommend in good conscience. This is not one of those instances of “You’ll cry, but you’ll love crying”, at least not for me. This is something I perhaps should have not put myself through. Because the experience overall was painful, first and foremost. Stay safe, kids. This one is… a lot.

11. A Book That Has Made You Happy

This is so sad to say, but none of the books I read this year gave me that warm, glowy feeling of pure comfort and happiness you get from books sometimes? Some passages of THE STARLESS SEA came the closest, I would say.

12. The Most Beautiful Book of the Year So Far

Again, I need to mention THE STARLESS SEA with the beautiful prose and imagery! <3 Also A LITTLE LIFE maybe? Beautifully written at times. Absolutely heart- and gut-wrenching at others.

13. Some Books You Need to Read Before 2021 Ends

Hahaha… so many. But I’ll pick out a few that I will likely finish until the year is over: MALIBU RISING, AN OCEAN OF MINUTES by Thea Lim (birthday present by a close friend! <3), THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS by Micah Nemerever (birthday present my dad gave me! <3) and THEY NEVER LEARN by Layne Fargo (bday present my godmother gave me! <3). You see, I am much more committed to reading books that were given to me rather than books I bought myself. So these have good chances of being finished in 2021. :)

14. Tag Two of Your Favourite Community Members

@books-and-cookies Have you answered these questions yet? And @augustinianseptember? Would REALLY love to read both of your answers! <3<3

#mid year freak out #mid year book freak out tag #reading #books #booklr #conversations with friends #the girls are all so nice here #mister impossible #malibu rising #the mother #a good girl's guide to murder #the starless sea #the girls i've been #a little life #and many others...

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thestarrynightslover · 3 years

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The One He Got Right

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,700

Warnings: None. Just a crazy amount of fluff.

Summary: Jay and (y/n) have been dating for several months now, so, when his birthday comes up, the reader wants to throw him a surprise party.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Fluffy happy jay is my religion, that's all I'm gonna say. Also, I feel like the One Chicago universe could have a lot of surprise parties, so, if they won't give it to us, let's just indulge ourselves, right?

As always, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“You know, babe, I was hoping you’d be able to get the Thursday off so that we could go out and have some fun, or just stay in and cuddle. You can choose.” Jay said whilst caressing your feet in his lap.

“While that does sound good, I’m not sure I can convince my boss to give me the time off on such short notice, Jay.” You confessed with a tired sigh. “But what’s so special about Thursday for Voight to give you a day off anyway? You didn’t mention any big cases lately…” You asked your boyfriend, not missing how he started to uncomfortably shift his position on the couch.

“Uh, he said I should take the day to myself because it’s my birthday. That’s why I was hoping-”

“What???” You asked him, sitting up straight, already buzzing with excitement. “It’s your birthday in four days and you didn’t tell me???” Jay just looked at you like you were crazy.

“Well, I’m telling you now. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal. I just figured that since I’m getting a rare day off, I’d spend it with the person I love…” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew what game he was playing. And, honestly, you didn’t really care, because you’d always loved birthdays and holidays in general. So, if you had a chance at being with Jay throughout his, you’d take it.

“Not that big of a deal? Who are you? The Grinch? Of course, it’s a big deal, babe!” Your excitement was almost tangible. “So, tell me, what is it you want us to do, hum? Is there gonna be a party? Wait a second, have you been party-planning without me this whole time?” Your boyfriend couldn’t understand how went from too grinny to too offended in two seconds like that.

“What? Party? No! No! Not at all, baby! I really just thought we could spend some quality time together, you know, without the possibility of me getting called in at any minute…" He told you and, all of the sudden, he looked exhausted, making you feel stupid for bombarding him with your craziness like that.

"Oh, okay… Look, I'm sorry I freaked out, babe. It's just that you're such an amazing boyfriend – and everything else, really –, so, when you said it's your birthday… Let me do something?" You asked, with what you considered to be your sweetest smile. At that, Jay started chuckling lightly.

"Well, I could let you do something, but your company is already gonna be much more than just something. And that's all I could possibly want from you, princess." How could you even try to resist that man?

"Okay. Then, uh, I'll get the day off, no matter what, but… I'm still doing something!" You said with a wicked smile.

"Oh, God. Fine, just don't exaggerate, okay?" Hearing that, you gave him a look.

"Right, right. Note to self: don't exaggerate." At that point, Jay decided to just give in, which was the best he could do, since your plan was already shaping up in your head. It was going to be a long four days…

The next morning, after leaving Jay’s place, you started calling people while walking to work. The first on your list was Herrmann because there was no party without a venue. And what better venue for your boyfriend’s birthday celebration than the very place where he liked to spend so much time?

“Hi, (y/n/n)! How you doing?” Christopher asked with his usual excited voice.

“Hey, Chirs! I’m great, how are you? And how are Cindy and the kids?” First things first: to convince the petty man to let you use his bar like that, you were gonna need to be your most charming self.

“Ah, we’re all good too, thanks for asking, kid! Listen, uh, how’s everything between you and Halstead? He hasn’t shown up at Molly’s in a while…” Normally that would have gotten you worried, but this time you knew that it was because of the demanding case his unit had closed last week and then because of how he was trying to spend most of his crazy free hours with you.

“Everything’s fine, really. The thing is that he’d been a little too busy with Intelligence’s latest case and then he was a bit tired in his free time, so we’d just spend the nights in… But thank you for the concern, Chris!” By that point of your relationship with Jay, you’d met pretty much everyone who hung out at the first responders’ bar (at least everyone who was friends with your boyfriend), and it was fair to say that they all had a lot of appreciation for you. Herrmann, for example, was always trying to look after you. Treating you like a daughter. And, as sweet as that was, you were about to use it to get him to give up Molly’s for the party. “So, um, you mentioned that we haven’t been to Molly’s much lately… How’s the business going?”

“Ah, (y/n/n), look at you! Always worrying about other people! The business is going well! But you know how these things are… Could always be better.” He told you, in that very Herrmann way, always thinking ahead and making growth plans.

“Yeah… Well, you know, Jay always tells me about how much he loves it there… How much that place and the people in it, especially you, mean to him…” You threw your bait. It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. You knew how much all of that meant to Jay, he never even had to tell you about it.

“Really?” You could practically hear Herrmann’s grin through the phone. “I hope he knows that we all at 51, hell, at Molly’s, see him as family too! He’s such a good kid... ” Perfect. It was now or never.

“Speaking of him knowing how much he means to us, as you know that his birthday is coming up on Thursday, I was-”

“What??? His birthday? I, I, I, ah, I didn’t know that…” Another perfect strike for you.

“Well, then I guess that makes it a bit weird for me to ask you what I was about to…” God, it was moments like this that made you think that you could've been an actress.

“No! What?! Not at all, what was it?”

“I was wondering if you could give Molly’s up for a surprise party I wanna throw for him...” You said, ripping the band-aid off, with your fingers crossed that the guilt-trip you tried to put him on would work its magic.

“Oh!” If only you could see him now! Split between wanting to show Jay how much he cared and the projections of how much he’d lose giving Molly’s up like that. “You know what? To the hell with it! Jay was one of our first regular customers and got us rid of that scumbag Arthur, so yeah! We’re doing that for him!” You wanted to scream at how perfectly your plan had worked out, but you stopped yourself as Herrmann said (for no one’s surprise): “But I’m not giving any free drinks to anyone!”

“Okay, okay, Chris.” You said laughing. “What you’re doing is enough help already! Thank you so much!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it! Just wish everyone would appreciate my gestures as much as you do, instead of complaining that I should be doing more…” At that point, you were laughing your ass off, as you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

“Okay, then I’ll let you know when and who’s gonna need the keys to set up the decoration and stuff.” You said whilst brushing the tears away from your eyes.

“Alright, (y/n/n), I gotta go now, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye.” One down, some more to go.

And that's how you spent your morning: completely ignoring your work, in between calls to put Jay's surprise party in motion. You put Stella, Severide, and whoever else wanted to help them in charge of the drinks. Sylvie and Chloe were on the cake. Adam and Kevin were taking care of the food, duly supervised by Kim and Hailey, as you knew they couldn't be trusted to not eat anything before the time. You let Maggie and Ethan in charge of the decoration, along with any more help they could get at Med. And Will and Platt were going to contact Jay's other friends. You were on the tricky assignment of keeping your boyfriend in the dark about all of that until it was Thursday night. While, also, overseeing everyone's work, because, well, you were the organizer!

To say that there were many bumps along the short period of time you had until the party was stating the obvious. Several times during those three days you got calls from Will, panicking over the fact that, every time he saw his brother, he felt an urge to scream 'Surprise!!!'. Seriously, after this party, Jay Halstead just couldn't let you out of his life, because the amount of energy it took to keep yourself from murdering his older brother... It was a clear show of love.

Still, everything went well and there were no murders. The Thursday morning came as quickly as you knew it would and, thankfully, everyone had their parts of the plan pretty much done. Which meant it was your time to shine: operation keep-the-detective-from-detecting had begun!

“So, today’s the day. Are you gonna tell me what is it that we’re doing?” Jay asked you with a soft smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course, detective. But only after we get you a proper birthday breakfast!” You told Jay while pulling him out of the apartment to go to this diner you knew he loved. When you got there, the orders were already waiting for you at your favorite table, and, being the silly bean he is, your boyfriend got pretty impressed by it.

“But, what?! How did you get them to do this? I thought they never took orders over the phone!”

“And they never do!” You confirmed with a wink, trying to hold back the laughter. Not that you could keep it inside any longer when his eyes landed on the personalized birthday wishes written on the pancakes. As much as he liked to act like a tough guy most of the time, at that moment he couldn’t help but let out his inner excited little boy.

“Oh my God! This is amazing! It’s so cute!” He beamed brightly.

“I know, I know. Now eat your breakfast, birthday boy!” You ordered with a fake look of annoyance on your face. But instead of just digging in on the food, like you’d told him to, he leaned in from across the table to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“The day barely even started and I already know that this is gonna be one of the best birthdays of my life!” He told you, as a genuinely happy smile took over his features.

“Well, then I’m glad I can be of service.” You said, and, like that, the day passed by. You wandered, hand-in-hand, the streets of a rare sunny Chicago, had lunch by the Riverwalk, went to the movie theater, and, finally, back to his place.

“Okay, today was amazing! But, I gotta admit, I’m a bit tired… So what do you say we open a bottle of wine, order some Italian, and cuddle our way into the night, hum?” Jay asked, already sitting on the couch with his phone in hand.

“I say a big colossal no!” Hearing that, he looked at you super confused. “Because I already told Will that we were gonna meet him for a couple of beers at Molly’s.” Instead of just sighing and standing up like you thought he’d do, your boyfriend narrowed his eyes to you, in a way that showed he got suspicious of something. “What?”

“We’re gonna meet Will at Molly’s? On my birthday?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No, nothing. It’s just that, coming from you and Will on my birthday,” shit! He emphasized the birthday part again, “that doesn’t sound like just a meetup for beers at Molly’s, that’s all.” Damn it, a thousand times damn it! Why did he have to be so good? And that stupid cocky smile he had on right now was still gonna be the death of you. Before you even said anything, you knew it wasn’t gonna be very convincing, given how useless your brain seemed to be at the moment. So you could only hope that he’d turn a blind eye and just go along with it when you said:

“Well, it is just a meetup at Molly’s. And, if you must know, I only agreed to it because Will spent all day blowing up my phone with texts, saying that I stole his baby brother from him on a date that you two should always spend together.” You lied, trying to put up an annoyed façade.

“Ah, well, if that’s the case, then let’s just stay here and ignore our phones.” Jay suggested with a shrug. He knew you were lying, damn it!

“No!” You answered a bit too quickly. “We, uh, we can’t do that! Because, first of all, it would be very douchy and, second, Will would be mad at me forever, and that can’t happen if I have any hopes of ever becoming a Halstead.” You didn’t even realize what you’d just said, until after it came out, but then it was too late to go back. He glued his eyes on you immediately, while you tried to hide your blushing face with your hands. “I can’t believe that I really just said that out loud.” You sorta-whispered shyly, never uncovering your face.

“Me neither…” He confessed with a huge grin, also going to remove your hands off your face with his. “Baby, I know I don’t say this much, because, as you know, words aren’t really my strongest suit, but I love you. And I, too, have real high hopes that you’ll become a Halstead someday.” He told you, making your eyes tear up.

“I love you too, babe.” You barely let it out before he pulled you in for a warm loving kiss.

“So, you say that a lot in your head, hum?” He asked with a smug smirk on his lips.

“Shut up, let’s just go.” You grunted, trying hard not to blush again.

“Do we really have to, though? You know Will doesn’t get to decide anything between us.” Jay tried to reason with you, apparently forgetting about his suspicions.

“I know, but we’re not bailing on him like this, Jay.” At that, he gave you an annoyed pouting look but eventually gave it up and headed to the bar with you.

Before you got out of the cab, you managed to, discretely, shoot Will a quick text, to let everyone know that you’d arrived. That way, as soon as Jay opened the door, letting you in first as usual, the mini crowd of guests shouted:

“Surprise!!!!!” You couldn’t help but break up in laughter when your boyfriend almost jumped back outside after the scare. Jay Halstead, the man who was always prepared for anything, got completely caught by surprise this time.

“Oh my God, guys, what the hell?” He asked with a shocked expression that just made everyone in the bar laugh hard, as they started reaching out to hug him and say their birthday wishes.

In the midst of all that, Jay saw you smiling shyly on a corner and immediately knew who was the mastermind behind it all. That made him think of how, when you came into his life, you were like a sunshine ray that never darkened, making his hardest days easier and better. And you were even more now.

Jay Halstead had definitely made a lot of wrong, shitty, decisions throughout his life. On both personal and professional levels, they’d gotten him a lot of heartache. But dating you was for sure the one he got right.

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #one shot #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead #baby jay #will halstead #christopher herrmann #fluff #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #surprise party #jay halstead fluff

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 3*

So I gave you a LITTLE lovin' at the end, give me a break. I'm loving all the angsty comments I'm getting. Really gives me a rush relishing in your pain. MWAHAAHAHAHAHA. I'm kidding I love you all please don't leave me.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Tag List

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@chasingeverybreakingwave

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@gibbs274

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@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu @believinghurts

-------

The next morning

As soon as you dropped Kylie at daycare and Maggie at school, you headed to work. You worked as an executive at an advertising company, so it gave you a lot of freedom to work from home. Really helped the whole "single mom" thing.

But today you had to go into the office for a meeting, and you were dreading it. The one day you could really use to yourself, you had to go and be around people, pretending to be okay. This was going to be hell.

During your meeting, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. You immediately went for it, thinking maybe by some miracle Rafael had figured out a solution super fast. But to your horror, it was a text from Billy.

LUNCH?

Oh god. He knew didn't he? He knew everything. There was no way in hell he was getting you alone in your house right now. You quickly texted him back discreetly.

I'M AT THE OFFICE TODAY.

*BUZZ*

THAT'S HALFWAY TO THE CITY. COME ON, I PROMISE I'LL HAVE YOU BACK IN TIME TO PICK UP THE GIRLS.

Was he serious? He wanted you to meet him in the City? Closer to Rafael? What kind of game was he playing? Well, at least you'd be in a public place. He couldn't murder you in front of an audience. And he promised you could pick up the girls, surely he was just going to let you leave after lunch. Right? While you were thinking it over, your phone went off again.

MY TREAT

His treat? Well, that would be a first. Sure he took care of them when they were married, but since their divorce he hadn't offered up a penny more than his legally obligated alimony and child support.

"Miss Y/N, do you have somewhere better to be?" Your boss interrupted your thoughts, you noticed that the whole boardroom was staring at you.

"No sir, sorry sir," You shook your head as you typed a quick OK back to Billy before shoving your phone back into your pocket.

-------

After your meeting you headed to the restaurant address Billy texted you. You sat in your Uber running your fingers nervously through your hair and checking your makeup. Though you really weren’t sure why-- Billy wasn’t the cute harmless man you fell in love with anymore, you had to remember that. No matter how much his smile made your knees weak.

You walked into the restaurant to see Billy already at a table. He smiled and waved at you, you walked towards him and joined him.

“Hey, sweetie,” He went for a hug, but you went for the handshake.

“Hey, Billy,” You nodded as you sat down across from him. “So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” He kept that hundred watt smile focused on you, you felt yourself blush.

“Okay?” You tried to act nonchalant as you picked up a menu and browsed it.

“Yeah, you know after I found out you were with that animal, Barba,” He picked up his own menu and began to peruse it. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you in that moment because as soon as he called Barba the animal as opposed to himself, your fists clenched.

“Oh? Yeah it was no big deal…” You tried to keep your voice calm.

“So what did he say about me?”

“N-Nothing, I kicked him out as soon as I hung up on you, Billy,” You glanced up at him. You weren’t lying, you did kick him out right after you hung up. And it was the biggest mistake in the world.

“Really?” He looked genuinely surprised, but elated. “You just believed me over him, just like that?”

“Well, of course Billy,” You nodded as you put the menu down. “You’re the father of my children, I’ve known you for almost a decade. I...loved you,” You gulped as you sipped the courtesy water. You didn’t know if it was a great idea to toss that in, but you figured you needed to throw him as far off the scent as you could.

“...Loved?” Billy asked curiously.

Shit. Abort Abort.

“I mean, I’ll always care about you Billy,” You put a hand over his, giving him the sweetest smile you could manage.

“And Barba?” He gripped your hand a little tighter. “Do you love him?”

Shit. Alright, stay calm.

“I thought I might,” You nodded sadly. “Before you told me what a...monster, he is,” You hated even saying the words, but he needed to buy what you were selling.

“Oh, honey,” Billy gave you a sympathetic smile. “You know that’s what I’ve always loved about you. Always so trusting, and loyal...those are really great qualities in a woman,”

“...Thank you?” You sounded offended.

“Gosh,” He chuckled. “You know I am starting to forget why we even broke up,”

Oh God.

“B-Because you were always working, and you thought it would be unfair to keep going like we were going on the kids, and me,” You reminded him.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He half laughed. “Gosh, you know I think I...I really messed that up,”

“...What?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“I think I made a huge mistake, choosing my...work, over you and the girls,” He gave you a genuinely apologetic smile.

“Oh, Billy you--” You tried to dissuade him, but he wasn't having it.

“No, you know what Y/N having the girls this past summer, it reminded me how much they mean to me. How much you, mean to me,” He took your other hand in his so he was holding them both now.

“But you know what? No more. Screw my job, I’m choosing my family this time,” He gave you the most loving smile and look you’d ever seen on him. You were starting to be even more confused than ever.

“...R-Really?” You blinked in disbelief. “You’d just...give up, your...job, for us?”

“Yes, I would babe,” He nodded, rubbing the back of your palms with his thumbs.

Suddenly, you remembered what kind of “job” he actually had. How could you get out of this? What would make sense? Wait, a thought occurred to you.

“...No,” You removed your hands from his.

“....No?” He repeated, his tone shifting. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, I’m not going to let you back into our lives, back into the girl’s lives. Get their hopes up that we can be a happy family again, and then you just take off again when you start itching to get back to work!”

“....Itching?” His nostrils flared. “Is there a reason you used that...specific phrase, Y/N?”

“No, it’s a term, Billy. Look it up,” You were getting more brazen, knowing you had a crowd of eyes around you. He wouldn’t try anything.

“You sure that’s not a certain lawyer talking, sweetheart?” He didn’t let up.

“....How do you know him, anyway Billy?” You suddenly changed the subject.

“Excuse me?” Now it was his turn to blink in disbelief.

“You knew him, when you called me,” You reminded him.

“Well yeah babe, I know he’s a--”

“A monster,” You finished.

“Yeah, I told you--”

“But, how would you know that?” You asked again.

“What?”

“He’s a prosecutor, Billy. You’re a...whatever it is you are,” You crossed your arms. “So how, do you know him?”

“Because….” You saw the wheels turning in Billy’s head. “Because he and the NYPD set me up!”

“They set you up?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah,” He sniffed and rubbed his nose as the waitress came and took your orders. He eyed her nervously as she wrote down your requests and left the table once more.

“You gonna elaborate?”

“Look right before I met you, I was living in the city,” He sighed, starting his story. “And I was on a harmless jog in Central Park, and these tourist girls got spooked and this bitch detective brought me in, started getting her whole squad zoned in on me for some reason, including your man Barba,”

“Just for no reason?” You gave him a look.

“Yes!” He pounded the table, causing some stares. He took a deep breath, and repeated himself. “Yes, babe,”

“Uh huh,” You nodded as the waitress brought your drinks. It was only lunch but you had ordered a martini, you needed it to get through this.

“Look I thought you said you believed me,” Billy’s eyes narrowed. “...Or was that a bunch of bullshit?”

“N-No,” You suddenly sat straight up, remembering you needed to keep up your act.

“I’m just trying to understand the whole situation, baby boy,” You threw your old nickname at him to diffuse the situation.

“Right…” He licked his lips with a smile as the waitress came and sat the food down in front of each of you.

“Anyway, babe they set up this whole thing. They went on a vendetta against me, I swear to God. They-- they started pulling all these records of me from places I lived, trying to pin me to something, anything. And then their Captain…” He stopped and chuckled, but not his normal chuckle. This was more...sinister, darker.

“She just had this...thing, for me,” He smiled as he remembered her, the “Good times” they had. “She begged me to spend this bender weekend with me and when things didn’t go her way, she tried to say I ‘kidnapped’ her, raped her, did all this nasty stuff to her,”

“....Why would she make that up?” You took a bite of your food. He was just spilling all of this information without you even prying, this seemed too easy.

“Because she’s a BITCH, that’s why!” He suddenly yelled again and pounded the table, more people turned to stare this time before he quickly got himself together once more.

“Billy, I’ve never seen you like this,” Your voice shook as you spoke.

“I’m--I’m sorry, Y/N,” He blinked back tears. “They just...they put me through hell,” He began to show you scars on his face and pointed to his ear. “She...when we went on our little bender, she got so hopped on pills and booze that she beat me within an inch of my life,”

Your hand went over your mouth as you saw his injuries for the first time. You put your other hand and traced the scar, tears in your eyes. He couldn’t have just faked those scars, there was no way for him to know you’d start questioning him like you had.

Maybe...maybe he was telling the truth. You had just taken Rafael at his word, and those articles at theirs. Stories could always be spun, and if it made the NYPD look good, that would make the best story, right?

“Billy…” You wiped his cheek with your thumb, tears were spilling down them. “I am so, so sorry…”

“It’s fine,” He sniffed, wiping snot from his nose as he pulled himself together. “I just...I just want to move on,”

“Yeah…” You nodded, patting his cheek gently with a small smile.

“So, will you let me come home?” He asked you with a sad smile.

“I…” You looked down at the table, mulling everything over. You really, really didn’t want to believe Rafael had been the liar here, just covering up for his best friend.

But...Billy seemed genuine, you had known him so much longer than any of them, maybe you knew him better than they did. You knew he was the wrong guy they should have tried to send away, maybe he was just the victim of their dirty captain. But the whole…”job” aspect, you weren’t sure of. You still didn’t know what he did, and why he had been gone all the time. Rafael’s explanation seemed logical.

“...I’ll think about it,” You looked at him with a small smile.

“You’ll think about it?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Billy, you really hurt me,” You felt tears come to your throat. “You have to know that,”

“I know, babe…” He gave you a sad smile back, taking your hands again. “I get it, I have to earn your trust again,”

“Yes,” You nodded, glad he wasn’t going to press it. He nodded and looked at the table for a moment, then looked up at you with that smile of his.

“...You know, if you want the afternoon off honey, I can pick up the girls,” He offered.

“E-Exucse me?”

“You want to go see Barba, don’t you?” He was now smirking. “You want to verify what I’m saying, right?”

“I...um…”

“Go for it darling, that’s how confident I am you’ll make the right decision,” He encouraged you.

“...Right,” You nodded, downing the rest of your martini. “And if I don’t, you’ll have the girls as leverage,”

“Aww now Y/N…” He kept his smirk, it seemed more evil now when you looked at it. “I won’t need leverage, will I?”

“....No,” You gulped. You didn’t entirely trust him now, but you weren’t about to turn down a chance to see Rafael. Besides, if what he said was true, Billy would never harm the girls.

“Good then, so we’ll see you at home?”

“Sounds good,” You nodded as Billy laid down his card on the check. You got up and headed to the door, dialing Rafael’s number. You remembered that he had said not to contact him first, so you thought you’d do him one better.

-------------

Rafael was in his office putting together his opening argument when you knocked on his office door.

“Come in,” He said nonchalantly, thinking it would be his assistant with a memo.

He glanced up from his desk as the door opened and dropped his pen when he saw you. He blinked a few times, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he stood up from his chair and approached you slowly.

“....Y/N? What are you--?”

“Shut up,” You cut him off with your words before catching his lips in yours in a hungry, aggressive kiss.

You didn’t care what Billy had said, or what events led up to right now. You just knew at that moment you needed Rafael. And you took him, no regrets. You two spent several seconds just kissing and drinking each other up, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies.

You’d think you two had been separated for months, not barely 24 hours. But you both had been sure it would be ages, maybe ever before you saw each other again, and like you had said before you’d never been out of each other’s lives for more than a day since the day you met. Fine, maybe you were a little overdramatic.

“What are you doing here, tonta?!” He suddenly broke apart from you and chastised you. “I told you, it’s too--”

“Billy sent me,” You simply said, breathless from the kissing.

“...’Billy’, sent you?” His eyes narrowed. “And why exactly did Billy send you?”

“...We need to talk,” You bit your lip nervously. “But...but I just...I just want us to be us, for a little bit longer,”

“...A little bit longer?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

“Just...please, Rafa?” You begged him, your doe eyes wet with tears. You knew what you were about to have to do, and you just wanted to be happy for a few more minutes.

“...Bueno,” Rafael sighed, before he grabbed you by your waist and carried you over to his couch, before resuming making out with you like two teenagers.

He didn’t like the sound of where this was going, but he knew he wanted to put it off as long as possible. And he had missed you like crazy, even if it had just been 12 hours. He loved you so much, and so fast, it scared him.

You didn't know what you were going to say to Rafael once his tongue was out of your mouth, but right now you didn't care. You just wanted this to go on forever---

And then there was a knock at the door.

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #so i married a monster #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #rafael barba fanfcition #raul esparza #william lewis #william lewis fanfiction #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader

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